london Archives - Hello Farrah

108 Garage – Restaurant Review

Posted on February 12, 2017 by Farrah Kelly

The struggles you face in London are truly real. Sure, there’s the ones everyone knows about (rent rises, Southern Rail, the chaos of the first snowflake landing, the ‘liberal London elite’, etc etc). But those pale in comparison, surely, to the guttural need to be constantly ~ I N – T H E – K N O W~.

I’ve tweeted about FOMO to an audience of eye rollers before, and it did seem a contender for Word of the Year before alternative facts got in the post-truth way (A shame of many facets, to be sure). Whilst in the midst of my tweetstorm (three likes and a scathing reply, shout out to my fans), Giles Coren posted this:

URGENT: Go NOW to 108 Garage on Golborne Road. Chris Denney is a once-in-a-lifetime chef. Book NOW before the critics make it impossible.

— Giles Coren (@gilescoren) January 12, 2017

And let me tell you, friends, that when Giles Coren tells you to get to a restaurant, you immediately stop what you’re doing and book a table. Or at least I do, so I did.

Round rolls the fateful Saturday, and after battling through the carnage that is Portobello Road Market, we emerged into the promised culinary haven to settle in for a few hours. Perched at the bar (another great Giles tip), we had a vantage point straight into the tiny kitchen and across the red-brick hues of the restaurant. Copper and industrial steelwork lined the walls. The beautiful staff joke with us and each other. Chef Chris Denney asks if we had allergies and hands us appetizers. I make eye contact with Jonathan- who is typically a fair but harsh judge of my restaurant choices- and he is buzzing.

We order, as you should too, the five course menu. For food this good it is startling value at £35 a head. Between the two of us it meant we got the try every dish on the set menu, so go with someone you’re willing to share the good stuff with.

The chicken parfait was so smooth you wouldn’t be certain you had actually popped it into your mouth if it wasn’t for the blow-away flavour. Cured mackerel is light, happy. The beetroot is sharp, happy. We sit wide eyed, happy.

Our mains are John Dory and wagyu, respectively. The fish (pictured above, out of focus in excitement) is exquisite alongside an almost Portuguese-style sauce, the samphire and pumpkin seeds genius texture additions. It was a smart dish and a lovely dish. The wagyu comes donning a mustard seed relish, and melts just by looking at it. This dish was a particular flirt- Chris Denney was preparing other guest’s wagyu tantilisingly in front of us, meaning that even as we ate we were driven to distraction by the next batch of beef…

A palate cleanser, served over the bar by one of the chefs, of pink-lady apple sorbet.

I cannot reliably report on the date and IPA cake as I did not get a look in. I can however report that the cheese was fantastic. Black bomber is a little cheesy punch in the tastebuds. It came crumbled onto fresh (and also crumbly) cracker breads and generous pickle. Every morsel was appreciated and licked up.

Not willing to let go of our experience just yet, we ordered cocktails to prolong the joy. I had a rosemary and tequila concotion, Jonathan had the house signature (£10 each). As we sipped and stared out into the restaurant, Jonathan decided that we would come back. Which, forgive me Giles Coren, is probably the best compliment you can give a restaurant.

Borough Market Restaurants for Sharing Plates

Posted on March 20, 2016 by Farrah Kelly

Once upon a time, Borough Market was unknown. Unless you were looking for food wholesale, there were much cooler places to be. Traders would arrive long before dawn for the day’s work, and the local pubs would open from 4am to serve the first pints of day to those clocking off from a hard slog. As the name ‘Borough’ became a destination for the savvy foodie, traders turning over small fortunes would clamber to rooftops for end of the day drinks together, breaking bread and putting the world to rights.

Admittedly a romanticised version of events, this image of a community of once under-appreciated food lovers turned much-hyped tourist attraction, makes for one of my favourite places in London. The spirit of Borough Market- sharing successes over good wine and food- feeds my love of two restaurants there in particular- Arabica Bar and Kitchen and Boro Bistro. To me, these small-plate-style spots hark back to the days of clearing down stalls after the day’s trade to join your competition over a bite to eat.

Arabica Bar and Kitchen

Arabica is home to a worldly menu inspired by much loved delicacies (falafel, hoummus, pide) and ’”Levantine with London swagger’ new delights (Fosse Meadow chicken in Lebanese seven spice, Roasted pumpkin freeke).

Pour out a good Turkish red, choose from a list of mezze divided by cooking method (Clay Oven, Josper Grill, so on). Snack on ras el hanout popcorn while you wait.

Chatter with friends as you dip, scoop, nibble and tear your way through a mix of authentic, carefully spiced mezze.

Life-changing onion rings. Bit, beefy onions surrounded in tarator (basically cream cheese), deep fried. So bad, but so, SO unbelievably excellent.

Let the hours slip by as you pass around plates, clink glasses and revel in the convivial spirit and happy din of this small restaurant with a lot of soul under the railway arches.

Boro Bistro

Ever French, the menu is divided into lovers. Meat lovers, Veg lovers, Seafood lovers, Charcuterie lovers. I am all of those lovers, so I order everything.

Smearing terrine and potted meat onto toast (and a little over my face, an inevitability), slicing beef onglet to share, picking out red wine with the joyful waiters. It’s an authentic little bistro- designed with both candle lit dates and hungry group reunions in mind.

Each mouthful a delight, each plate carefully distributed between everyone for a fair share. Order more wine, endeavour to reach the dishes placed at the other end of the table, and catch up on holiday plans, work dramas and existential questions between bites.

