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L’ETO Caffe has one of those windows that you don’t just walk past. You double take, retrace your steps, and gawp in the window for a moment. Then, if you’re anything like me (i.e. total lack of self restraint) you head straight in to order a cake to go.

So when news came by that they don’t just serve perfectly formed cakes, but also a full dinner menu, I thought that I owed L’ETO Caffe the courtesy of at least taking them for a date before I leered at their baked goods.

I started, as every good meal should, with a cocktail.

My passionfruit copacabana was creamy, just a little bit sweet, and lasted me the whole menu. It was like a lighter Baileys, with just a touch of fruitiness. This might not be the greatest description in the world, so you’ll have to take my word for it, or go down and try it out yourself

For starters, we were both feeling fishy.

That’s Jonathan digging into his crab and avocado salad before I got a chance to photograph it in it’s pristine glory, and on the bottom is my tuna tartare- which, puzzingly, was spelt TAR-TAR on their menu. Have I lost my mind, or is this weird?

Spellings aside, it was lush. Generous portions of meltingly good tuna and a really sharp sauce to contrast the avocado. Jonathan’s salad was nice- though the soy and lime dressing didn’t blow my mind- I like my dressings potent, not gentle. I’ll stick to my tune tar tar/tatare.

Mains were a game affair.

Jonathan was boring and had a steak. With so many cool other things on the menu, amazing pastas and all sorts of slow cooking going on, I was hoping he’d go for something more adventurous I could pinch a few forkfulls of, but steak it was. He enjoyed it, in any case.

I had veal’s cheek, slow braised (how else?), on lemon potato creme, with a five spice jus. The veal was lush, falling apart at the meerest glimpse of my fork. The potato- essentially posh mash- was amazing. I would never have expected to love lemon potato mash- it sounds like a Blumenthal pudding- but I did. Top marks, L’ETO.

The main event in L’ETO is the desserts. I’ll let the cakes do the rest of the talking.

After some serious discussion, Jonathan and I made the most important decision of the day. I went for L’ETO’s famous honey cake, and Jonathan had the chocolate cake.

Aww shit.

They were, obviously, perfect. The honey cake was light, crisp, fluffy and insanely moreish. The chocolate cake was decadent, the way all chocolate cakes try to be, and the little squidge of sharp raspberry jam in the centre was like finding a little treasure chest of fruitiness. We fought over who got to eat the last spoonfuls of each, and nursed our full stomachs off into the night…

L’ETO Caffe, Brompton Road and across London.

I’m pretty late to the Japanese food scene in London. When you’re going out with Jonathan Frost, who thinks that no amount of sushi will ever fill him up- which is the main aim of the game when taking Frostie out for dinner- you don’t get to go to a lot of Japanese restaurants.

So when my colleagues planned a Friday lunch trip, I was a teency bit unreasonably excited. I’d seen so many Instagram-perfect shots of the dishes there and worked myself up into a Shackfuyu-hysteria. I was psyched to go eat this food. My job is to get other people excited about restaurants, and I think I’d gone over the mark into worrying people with my enthusiasm. Luckily, it was all genuine, and I can now confirm with authority, totally justified.

Priorities straight, we got the cocktails in first.

A photo posted by Hazel Henbury (@henburyhazel) on Feb 27, 2015 at 5:44am PST

Mine’s the Bone Daddies Punch (on the right), which was lush- and I couldn’t keep myself from picking out the tiny cherries at the end.

Shackfuyu has a weird menu in that you order one ‘main dish’, which changes on the reg. When we came it was wagyu beef (which means they like, fondle the cow before cooking it, or something, so it’s proper relaxed and yummy), so we ordered that with a plate of basically everything else. Sharing plates are so in right now.

Every Friday should involve @shackfuyu #london #restaurants #instafood #instadaily #bonedaddies #foodporn

A photo posted by Sauce Communications (@saucecomms) on Feb 27, 2015 at 6:06am PST

The food was gorgeous. My personal favourite was the Korean fried wings, which they serve in all the Bone Daddies’ restaurants. The prawn toast was pretty cool too, as it had this dancing herb stuff on top (Watch this Vine if you don’t know what I mean!) and the scallops were in a chilli miso butter that I could honestly have drunk by the gallon.

I’m not usually one for hot and cold desserts- I like my sweets at room temperature thank you very much- but Instagram was going wild for the kinako French toast and green tea ice cream and I couldn’t resist a spoonful or seven. The French toast was perfect- crème brulee crispness on the outsite and Mary-Berry-cake moist on the inside, and the ice cream wasn’t too sweet or too thick. I definitely am on board with the hype for this one.

Stuffed, happy, and feeling all the world more like Japanese food is my newfound bae, we tottered out into the sunlight and back to the office. Shackfuyu is tucked down Old Compton Street, past G-A-Y, so it does take a little digging out while you’re in Soho, but is absolutely worth hunting down- for that chilli miso butter alone, frankly. MASSIVE THUMBS UP FROM FARRAH.

Shackfuyu, Old Compton St.

In my opinion, the best way to spend a celebratory evening is by feeding and watering your nearest and dearest. Luckily for me, that’s also how Dirty Bones London wanted to spend it’s one year anniversary, so Jaime, Jonathan and I rocked up to wish them Happy Birthday.

Unlike every other birthday party I’ve been to, it wasn’t BYOB. In fact, Dirty Bones were rolling out the free cocktails like there was no tomorrow and if there was, it certainly wasn’t a school night.

We hung out in the underground bar area, supping our freebies and snapping up mini burger canapes, until our table was ready. We were led into the smaller of the two dining rooms, snuck in an extra free cocktail and ordered away. They had a set birthday tasting menu on for the evening, so the toughest decision we had to make all night was whether to go for the Dog, Burger, or Wings. Ever the optimist, I suggested that in my group of three we should order one of each and all try a bite of each others…

No chance with these hustlers.

To start, we had a giant lamb rib with spicy chicken wing- that’ll be the Bones, then- followed by our incredible main course. I had the wings, which were succulent and crispy and had just enough kick. All mains were served with a portion of fries and mac’n'cheese EACH. That’s six sides between three people, and though I’d like to say we were far too sensible to attempt scoffing the lot, I just can’t lie to you guys.

The mac’n'cheese was especially delicious, and I say that as someone who usually resents paying for pasta I’m used to tipping out of a microwave packet. I don’t know what they put in it to make it spicy- it didn’t seem like paprika- but there was enough zing in there to make me grateful we all got individual portions.

You can definitely see where they get the Dirty part from, not only was the food unapologetically ~~unhealthy~~ good for the soul, we were all covered in sticky sauce, mac and cheese, ketchup and grease by the end. The staff were in no rush to kick us out to refill the table (a novelty in itself in London restaurants), so we had plenty of time to groom ourselves into looking presentable again, soundtracked by the amazing chilled covers the live band next door was crooning.

The whole shebang (that’s three freebie cocktails, a starter, main with two sides and a dessert each) cost £20 per person. Which is probably the best deal for food I’ve had in like, ever, so as well as feeling enormously ~~fat~~ proud of ourselves for finishing everything, our pockets weren’t that much lighter afterwards either.

All round, I massively enjoyed Dirty Bones London and will definitely be back.

Dirty Bones, 20 Kensington Church St

#fdbloggers

L’ETO Caffe, South Kensington London Review

Shackfuyu London Review

Dirty Bones London Review