DINE WITH DOS HERMANOS @ JOSE PIZARRO

I am sure that everyone in London is now aware that Jose Pizarro’s new gaff in Bermondsey will stake a strong claim to be the best Spanish restaurant in London.  Two weeks ago, however, it looked a little unlikely that he would even be open on time to host what proved to be the most popular DINE WITH DOS HERMANOS to date.

It was David Strauss, the GM of the terrific Goodman steakhouses who actually first suggested the idea.  I was musing on Twitter about where and when to have the next event and London’s favourite restaurant munchkin replied “If you combined a #DWDH event with the opening of Jose Pizarro’s new restaurants, you would break all records”. 

It was a fabulous idea and, as soon as I read it, I shot off a mail to Jose asking him if he would be game to host the latest in our ever popular dining evenings.  He was up for the task and, no sooner had I posted about it on the blog/Facebook and Twitter did the requests for places begin to flood in.  In all, we had nearly a thousand requests for the coveted fifty seats and after making sure there were spaces for a few family and friends, I did what I have been forced to do for the last few occasions and drew names from of a hat.

A couple of days before the event, I was back in London with my missus, after a fun trip to Croatia and Hungary.  After a quick visit to Maltby Street Market, I suggested to her that we visit Pizarro just to make sure that everything was set for the big day.  It wasn’t.  There was no sign outside the restaurant and the inside looked like the East End after a particularly nasty visit from Jerry during the blitz.  Pizarro was there amongst all the dust and mayhem and, when he saw us walk through the door, his eyes widened like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. “It will be ready on time, Amigo, I promise you” he wailed as I trod carefully around the working builders shaking my head in dismay.

In all the years I have known him, Jose has never let me down and after much reassuranceI took him at his word that all would be shipshape for the Monday evening.  Mind you, as I walked towards the place about 45 minutes before everyone else was due to turn up, the fact that there was still builder’s paper covering the windows, did give me cause for concern. Inside, however, it was a different story.  It was certainly not finished, but it looked lovely and all the chefs and serving staff were busy preparing for what would be their very first time cooking for and serving customers.

It was not long before the guests arrived and, as soon as they handed over their precious tickets, each was handed a glass of Cava Gramona Brut imperial and given the chance to mingle with the other lucky punters. It was fantastic stuff and set the tone for one of the best DINE WITH DOS HERMANOS events yet.  Once we were seated, the courses began to arrive in earnest and, just as he had done at a similar event some three years ago at Casa Brindisa, Jose had gone far beyond what he had promised in terms of both food and drink. 

We began, of course, with large plates of Jamon, served this time with a glass of an uber rare “Dos Palmas” Sherry, from Gonzalez Byass.  This was followed by a salad of Cod, a breathtakingly good dish of duck livers and croquetas.  Fort he record, I have always believed that Jose makes the best croquetas in town and this offering did nothing to make me change my opinión.

The next two courses divided people’s opinions.  Not because they were not both spot on, but because they were arguing which was the best.  My vote went to some meltingly soft Hake cheeks while others at my table held out that braised Iberico pork cheeks were the winner.  Let’s just put it this way, if I was on a dessert island, I would alternate which I dreamt about.  I would also hope that they would be served with a glass of the crisp Rosado de Silos that Jose had managed to obtain for us.

Desserts of cheese and rich chocolate cake were supported by two more sherries; Amomtillado and Pedro Ximinez both from Fernando de Castilla and the tables were soon filled with empty glasses.  Plates however, were whisked away with incredible efficiency by the staff in training, which included coincidentally, my American niece in law who now calls London home.

Even if this event had not been the first time the ovens of Pizarro had been fired up or the first time the staff had worked the tables, it still would have been a memorable event.  The fact that it was means that it holds a particularly special place in the hearts of Dos Hermanos.  I want to give my own personal thanks to Jose, his team of superb chefs and excellent front of house and, of course, all those who provided food and wine to make this a DWDH event to cherish.

By 11pm, some four hours after we arrived, just about everyone agreed on two things.  The first was that Pizarro’s was soon going to become a hot ticket in London for those seeking the genuine Spanish article.  The second was that we would have to come up with something special if the next DINE WITH DOS HERMANOS was to top this one.

All I can say is, watch this space.  We got something special brewing.