Through to dessert, where the small plate philosophy sensibly ends (catch me sharing my creme brûlée), and makes way for a few more glasses of heady French wine before heading back out into the night, home.

At the Tabl: Gizzi Erskine & The Inksiders

Posted on February 28, 2016 by Farrah Kelly

Late to the trend party as ever, I’ve been pining after going to a supper club. I’m the sort of person who loves the social side of food- bonding over carving a roast or tasting a forkful of your friend’s dish is the most important part of any meal- and supper clubs are that bit more personal than your typical eat-out experience. Unfortunately, I’m also the sort of person who will have something on my ‘I must do that’ list for months, so despite it being on my radar for a good long while, I’d never got round to going to one.

Until, that is, I was invited by the very lovely Tazz along to a Tabl event. Tabl is all about making dining experiences more fun, more personal, and more social. Their website, tabl.com, is a litany of cool one-night-only pop ups, home kitchen supper clubs, and innovative food + something special mash ups. To say I jumped at the chance is to massively overstate the grace I had in accepting her invite.

So that’s how I found myself flying solo in the private dining room of Tramshed, Shoreditch, for a tattoo-inspired menu and discussion with The Inksiders and food-hero Gizzi Erskine.

Long tables lay in the centre of the dining room, with people milling around holding glasses of Brighton Gin. I knew nobody. Recognising Erin, IslandBell, from Twitter, I walked over and shyly interrupted her and her friend’s chat to introduce myself. Erin and Charlie were so sweet, and immediately accepted me as part of their evening as we got chatting about the towns we had in common and our shared love of Gizzi Erskine’s books.

Welcome drinks swigged, it was time to take our seats. Seeing a gap in the crowd surrounding Gizzi, Erin took us to meet her, we were greeted with hugs like old friends and asked to join her at the table so we could all keep chatting. As I was shaking off my fangirl, a hand tapped my shoulder. Lydia, a girl I haven’t seen for years, was right there in front of me. We freaked out, sat down together, and the meal began.

Simultaneously in reunion and making-friends mode, I chatted an laughed and swapped Twitters and took photos all night. Each dish was designed to be carved out for groups, a glowing convivial spirit of carving roast chicken and sharing out plates of salad, pouring drinks for people I hadn’t met yet. If this sounds gushing, then that’s as accurate as I could be. I loved it.

Between mains and dessert (pure salted caramel fondue with cakes for dipping- the most heart-eyes-emoji dish I’ve ever seen), there was a Q&A with Gizzi and Mo, a renowned tattoo artist. They chatted about the ink and food industries, fielding questions from the crowd as we swigged wine. Though I’m no tattoo afficianado, you could really get a feel for their passion and expertise.

Dessert rounded up and with plans to meet all four of the girls I got chatting to again, I tottered off back home feeling incredibly connected to London. Without really trying, I’d found myself alone in an awesome restaurant with food by a chef I love, met new friends and found old ones, discovered a new way of entertaining that I’m dying to do again and left full and happy. This was more social, more dinner-round-mine than any restaurant I’ve ever been to. I’m already scouring Tabl for the next opportunity to arrive alone at a dinner party and leave with new friends and a stomach full of great food.

PS- if anyone wants to hit up a supper club, shout and I will 100% come with you!

Pizza Union, King’s Cross

Posted on August 16, 2015 by Farrah Kelly

Since my fella moved in with me, I’ve had fewer excuses to hang out with his flatmates- three girls who truly appreciate a glass of rose and a lip sync battle.

And considering I owed Sally an overdue congratulations on her snazzy new job, I took her out for dinner at Pizza Union, King’s Cross to catch up and pig out.

Friends had raved to me about their other outposts, so I was looking forward to giving them a whirl myself. It has a distinct uber-cool school canteen vibe, topped with gorgeous mixed tiles that were oh-so-Instagrammable.

Good pizza should be quick, simple, and pack a punch of flavour. The menu at Pizza Union might look brief, but this is as it should be. Venetian Pizzarias don’t stack their menus high- Pizza Hut does. With fewer, more focused options, you can practically guarantee that thought and love has gone into your choice.

I had the Manzo- tomato and cheese base (how else?), beef, chilli and rocket.

Damn. The base was crispy, cooked to perfection in their mosaic pizza oven, with the toppings generously scooped on. Fresh, filling and moreish, the pizza took me near on an hour to eat while other Pizza Unionists were whipping in and out with their speedy pizzas in no time. I like to savour my meal, okay? Plus I was side snacking on a big cuppa olives and popped chilli nuts.

Pizza Union was the perfect setting for a catch up- relaxed enough to unwind after a day in the office, fun enough to not feel shy giving out great big belly laughs, and with enough early 2000 hits to have a little sing along between pizza bites. Despite the crowds we all seemed to be getting quick and happy service, an oddity in the London fast casual scene.

Dessert was dolce- Sally had coconut and I had salted caramel with peanut. When we both shirked the nutella option the waiter seemed agog- urging us to try his favourite- but despite his best intentions we stuck to our guns and can happily report the Caramello and Coco versions are worth a recommendations too. Sweet filling wrapped in a sweetened dough ring- quite a heavy but undeniably tasty end to the meal.

I’ll be coming back to Pizza Union- King’s Cross is my gateway to the North and I pass through pretty regularly. I can now sack off the Pret dinners to take on the train and get a decent, superfast (they mean it when they say superfast, our bums had barely hit out chairs before our buzzer went wild) pizzas from here. Bellisimo.

Pizza Union, Pentonville Road King’s Cross.