Wahaca 24/5/11 (or, The Disappointment of the Ceviche)

Last night, I did something terrifyingly un-English. When asked 'how is [the food]?' I responded with more than 'fine, lovely, thanks.' Upon hearing my disappointment that the 'tender chicken pieces' were more powdery than tender -as though reheated from yesterday, or the day before- and that the ceviche tostada lacked flavour -as though it had been sitting around for an hour or two, our waiter was unreservedly apologetic, as was the manager, who came along -quite uninvited- to offer either fresh dishes or to scrub them from the bill.

This is excellent service. I had no desire to demand new or free food. £3.95 is by no means a hefty price tag, particularly for something that has (one assumes) had quite a bit of preparation put into it. I was very impressed by the service. It is in stark contrast to the responses I've had from other places where I've spoken my mind -notably Momo, where they have consistently uncommunicative, unfriendly, and often incompetent service, and numerous managers who all have very little time for customer opinion. Wahaca and Momo are the opposite ends of the scale when it comes to popular modern 'ethnic' restaurants in central London in terms of service. (and value -Momo is insultingly overpriced, Wahaca could increase prices 25% and not feel expensive.)

Another thing that I'm fairly blown away by is the Wahaca social media. Without mentioning their account, they found my initial tweet-review. This is, in my mind above and beyond normal levels of customer interaction.

To briefly explain why they scored 6/10, which their response described as 'a harsh scoring system!', I should clarify that 6/10 is a good score. If you score 60% in your undergraduate degree, you'll probably recieve a 2.1 -an unusually high qualification. (one which I do not have...). 

The local Indian takeaway, Anis, would score maybe a 2. Their food is genuinely terrible. (garlic chili chicken was very nice, but the bread was made of sugar, the tikka massala was disgusting and the onion bhaji was greasy and flavourless). 

Maze would score a solid 8 for the tasting menu. (If they had dropped the beetroot and goat cheese course, it would be an 8.5 or 9)

On a scale of zero to ten (zero being inedible, ten being sublimely impossible), 5 should be the median score. Perhaps this is harsh, but this is how my out-of-ten system is configured.

This, therefore leads me on to the other part of my tweet-review: 'Revisited after a year, Wahaca was a terrible disappointment.'

When I visited about a year ago, following wave upon wave of endorsement from all over, I had relatively low expectations -my experience of Mexican food in the UK was pretty poor. Everything everyone had said about Wahaca was true: a genuinely exciting atmosphere, friendly and eager service bringing plate after plate of vibrant, moreish and surprising treats. I loved it. If you asked me for an out-of-ten score this time last year I would struggle to justify anything below a 7.5, or frankly, 8.

With this in memory, I was looking forward to this meal. 

The disappointment came from the Chicken Tinga  Tacos and the Ceviche Tostada. The former, as I mentioned earlier, really did have the feeling of something that was left over from the other night, and reheated from the fridge. Neither I, nor my dining partner care much for coriander leaf, which was really overpowering in this dish. 

The Ceviche, which on paper sounds fabulous -shrimp, scallop, habanero (my favourite chili), lime and mint- should be a hot-yet-cool, robust-yet-light mouth-teaser, but failed to deliver on all counts. There was no discernible seafood element, or -perhaps more alarmingly- no heat whatsoever. It was essentially some green bits and salsa on a (really very tasty) crispy base. This would have been fine, and did taste fine, but wasn't by any means what it was meant to be.

These two aside, the food was excellent. I thought the pancakey flavour of the Chorizo Quesadillas was wonderful, the combinations of crunchy and smooth textures in the Summery New Potato Taquitos was delightful, and the rich sweetness of the Pork Pibil Tacos was quite literally gorgeous.

The surprise triumph, for me, was the salad with the new potato taquitos. (I disapprove of adjectives in titles, btw). Contrary to my usual dislike of coriander leaf, this was used to perfect effect in this lettuce, feta and habanero salad. I must admit, I'm not a fan of salads per se, but I could have eaten bowlfuls of this. Each layer was strong, the mild saltiness of the feta underpinning the cool sour cream and fresh lettuce, with a pitch-perfect citric chili finish. What really set this off, however, was the coriander, which delicately fragranced and lifted the dish.