PS: For those wondering why some of the pictures on this post are of a much higher quality than normal, there is a very good reason.  They are the work of one Thomas Bowles who does such things for a living and  whose work can be found at www.thomasbowles.com

CUT: THE MUSTARD?

Cut to the chase: It's a Steakhouse. It's expensive. Rich people and Americans will love it. (Cheque to the usual place please).

Oh. Ok.

Much as I'd like to believe Wolfgang Puck has always wanted to open a restaurant in London and isn't it just wunnerful with your history and I'm actually thinking of buying a house and sending my kids to school here and the weather, just love your weather etc.etc. Much as I'd like to believe it I just can't. Let's face it: not only is the weather crap here but CUT is really just another branch of an ever-expanding franchise in yet another tony location

This one is located in a narrow space on the ground floor of some sort of boutique-like annex of the Dorchester Hotel. It’s all (presumably) hideously expensive with hard, reflective surfaces and heavy furniture. Surroundings designed to confound simple folk like myself but one in which people like hedge fund managers – there’s alot around these parts - will feel right at home.

There's a definite Siberia in this restaurant, situatedt right at the back, to which I was inevitably led and seated so that the other sad-sack single diner had a nice view of my back. I had a view of the wall. Avoid.

On a sort of mezzanine floor overlooking the dining room there’s a bar where I could only imagine the fun people were having but could certainly enjoy the sound system blasting out hits of the 70’s. David segueing into Al segueing into Marvin.

Although it’s ostensibly a steakhouse the menu has pleanty choice with even a few options for vegetarians - although if you are one of those so-blessed you may ponder upon on your choice of dining venue when you see mushrooms coming in at £19. They are Masala Wild Mushrooms though. In the end, though, it’s still a steakhouse and it seemed perverse and not a little bit dumb to order anything but a piece of beef.

Before that though there were some nibbles: nice, crumbly cheese straws, warm cheesy gougères and some toughish bread.

A starter of Crab and Lobster “Louis” was an assemblage of lumps of lobster, white crab meat, toms and microgreens – like a sort of refined seafood cocktail. I couldn’t detect any of the advertised horseradish and it was a little underseasoned for my taste but it was a light and pleasant enough dish and the shellfish tasted nice.

There’s a decent selection of steaks available and there was the now obligatory show ‘n’ tell of the primo cuts. Foolishly, as it turned out, I spurned my usual “Stupidly Big Steak on Bone” MO and went for 6oz of Australian Wagyu. Yours for an arm AND a leg – I suspect it hadn’t travelled cattle class from down under. Super-sizing it with £10 of Foie Gras was just showing off.

Whoever’s manning the grill here knows exactly what they’re doing as the smallish lump of beef – it was a shock to see what 6oz of steak actually looks like – was perfectly cooked and
looked bloody great (mate).

Unfortunately, it had about as much taste as your average Ocker. Whether I should requested it cooked less rare; whether the odd seasoning covering the outside of the meat was killing the flavour; whether I’ve developed a tin mouth, I’ll never know. What I do know is that it was one of the more disappointing steaks I’ve eaten in a restaurant. So much so I hardly noticed that the FG had been overcooked.

The sides were more enjoyable though. A large tower of Tempura Onion Rings were light and crisp although its height had been enhanced by judiciously filling the bottom of the cup with the onion ring equivalent of 'bits'.

Fries were light and crisp although they’d been cut from unpeeled spuds (quite common in the US) – just made for dipping in an anaemic-looking but fine tasting béarnaise.

An off-menu Ice Cream selection was a metaphorical shrug of a desert but I liked the accompanying gooey chocolate cookie as well as the ones which came with my coffee.

Wines were just as eye-gougingly expensive as the food which is to be expected – there are very few reasonably priced wines to be found in London restaurants. Service was ultra-smooth and never missed a beat. As a whole though the experience left me underwhelmed. To be fair I feel this way about the majority of new places and find myself returning instead to my old favourite haunts.

To be honest if all you’re after is a good steak and are not fussed about dining at bling factor 50 then one of the established London Steakhouses – Goodman is but a 15 minute stroll away - would be a better choice. If you do not partake of the cow and have plenty of dosh CUT may just suit the bill.

