DOS HERMANOS: GO EVERYWHERE, EAT EVERYTHING

"It's not much but it's ours"

Monday, May 14, 2007

GEALES









Geales


Drive West on Sunset to the Sea (A slight return)



Many, many years ago I used to live in Holland Park. Of course, Elsham Road being West of Holland Road, is in fact on the wrong side of the tracks so I never had the good fortune to bump into Michael Winner. What I did have though were several very good places to eat. A Thai restaurant (in the days when the curry didn’t come out of a packet), a couple of places on Addison Gardens (whose names escape me) and the ace Cibo where I broke the £100 barrier for the first time on a meal for two.

My favourite night out, though, was an indie flick at The Gate cinema or a blockbuster at The Coronet (the only cinema where smoking was allowed, some say compulsory). After the film it was de rigeur to pop next door into Geales for Fish and Chips (or sometimes Costas up the road). You’d order a pint or glass of wine from the separate business running the booze operation, eat Haddock and Chips cooked in beef dripping at gingham-covered tables and finish off with some ice-cream. It was a little piece of Yorkshire in Notting Hill.

Fast forward to a midweek lunch at the newly refurbed Geales now with Gary Hollihead (exec chef at The Embassy) at the helm. The restaurant was a few weeks late opening, as so many are these days. It can’t have been down to the décor which screams bland. They also, seem to have reduced the number of tables – the whole feels like an ill-fitting suit. There was a strangely ghostly feel about the place as well, exacerbated by the lack of custom although I was told it had been very busy for the past five days they had been open.

In spite of the small number of covers to look after, the service seemed distracted and confused, although well-meaning. Worse culprits were the bar staff who needed several goes to get a drink order right. Anyway, the food’s the thing, so after choosing from the previous day’s menu, getting the correct menu and ascertaining that Whitebait was no longer on I went for the Prawn Cocktail followed by the F&C, Mushy Peas, Pickled Onions and Tartare Sauce.

Prawn Cocktail is one of those dishes that, unless you’re going to do a full Ferrán and deconstruct the hell out of it, is better left in its classic form. Geales version, unfortunately, was neither classic nor wackily realised, just bland like the décor. The ‘marie rose’ component was a solid layer of cold mayonnaise with not enough kick. The prawns underneath were fresh enough but the taste was further blanded out by avocado (why ?). There were a few desultory pieces of lettuce and a whole lot of chopped spring onion (again why ?). As a final annoyance, someone had thought it a good idea to put the food into a lob-sided container (why oh why ?) making it difficult to scoop anything out. Maybe an non-opening lid would have been a good idea.

Happily, the Fish and Chips were better: a small fillet of Haddock was fresh and properly cooked in some good batter. There were some okay chips as well although the dish they came in was so tiny it could appear in Ripley’s Believe It Or Not. Tartar sauce was non-descript and the sweet pickled onions were more like Italian marinated ones (Cippolina ?). Some new scientific technique was obviously involved in producing such a small portion of mushy peas (if that was what they were) and their flavour was obviously affected by the process: they were pretty nasty.

A selection of homemade ice cream to finish was one of the best things about the meal.

So after all this time was it worth the wait ? Not really. If you live in the area I suppose a visit would be harmless enough so long as you stick to F&C followed by the ice cream, avoid the mushy peas and get your drink order sorted out early. But in their attempt to gussy the place up they’ve stripped out all the soul (perhaps they did it just for the Halibut…sorry). The food and service just aren’t consistent enough to warrant a trip across town. Oh and I miss the tablecloths.

If you want fancy schmancy I would suggest Scott’s or JSheeky, if you want the proper stuff take a nice bottle of wine to the Golden Hind (probably not more than 15 minutes away by tube and foot). Trust me – I’m an Hermano.

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Sunday, June 18, 2006

GOLDEN HIND










DRIVE WEST ON SUNSET TO THE SEA

Well not quite. More a schlep along the grotty Westbound Circle Line to Baker Street. Our mission: to erase the memory of our extremely nasty meal at Leon the previous evening and renew our search for decent Fish and Chips in London. So we made our way down Marylebone Lane coughing and spluttering (he had a bad chest, I had hayfever).

Marylebone Lane is an interesting street of the sort you will find all over London but which is easily missed by the casual visitor. It runs from Oxford Street to Marylebone High Street and is home to two pubs, a club (The Sohisticats), the Button Queen (for all your button needs), hairdressers, delis, greasy spoons, restaurants from all over the globe and our destination The Golden Hind.

But first we had to drink beer. The pubs on the high street are very missable especially on a Saturday evening so we essayed a pint in the Golden Eagle. A very local local – shame that my pint of Pride and HS’s pint of St. Austell's Tribute didn’t really come up to snuff. Our second choice of The Pontefract Castle was a lot worse – all loud PA, LCD screens and indifferent beer. So we quickly made our way to the restaurant. While HS secured a table I popped round to the local offy, Nicholas (this is Marylebone) to get the wine we had selected earlier.

The Golden Hind has been here since 1914 and the current occupiers are only the fifth family owners in those hundred years. They’re doing the place proud. As soon as we’d unwrapped the wine the owner had dispatched one of the waiters to open our wine and pour it. The menu is short so we quickly ordered and sat back and admired the art deco Bakelite fish fryer from F Ford of Halifax (sadly, non-functioning) while sipping a chilled Sancerre Rose.

First up was a selection of breaded, deep-fried starters: scampi tails, tender calamari strips and substantial cod fishcakes. All were superior to the chippy norm – the calamari were especially un-rubbery – and all the better for being fresh from the frier.

Whilst waiting for our next course we did a quick scan of the other patrons who were mostly locals although there was a visit by a gaggle of American tourists who had made reservations but left quickly as most of the party had an allergy to fish (handy tip for the unwary: it's a Fish and Chip shop).

Next up were the main events. Haddock fillet and chips for me, Plaice and chips for HS. The batter on my haddock was crisp and greaseless and had in the correct manner encased the fillet allowing it to steam, leaving firm chunks of fish. Excellent. Judging by favourable sounds from across the table the Plaice passed muster as well. The chips, too, were nicely cooked - slightly browned as oppose to the more common flabby white variety. Even the mushy peas were not a bad try for a southern F&C outfit. Accompaniments were some unnecessary but really rather good pickled Greek vegetables and some tartare sauce which seemed to be made from mayonnaise with some chopped up capers and pickled cucumbers (which is exactly what tartare sauce is).

Given the non-greasy nature of the food we managed to scoff a couple of bowls of pretty good ice cream for pud. And we were done.

This is exactly what good fish and chips should be but rarely is: a casual meal, cooked properly with good ingredients and reasonably priced. The BYO policy makes it even more attractive. We shall be returning.

Postscript. I had assumed that The Sophiticats was a club from the swinging 60’s where you would find the likes of Pete and Britt and Tel and Jean hanging out, but a quick google turned up the following:

“Sophisticats is an adult venue that hosts nude cabaret shows as well as cat girl table top dancing, live shows, drinks and a host of entertainment all in one venue. There are feline waitresses who serve cat snacks and drinks until 3am. On Saturday nights, men table dance for women.”

Who knew the good burghers of Marylebone were cat lovers ?

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