This, again brings me back to the disappointment of the Ceviche. As far as I could tell, the lettuce, chili and salsa on the taquitos was exactly the same as that in the ceviche. Indeed, throwing a couple of big prawns and a cup of seafoody broth and lime juice onto that salad would make a dream of a ceviche. But one plate tasted special, the other was mediocre.

The hit-and-miss food, when it hits, it hits hard, when it misses, it isn't too far off, really. Wahaca is a very good restaurant. An interesting space, with a varied and enticing menu, delivered with (on the most part) style and control, with some of the best service I have encountered. 

Perhaps I was a little too harsh to punish them for two disappointing dishes, but they really did bring down the evening for me. I shall definitely return, and I have no doubts that it will still be excellent. Let's settle between the 2010 and the 2011 scores and say Wahaca is worth a 7 out of 10.

Dining at Lunchtime -Catch/Sainsbury's Basics

This has been an interesting week of lunching. I say interesting, I probably mean horrifyingly-tedious-unless-you're-me-which-you're-not-so-I-definitely-mean-horrifyingly-tedious.

Well, shut up and listen to my story, yeah.

Yesterday I had the pleasure of eating at Catch, one of several eateries in the Andaz Hotel at Liverpool Street. This is a beautiful, if rather dimly lit room that feels a bit like you've wandered off Bishopsgate into some sort of Stephen King story; particularly when it's basically empty.
I'd been tempted in by the menu outside offering 3 courses for £25, featuring things like Cured Kingfish, and Sea Bass with Pork Belly. One of the things that really stood out on this set menu was a dessert of apple mousse with various deconstructions of apple.
The menu inside was not the one outside. This could have been rather disappointing, but the real set menu offered some rather special-sounding treats.
I began with an oh-so-trendy (/so two thousand and late) jam jar filled with a delightfully smooth trout parfait with lovely chunks of 'lightly smoked' trout. The smoke was so light that it was basically undetectable, but I don't believe the dish suffers because of this. This was topped with a lovely helping of big, squishy, bursting orange roe. This had been slightly mis-sold as 'caviar', but I'll let that slide -names are not really important, and the overall result is probably better for having the larger, richer trout/salmon (not sure which) roe.
My dining partner, J Lo had the soup. That is to say he had a small fish/crab cake with 'some sort of citrussy foam' and cornish crab consomme. I must confess more than i slight twinge of envy when they poured that glistening, velvety pool of sweet perfumed stock into J Lo's bowl. This really was one of the best smelling dishes I've ever experienced. This was, apparently -and I certainly believe this- very good. There was one tiny issue with this dish: a small piece of shell was left in it. If I was the chef, I would be very disappointed by that, but as a diner, I could not care less -unless I'd choked or bled to death.
I should also confess to having chosen a bottle of wine specifically to go with my trout starter, a satisfying and rather typical Australian Riesling. The honey notes matched the salt and perfume of the cured fish and roe beautifully, while the sharper grapefruit flavour cut through the richness and oiliness. It turned out to also be rather delightful with my main course.
Crispy Fried Haddock rings alarm bells in my head. My third confession must be that I don't really care for fish and chips. I don't really care for chips in general, but fish in crispy batter totally ruins the appeal of fish for me, crunchy batter -no matter how well-made- destroys the delicate softness of white fish, and, well, I just dislike it. Fortunately, at Catch, the phrase 'Crispy Fried Haddock' means coated in a thin layer of very well-seasoned breadcrumbs and fried in a pan. Accompanying this was a puree of cauliflower and confit garlic, although I could barely taste the garlic -which may, in fact have been present as the slight bitterness in the puree, which was totally resolved when eaten with the saltier components of the dish. Scattered rather unceremoniously across the top of this was a handful of brown shrimp. Roe and brown shrimp are two of my favourite things, so thus far lunch had been bi-winning. The portioning of this dish was also completely to my liking: two decent fillets of fish, with enough puree and vibrant romanesco broccoli to accompany it but let the fish take all the credit, with little squishy pieces of salty, umami shrimp stepping in to make each mouthful that little bit more exciting. I hope not to have oversold this dish, but I was very impressed. Others may find that it is a little too salty -i believe fish and seafood are best when seasoned on the saltier end of the scale- and the lack of any real carbohydrates make the dish not quite as filling as it could be -but carbs are flavour-inefficient, and you don't do fine dining to be full up.
J Lo had what seemed a much less successful main. A couple of very well cooked black bream fillets with a sweetcorn puree and some pretty little mushrooms, and some large greyish-brown lumps of something powdery. These confused both of us -having not remembered what it said on the menu- and we had to ask. We were first told 'potato'. This was a lie (mostly). The waiter came back and corrected himself. They were Wild Mushroom Gnocchi. These were not to my taste. They hadn't the strength of flavour to recognise them as wild mushroom, nor the delicateness to be considered good gnocchi. And they were too big. Smaller, more strongly flavoured, and less overcooked these would, I am certain, be wonderful.
I think I won the battle of the main course, but we definitely drew on dessert.
The deconstructed apple dessert on the outside menu which had enticed me in was also on the real menu, albeit with a slightly less poncey description. This was a very good pudding. It is always exciting to see how three ingredients can make seven equally delicious, but very different components. A light, sharp apple foam (which had an unexpectedly viscose texture -as though prepared with egg whites or maybe xanthan gum) sits atop a small column of pastel green mousse with a deep, contrasting caramel/butterscotchy sponge sliver on the bottom. This would have been a fine dessert, but it also came with diced and stewed apple pieces -warm, sweet and dark, a rich, slightly bitter caramel sauce, and a refreshing -if slightly overwhelming by its coldness- apple sorbet, and a slice of dessicated apple that I very much wanted ten more of -probably adding this to my favourites list. Dessert was, then, a successful exploration of apple preparation -showing what can be done with apple, egg and sugar. I was impressed by the detail and the presentation, but can't help feeling that it could have been that little bit better. The sorbet definitely wiped out some of the flavour of the mousse when eaten together, but the mix of hot and cold when eaten with the cooked apple was glorious.
All in all, a wonderful meal, in a very pretty space, with friendly, unintrusive, but always attentive staff. A real treat.

