Variety over bulk is the name of the game here. Eat lots of small things, attain satiety, and relax into a pool of flavours.

You order either three or five sandwiches (£5.95 or £8.95, respectively), from which you can choose from varieties as lovely and basic as egg and tomato, through liver paté with bacon and on to three different pickled herrings with rye bread.

The food is solid, simple, a little adventurous, and beautiful. It’s a deli counter which is unfortunately held up by the variety on offer– the sandwich selection changes regularly so you may have to queue while the people ahead of you aren’t yet waited on as they gaze and drool at the glass display case.

I had a spiced herring, a double portion of a smoked salmon wrap-like thing, liver and bacon, and smoked salmon on rye. I must highly recommend the liver paté and bacon. Coffees were solid– and came in beautiful and functional scandi-style cups with slightly sexualised protuberances for handles.

Staff were friendly and patient in the rush that’s come to them with increased popularity (we arrived at 1400 and the place was still heaving) The place was perhaps a bit on the noisy/clattery side, but it fits with the simplicity and the deli style.

020 7580 7161

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Guzel
I often go and do research at the British Library, and on one recent chilly-but-sunny January morning I chose to walk rather than Tube from Fenchurch Street up to Saint Pancras, and man, am I glad I did.

I’d skipped breakfast and figured I’d pick up a Pret or Marks & Spencer sandwich and get going, but I was ruminating as I walked and thought I could have a sit down breakfast– as I wouldn’t be able to take my sandwich into the reading rooms anyway.

Guzel puts out a £5.95 Full English. Now, you can’t really go completely wrong with a Full cooked breakfast, but you can go awfully right. Mushrooms were done & seasoned right, not overcooked. Beans had taste. Tomatoes not mushy. 2 eggs, runny yellows, no “snot” as Seventeen says of the uncooked white. The sausages were done under the grill, and had been sliced open in several spots– I’m not normally a fan of this as the fat runs out and leaves the flavour out, but these sausages were so flavourful, crisp, and wonderful that I really want to watch the next time and see a) where the sausages came from and b) how exactly he does them.

The staff were super as well. This is basic food, done well. I wouldn’t be surprised to see chefs in here.

Now I’m looking forward to going back for hangover breakfast of liver, egg, bacon, & chips…

293 Gray’s Inn Rd, WC1, London

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The service:
We were (this seems to be an ongoing theme with us– but it’s not our fault, this time! The theatre was half an hour late in starting. And we called!) late. We’d called ahead, but someone didn’t take the message– we’d been told on the phone that the kitchen would close at 10:30, and when we arrived at 10:20, they said it was closed, but “they’d see what they could make for us”.

In the end, it turned out all right– the head chef hadn’t left, the grill had just started to be cleaned, and they were willing to serve us everything they still had left, which included:

The Food:
Our first starter was beef carpaccio, one of my old tried and true favourites. The beef was a little thick, so you didn’t have that lovely flavour of a whispering moo– there was COW in your mouth. And not in a bad way, either. Although it was a bit on the cold side– which was too bad as it was rather fresh and the flavour was good.

The second starter shone through, though– three scallops of increasing size which were so fresh I thought they might cling to the plate. They were grilled to perfection: buttery smooth texture and full of flavour, and capped with American style streaky bacon, which was a nice touch, although it reminded me of the own-brand supermarket bacon I grew up with.

Mains included a 300g steak of beef tenderloin which, remarkably for a British restaurant, came rare as it was ordered– and it stood up well to it. It came with stunningly lovely mash on the side which was creamy, with some chunks, and delicious, if a bit on the scalding side– I suspect the mash had been put in the cooler and then brought back to temperature in the microwave but, then, we were nearly 25 minutes late.

My main was half a roast chicken. This is my test dish, and it was done right: The dark meat was cooked all the way through and the breast was moist and juicy. Delicious and– thankfully– unsalted frites on the side along with a slightly too moist (for me) cole slaw (although when in Rome, have your cabbage swimming in mayonnaise).

Pudding, on the other hand, while nice, was a bit of a disapointment. Blueberry pie was on offer with ice cream (they offered us our choice of chocolate, vanilla, or strawberry– really? Does anyone want anything other than vanilla ice cream with pie?). The ice cream was quite good, and the pie, which tasty, came in a bit on the lacking side– the filling had loads of flour in it and was almost like a thick blueberry cake. Not bad, just not what either of us were expecting, at all.

The Wine
Chateau Naudon Bordeaux Superieur 2005. Classic, old-world style Bordeaux, at £23. Nice, drinkable, went well with both chicken and beef. Pretty much what you look for with a mid-priced wine. The list overall looked pretty OK– a decent mixture of wine at decent prices– the most expensive thing on it was like £35, although the low end was filled with new world style buzzwords like “jammy” and “fruit-forward”, which put me off a bit (though it did get an extra £8 out of me for the wine).

