OLLEY'S

Where the sailor spend his hard-earned pay
Red beans and rice for a quarter

Hurrah ! Some decent Fish and Chips at last. Ok, so we had to endure the 1845 (actual arrival 1855) from Blackfriars – a station that doesn’t appear to have changed since my last visit thirty years ago – to Herne Hill, but only for ten minutes.

A quick pint of Weasel in The Florence which I liked because they were playing reggae but which HS hated and couldn’t wait to drag me out of and then on to Olley’s round the corner. They seem to be pretty keen on self-promotion including a bigger-than-necessary photo of the increasingly ubiquitous Tom “any reasonable offers considered” Parker-Bowles on the frontage but, you know, if the end product is any good, which it was, who cares.

Calamari were toothsome and encased in a light, greaseless batter. Scampi were better than is the norm. While waiting for our next course we admired the décor which looked like it belonged in an Alpine-themed restaurant rather than a Fish and Chip shop. One thing we noticed was that the menu listed various ‘experiences’ (set menus) named after various celebrities and also a couple of food critics. The odd thing was they didn’t have one named after a famous food critic who lives right on their doorstep and who actually eats there: Jay Rayner. So HS rang him to find out what the score was.

The mains when they arrived were excellent – the Haddock, nestling under a thin crispy batter had not been overcooked and, heavens be praised, was nice and firm and very fresh. Chips were ace. Mushy peas were the real deal. The only disappointments were the pickled onions – we got the small silverskin variety – and the tartare sauce tasted homemade but was a bit smooth. We like it chunky, a bit like ourselves really. It didn’t really spoil the rest of our meal, though.

As we couldn’t face pud we settled up and walked round the corner to Jay’s who had kindly invited us round for a nightcap. We promised to bring a bottle and HS bought one from the local corner store. He had asked for the best wine the shop had but it turned out even worse than the red Bapi once brought to a New Tayyab’s do. Jay seemed to like it though. Go figure. Luckily, Jay’s wife Pat brought out the Brandy and a fine selection of miniatures they’d collected at the previous evening’s Observer Food Awards so a good time was had by all.

Speaking of Jay, in case you didn’t know, he’s got a book The Man Who Ate The World coming out later this week. I’ve read a pre-publication copy (I promise I’ll buy a proper one) and it’s very enjoyable. Jay writes with an effortless prose and shows an investigative journalist’s nose for a good story.

Anyway. If you happen to be in the Herne Hill area (in reality, not something that’s likely to happen to DH again) or happen to be wandering down Railton Road one evening you could do a lot worse than give Olley’s a go. Never did find out about the lack of a “Jay Rayner Experience”, though.

THE MAN WHO ATE THE WORLD: AROUND THE WORLD HIGH END STYLE WITH JAY RAYNER

A shameless plug for a friend today.

A few days ago, a proof of THE MAN WHO ATE THE WORLD by Jay Rayner plopped through the letterbox.

I would have been nice about it anyway, I am that sort of guy and I have had enough free meals from him. Fortunately, I don’t have to fake it as it is a very enjoyable read indeed and, although I had planned to look at it on my flight over to Bangkok, I finished it in a couple of days back home and left it sitting for HP to thumb through at his considerable leisure.

Unlike my own budget driven effort, which will be published in May 2009, Jay’s trip around the globe involves visits to high-end restaurants in Moscow, New York, Paris, Tokyo, Las Vegas and London where he is fed by some of the world’s great chefs at restaurants where a meal could cost the equivalent of a monthly mortgage payment.

It makes me feel a lot better as I sit in a small, windowless room in my cheap guesthouse in Bangkok pondering on tomorrow’s budget of $25 for the day that, despite the cost and even with the help of PR companies around the world, Jay was still subjected to some truly dreadful meals and bizarre company. From a World Poker champion who wonders what the odds are on dying from eating Fugu to the irrepressible Steve Plotniki, founder of Opinionated About Food, who takes him on a tasting tour of NY’s top restaurants.

The book is as much about the characters he encounters as the food.

It is very funny in the right places and chapters on Moscow and Tokyo particularly stand out. However, it is when Jay interweaves the stories of growing up with his celebrity mother and sometime TV chef, Claire, that you begin to see where his obsession with food came from. His attempts to recreate a childhood meal, at a much faded Joe Allen’s, with his own kids particularly made me smile.

It’s a fun read and a useful insight into the mind of a man who has been doing this professionally for nearly ten years.

Well worth picking up a copy when it is published by Headline on April 3rd