Lunch today, however, was not a treat. But I still really liked it. If I may borrow your eyes for a few more days, I'd like to sing the praises of Sainsbury's Basics 'Meat Lasagne'. For something that costs 74p, it is an absolute triumph. I've paid up to ten times that amount for lasagne of inferior flavour. I may be alone in thinking this, but this particular Basics ready meal is a real winner. Ok, so I added bits of crispy bacon and chunks of brie, and stirred in some bovril, but even without the tinkering, you get a lot of yum for your 74p. Certainly better than half a litre of petrol.

Warwick Business School Society Ball 2009

another review that's really rather old, but why not share it...

when i mentioned that i keep wanting to write reviews of things, i was told that it's a bad idea because i'll just be far too negative about everything. contrary to one of the phrases most frequently used by me ('i hate everything'), it is not my intention to be negative about things; life's too short for the bad bits. unfortunately, i am going to struggle to find the positives of this event...

it would be a little extreme to blame the organisers for the rain, but weather certainly taints perspective. regardless of the rain, the coaches were a teeny bit late, which i'm sure is not a massive deal. it may also be worth noting that they never looked at tickets, they just assumed you were the person whose name they wrote down... journey aside, the night was set to be a bond-themed extravaganza with champagne reception, meal, wine on the table, casino and giant martini glasses (whatever that means). we arrived in a dark, drizzly birmingham slightly desperate for champagne, drawing up to the door of what looked like a large chinese restaurant. oh dear, we thought. after a particularly disappointing queue for the cloackroom, we emerged into a large room that had a sort of oh-my-somebody-has-removed-all-the-furniture-from-whetherspoons vibe. oh dear, we thought. 

the champagne reception was an interesting interpretation of the traditional style, in which one gets a glass of champagne. our fifty five pound tickets afforded us a charming little glass of Tesco cava. oh dear, i thought. it is at this point that my natural hatred for the world may be stirring slightly, so let us take a moment to consider the warwick business school society ball 2006. this was a very classy event. there were fire-eaters at the door, we could help ourselves to champagne, the venue was huge, with different areas, chocolate fountains, professional photography, good food and wine: everything you expect from a ball. the secret to the success of this is money. they clearly had a lot of sponsorship, given the ernst&young logos scattered all over everything. in 2009 something unlikely happened: a business society failed to get corporate sponsorship. bizarre.

