Garden Cafe, Inner Circle, Regent's Park

Long Sleek Lines Of The Well Loved Tactile.

Bits And Bobs To Tuck Into

This Could Be Aotearoa!

The Perfect Simple Menu, Simply Set Out.

The Reason We All Come And Keep It A Secret. The Food.

Game, Set and Match!  Move over Belgo.

#23  A Duck and a Flea

Full Circle

Thank you so much for following my blog. On the 18 June, I will be celebrating completing 1 year of blogging, with an unknown meal with my side kick at an unknown favourite haunt. 

I find it amazing without a single attempt to advertise this blog - other than word of mouth between family and friends, it has generated an audience spanning 15 countries, with 1319 hits.

This does make me think a bit more about the content and wondering who is reading my drivel. Above all else, this is fun, unpressured and importantly a not for profit occupation to record thoughts and memories. Documenting the places and companions who shared the pleasure of discovering a favourite place to eat a meal.

A lucky sibling will soon be going to noodle heaven in Malaysia. This kind of intrepid exploring across continents, in search of the perfect breakfast bowl of noodles inspires me to keep this blog going.

Yesterday the blogger found himself passing through New Zealand House in Haymarket to view the incredible Te Pouihi carved by the equally incredible Inia te Wiata. Not only was Inia a incredible Opera singer he was also an incredible wood carver.

Pop your audio sound on and have a cup of tea, watching this amazing video:

Inia's 7 year day job.

I then passed by the Chinese Embassy on Portland Place and having watched the dedicated sitter for over 12 years, decided to take a closer look and understand the reason for this silent protest. 

This led me to Falun Gong and to learn of the terrible social injustice in China forced upon a peaceful movement that had no other aim but to improve health, vitality and inner peace for all.

Pondering all of this, and the other economic woes in the world, such as the financial meltdown in Europe and the worrying lack of Bees and Butterflies in our natural landscape, I found myself passing the same piece of nature in London's inner sanctum, which had started me off on this blog trail, exactly 12 months ago.

The Garden Cafe in Regents Park's inner circle remains a favourite destination, though I fear the Olympic hoards might flood heavy footed over its quiet, dignified, elegant oasis.

The menu is so simple, perfect for summer with fresh ingredients and so impressively  priced at only £14.75 for 2 courses. And this is central London folks and nestled into a beautiful open park, it is a wonder there aren't queues winding all the way back to Stratford. Of course the beauty of its quiet remote destination is London's quick fill city brigade couldn't be bothered trekking there.

I ordered as a starter, Smoked Chicken Aioli & Gem Lettuce salad and it was a gem of a dish. For the main course a lovely bowl of Moules Marinieres with a side accompaniment of quite honestly the most delicious chips I think I have ever tasted. Their brown skins still snug on their backs for an earthy, healthier guise.

For refreshment I was given a very large jug of free tap water with a slice of lemon. Bingo.

I do love this place and sitting inside and away from the throngs seated outside (well 20 people), with a lovely view through large glass panes of 'toi toi' swaying in the distance, bosomed by large London Plane trees, it gave a distinct feeling of being in Aotearoa. A country well versed in the luxury of dining close to nature.

Perhaps on this occasion the team 'waiting on' were a tad slow on the attention to service, though I was so relaxed I didn't care and the chefs skilfully balanced this baton exchange by being faster than Usain Bolt.

So Full Circle it is, as I circumnavigate this edible journey and long may it continue.

VILLA BIANCA

'And we call it Bella Notte'

Summer Lovin' Had Me A Blast

I Met A Boy Crazy For Me

I Met A Girl Cute As Can Be

We Made Out Till Ten O'Clock

She Was Good....You Know What I Mean

Tell Me More, Tell Me More, 
How Much Dough Did He Spend ?

#22  Two little Ducks

Ciao Bella

If you and your beau should ever fancy recreating the intimate al fresco scene from Lady and the Tramp (Bella Notte) with-the-best-spaghetti-in-town, there are few destinations in London to match 'Villa Bianca' on a clear warm spring night. Nestled in leafy Hampstead on a quiet cobble stone alley, the traditional maitre d' welcomes you in with the traditional ambient Roman smile, donning his crisp white two button Corleone jacket. Those who have dined at 'Diana' in Bologna will know the idea....

In a blink of an eye your table is effortlessly covered in tasty bits and bobs with VB's courtesy amuse-bouche. A cerebral sense of cluttered contentment washes over, with live music playing indoors aiding the sense of an old timers twinkling romance.

Long fingered grissini sticks, marinated olives tucked into pastry puffs and freshly baked focaccia bread with sicilian olive oil, are prominent heavyweights featuring in the relaxed chit chat and gratuitous grazing thing. From the comfort of prize ringside al fresco seats, we ordered 'Antipasti', the house speciality  of tempura battered fresh squid, accompanied by the chef's tartar sauce. 