HEDONE: MY PLEASURE

To call Mikael Jonsson an ingredient obsessive is to do him a disservice - it’s a bit like saying that footballer Lionel Messi can play a bit.

I’d already crossed paths with him (Mikael not Lionel, stupid) several years ago on a group trip to Anthony’s in Leeds and once my friend Scott - you remember: more Michelin three-stars than I’ve had hot dinners - told me that he was looking to open a restaurant in Chiswick my interest was very, as they say, piqued.

Although I was told he was already a gifted amateur cook, an allergy had prevented him from working in commercial kitchens. The allergy has cleared up so he’s followed his dream and is now cooking in his first place, Hedone. And he seems to be having a hell of a time doing so. Happily, that enthusiasm is catching and the restaurant is already gaining an excellent, wholly warranted, reputation. Not bad for a first-timer, eh?

So how to describe the food? Well the cliché of the best ingredients, cooked simply wouldn’t be far off the mark although that doesn’t tell the whole story. There’s a whole load of technique going here but without the bombast and overwrought style that fine dining restaurants are often prone to.

There’s also little twists that constantly take one by surprise and lift dishes above the norm. Take for instance the small Sablés that I had as an amuse to start one of my meals. Made with Berkswell Cheese they were beautifully crumbly but were lifted by a sprinkling of powdered, oven-dried blackcurrants that tingled on the tongue like space rocks. Or how about a Gazpacho of amazing intensity dotted with specks of dill oil and served with a chilled dill flower cream? or small tiny potatoes that have been smoked over juniper berries.

A meal here often starts with an Umami flan (as in the Iberian custard type) which has typically been made with a duck stock or dashi and topped with various purees: English pea, seaweed or red pepper. Served tiede these are a such a great way to start a meal – luscious mouthfeel and the umami element gets the juices going (oo-err missus). I’m just surprised nowhere else in London does them.

If you're a big fan of over-reduced sauces sluicing around on the plate then the minimal intervention policy here might disappoint. Although there are sauces here they’re correct, to the point, occasionally inventive: a small thick rivulet was made from the guts of a squab pigeon; a sauce with the beef that was light yet intense and deep in flavour; a lustrous Lobster sauce served with Duck or one made from mustard lightly napped over the spuds served with some Turbot collar.

That cut of Turbot – ‘cut’ seems an apt word - looked like some beautiful sub-species of fish and was remarkable for its tasty dense white flesh and gelatinous exterior which made eating the bones akin to demolishing the carcass of a roast chicken (gentle reader, I sucked those bones clean).

Other fish is equally great and handled with care like a fillet of Mackerel – the freshest I’ve had outside of Cornwall – which was just flashed under the grill. Scallops, hand-dived from the South Coast came in a dashi broth and as Sashimi. Or my favourite, just served raw and wriggling, bound in nori.

Superb Beef from Darragh O’Shea was cooked in plenty of Beef fat and served rare. There was the aforementioned Pigeon and the Duck in Lobster sauce. Don’t be disappointed if you visit and some of these are not on the menu – only the best stuff at the time makes the cut and there’ll always be something else which is just as good. It’s that sort of place.

Puddings are equally adept: beautiful Almond Blac-Manger served with (proper) Apricots; Raspberries served with Cinnamon ice cream and a Horseradish cream; a light Peach Tart with lovely pastry and Tonka Bean Ice Cream.

Chocolate soufflé was more mousse-like in texture but was lifted by the quality of the chocolate used and the accompanying Vanilla Ice cream made with one of several varieties of vanilla the chef has found (well of course he has) was a revelation.

Coffee was still a work in progress but has improved with each visit.

There’s just such a clarity and purity to the cooking that even after nine courses with plenty of excellent homemade sourdough bread you can leave without feeling bloated.

All this would count for naught of course without the terrific supporting acts that are the friendly, professional staff. And just in case you thought that this might be some stuffy temple of gastronomy on a recent visit the chef/patron had to rush out to get baby seats for some younger punters who were visiting. Yes, news of Hedone and that Umami dish
has even reached the nurseries of West London.

I have to fess up and say I’m already a little bit in love with Hedone to the extent that I almost considered cancelling a recent trip as it would mean not visiting for a couple of weeks. By comparison most other places seem, well, a bit rubbish. Now if only I could find some magic portal that would whisk me from East London to West I would be happy and my life complete.