We booked in here at Sevendials via TT, expecting quite a lot. Unfortunately, we ran 30 minutes late, so we rushed over, knowing the kitchen would soon close. We were greeted with “no, sorry, the kitchen’s closed”, but after a couple of questions and explanation, they went back, thinking they could do *something* for us after all.

Apparently the chef had just shut down the grill, and they decided to re-open it for us! Awesome.

Then out came a procession of:
Smoked duck breast: Lovely duck, smoked to perfection, not too cold, not too warm– and they’d run out of figs, so they replaced it with citrus which cut and complemented the duck all too well.
Aubergine, Red pepper, Goat’s cheese roulade: which sat under a pile of fresh lovely roquette which gave a peppery twist to the combination of lovely baked-together flavours underneath.
Braised Pig’s Cheeks: buttery, creamy, porky, and fantastic– an all-too-often overlooked lovely bit of the pig (not to mention cow!) Fully approved of by the Fellowship of the Pig.
Roast Partridge with partridge crumble: Which was an odd thought, as it’s partridge with a partridge side, but it worked– and worked well.
Monkfish with parmentier potatoes: I know, I know, I’m not meant to order Monkfish, but this place is known for its sustainable food, and I figure once a year… In any case, the Monkfish did not leave this plane of existence without good reason– it was brilliant. About 200g of monkfish in a round fillet, grilled to perfection, where it didn’t flake, didn’t go rough, but just poured flavour out into your mouth.

Wine: I thought the wine deserved its own space. El Muro Carineña Garnacha/Tempranillo, ‘08. I have no idea what 2008 looked like in Spanish wine, but this wine punched way above its weight. Eminently drinkable, like a middling reserve Tempranillo that’d been laid down for five years. Obviously it’d been done with some new world techniuqes, but at £14 a bottle (the cheapest on the list– I picked it ‘cos I figured you can’t go wrong with a Garnacha/Tempranillo blend), it drank like a £25 bottle of wine, and tasted reassuringly old world. It reminded me exactly why I love Spanish wine so much. I am desperate to drink more of this.

Looking forward to heading to Brighton again where you can get what would in London be a £100 meal for £40…

Down Green Ct, one of Soho’s attractive sex streets, there’s a beacon of shining… yellow and orange and red. In this place is Yalla Yalla, which means “fast fast”.

The food is simple Lebanese street food, and done fairly well. There’s a whole array of takeaway as well as a few tables.

The Good
The food is simple and, actually, top quality. The baba ghannoush was silky, buttery, flavourful, and loaded. The hummous, while I prefer it thick, was creamy and delicious. Kibbeh was spiced enough to bring out the lamb, not the spice. Prawns were cooked the right amount– and the shell came away cleanly. Fattoush was not overwhelming, crisp, fresh vegetables and not too acidic.

The bright, clean decor was a pleasure to eat and drink in. The tables were really cool looking, if perhaps the stools were a bit short, and the curious arrangement of logs as legs meant that you had a really awkward leg positioning to get in and out, and you couldn’t shuffle around on those too-short stools. My bum was aching, even the next day.

I would recommend the lebanese wine. The most expensive one, at £23, was eminently drinkable with hints of subtle flavours, though not overpowering the food in the least– pleasurable, fruit-forward flavours without being jammy, with a hint of old-world spice hovering underneath.

The Bad
The aforementioned tables and stools were rather uncomfortable– especially if you were lingering over a last few glasses of wine on a date. The service, while competent, was to be honest, just barely so, considering our meal, no pudding, with wine was about £60– although we did probably overdo it a bit.

The biggest problem, however, was the takeaway counter– it’s not really separate, in fact, it’s just the counter where the local punters used to buy their porn over, and it sits right by about 1/3 of the diner’s heads. Combine this with the fact that it’s creakingly overloaded with Lavash wrapped around succulent food, right at my head height, and it felt like I was being watched during my whole meal by Falafel-in-lavash and filo dough. The counter is, unfortunately, just too narrow for these trays filled with their takeaway, and I was afraid that I was going to rub the side of my head on them.

So?
I’d go back, though. The food was really rather special. I’d be more likely to stumble in after a few pints than to take a date, however– unless it was my new date from the few pints.

Ultimately, I think Yalla Yalla can’t decide if it’s upscale or downscale– Yes, YY, there is profit in downscale, but you could raise the prices by 50p and have a proper lovely hole in the wall special place for those “in the know”…

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