a lovely, and distressingly photogenic gentleman suggested gin. asking if i would like gin is a bit like asking the pope is jesus was good. (i really tried to come up with a less cliche line, but this was the only thing i could think of that wouldn't be horrifically offensive). so, gin in hand, we sat at our table. the tables were very nicely decorated: black cloth with a gold mesh stripe, oversize cocktail glass with floating candles, all very nice. we decided to look at the menu. oh dear, we thought. with all due optimism, we hungrily awaited the first course. to ease our pain, some girls in dresses did some sort of tedious (and slightly repetitive) dance to some james bond theme songs. then some guy, who i assume was in charge, got up on stage and presented the group responsible for the evening to us. if this had been at the end of the meal, i probably would have considered this part a shooting gallery.

starters: it was a bold move to suggest 'peppered steak wrap' as a starter, but they really went for it. what arrived was a large tortilla wrapped around some red onion and beef. visually, this was not a high-point. it tasted a lot like pepper. lots of pepper. and a bit of bread. oh dear, we thought. the vegetarian choice of cherry tomato tart was similarly sub-greggs in appearance, and i can only assume flavour too. never mind, this is the price you ought to pay for your choice to not eat real food.

mains: on paper, 'pan-fried chicken breast, wild mushrooms and leek' sounds really good. this is something i might order, or even cook (in a moment of imagination-deprivation). what arrived was a chicken breast the size of antarctica, sitting on some sort of lawn-trimmings, sprinkled with mushroomy splodges and a big dollop of dry, yellowy rice. (something peculiar has just happened: the word 'yellowy' has not been underlined by spellcheck. surely it's not a word? apparently spellcheck isn't...) the gentleman on my right noted that the food was 'like canteen food. in fact, i could get better in most canteens'. he's not wrong. indeed, i would go a step further and say that you can probably get better in a hospital (pun fully intended). i'm not a fan of rice, but there was something quite nice about this yellow offering: it was quite salty. i was also a fan of the mushrooms: they almost certainly were cepes. sadly, the monster chicken, stringy leek, good mushroom and mediocre rice combination was terrible.

on the subject of terrible, i haven't yet mentioned the wine (other than the cava). there was, miraculously, a drinkable (but oh so cheap tasting) merlot from veneto. frankly, it could have been any grape, from anywhere in the world. it was cheap. the other red, echo falls californian red, i did not taste, but i heard no good things. in the world of white wine, we had a choice of echo falls californian white, which was very fruity, just dry enough to drink, and over all on a par with the rest of the meal. the alternative was a hungarian 'pinot grigio'. again, this could have been any grape, but it did have the sort of almond-like flavour i associate with hungarian wine. sadly, this was not a good one. in fact, it was a very bad one. if it had tasted good, i think it probably would have been a good match for the main course. oh well.

any expectations we had that some sort of quality was coming were completely destroyed by the time we were offered a choice of desserts. i went for the treacle tart. this was potentially the nicest of the choices, but still was a crunchy, chewy, flavourless challenge. the pastry was made of plaster, and five miles thick, and the filling (which is basically just treacle) somehow tasted like no sugar had been near it at any stage. i'm told the cheesecake tasted like it ought to have been cooked, but hadn't been. oh dear, we thought. the absolute champion of disgusting was the chocolate cake. it takes a special type of total moron to screw up a chocolate cake. you have to put a lot of extra effort into making it taste that bad. i have known people to accidentally add fairy liquid to chocolate cake, but this was something else. half a mouthful was truly nauseating: as though some kind of poison was spewing out of it as you closed your mouth. the only way to make this worse was to drink the 'pinot grigio' with it. trust me.

after dinner, i was quite in the mood for getting crunk. the prospect of champagne (as promised by the bar) was very appealing. sadly, what i wasted my money on was a ridiculously fizzy, slightly sharp cremant de limoux. the fact that they advertised this as champagne (which i'm fairly certain is probably illegal) was more than slightly disappointing, and there were several people who 'just work here' unable to explain this... still, we headed to the 'casino' of a blackjack table and a roulette table. somehow, i won the blackjack table, but i didn't win the overall prize (a signed photo of judi dench!!!), owing to one person winning a whole universe more on the roulette. oh well.

in all, it was too expensive. i had a good time, and i think everyone else did too. that's all that really matters. however, given the choice, i don't think i would return to Mirage. (frankly, it takes a bit of persuasion to get me to birmingham, but that's not the point)