Navigating around the temptations of a 'Primi Piatti' (to avoid rolling one another home), we headed straight to the 'Secondi Piatti', sharing the delicious home made Tagliatelle with wild Porcini Mushrooms and cream and the Grilled Sardines with garlic, rosemary, olive oil and lemon. When ingredients are as fresh and simply garnished as this, there is nothing better to tickle your taste-buds.

Unbeknown to the blogger we were hobnobbing with the stars and entertained by a vocal running commentary from our neighbouring table, featuring an elderly Warren Mitchell aka Alf Garnett, directing his chauffeur driven car up the alley from 60 paces.  Who said the PC brigade have taken over ?

Villa Bianca

BLANDFORD'S

Cabbie's Delight

'Two eggs, and a slice of toast darling'.

Keeping it Simple

Bench Warmer

His and Hers

Wooden Bench Booths

A Lady Comes Around

A bow for Blandford's

# 21  Key Of The Door

Taxi Haven

This north Marylebone institution has witnessed a few scoops, chronicles and celebs in it's time. Plus a few high ranking taxi cabbies. A daily commute of continuous traffic plods and meanders its way to Blandford's doorstep, covering all cultures and generating a gentle stream of constantly busy, without punters feeling poked or rushed. You could hang out in here all day, do your laundry, mend a radio and bake a cake and nobody would bat an eyelid.

Blandford's is one of those places you discover by chance and keep close to your chest. London's underbelly bubbling away in all its glory. It's a conversation listener sort of a place, that any script writer worth her salt would sponge dry.

Unlike most places of a greasy spoon genre, Blandford's isn't seedy or preferential and has an elegance in its manoeuvres. The wooden furniture, tables and benches are worn into place and provide a golden hue and timeless attitude. The long french cafe curtain wraps up the ambience, allowing a sense of place and secret escape. It also keeps the cold out when your inner icicles are popping a cog.

For those partial to mechanically recovered meat, this is sausage fry up heaven. Seriously good comfort eating. It might not appear at your table foaming with liquid nitrogen or warrant attendance at the Soho Food Feast but get off the grass, who cares ?

Who can be bothered banging on about sourdough and spelt when you can have processed plain white pre-sliced supermarket bread for your toast. They could even fry up Tongue-in-cheek.

There is no such thing as a flawed meal, moreover a welcome retreat from highfalutin, 'menu degustation' grandiloquence. Gordon, Fergus, Heston, sling your puffed-up butchers hooks. 

Blandford's was doing its worst while other recent cool cafe cubs were still doing wedgies on the Brit Cuisine trail.

No. There's nothing bland about Blandford's.

CAFE GOURMAND

Homemade French Food

'I Love Starting Things'  Lucien Freud

Bécher de Thé à La Menthe

Community Table

Matchstick Bulbs

Mood Lighting

# 20 One Score

Bécher de Thé

It's Valentines day, you've fluttered and swooned in slow motion over the stunning retrospective of Lucien Freud at the National Portrait Gallery and your ready for an amble and intimate refresher.

Where do you go for the perfect beaker of tea ?

Shake a tail feather down to Cafe Gourmand on Lexington Street in Soho.

This French Cafe-Bistro hang out has all you need. If your peckish, there's Coq Au Vin. Omelettes. Roast Topside of Beef Sarnie. Pork Sausage and Haricot Vert Cassoulet. French Onion Soup. Roast Belly Of Pork. Croustillant Aux Champignon. Tartine Savoyarde. Quiche du Jour. Croque Monsieur. French Apple Tart and the Pastries ........

All the ingredients to echo CG's playlist of a homemade menu du jour, featuring a remix of 'The Perfect French Trough'.

Thé du Menthe is served in elegant and functional crystal clear German-Jena beakers by the amiable, chatty French proprietaire, the friendliest of hosts on this well frequented block.

Cafe Gourmand has a lovely personality and a real sense of soul. It feels a home-from-home, cosy and sophisticated and the kind of place you would regularly meet like-minded buddies to snack and meditate over a suitably aesthetic dialogue. Lucien would have approved.

Cafe Gourmand be my Valentine.

da POLPO

Osteria decor

Florentine Paper Menu

Twin Beakers and a Cosy Carafe

# 19  Goodbye Teens

Snug and Cosy

Having already enjoyed the intimate sibling shuffle between the two popular Soho twins : polpo and polpetto, when finding ourselves down in the camping district, we chanced upon their triplet: Osteria da Polpo. Keen to pitch our grazing tent for the night, we ventured in to see what all the fuss is about.....

The secret of the current de rigueur policy for 'no reservations' is to drop in pronto and watch the queues snake around the door while you happily tuck in.

This is the work of restauranteur of the year Russell Norman, a chap whose been busy opening a little emporium of food eateries, ( Spuntino and Mishkins are part of the family) each having a unique notion and idiosyncratic setting, cleverly avoiding the ignominy of being considered a chain concept. It is easy to see how this family of Eateries has been built upon erudite success and a penchant for canny street placement. Couple this with an assured balance of modernity and familiarity and recognisable touches of elan, such as the florentine-esque paper menus, doubling as place mats.

da polpo breezes through the challenge, maintaining a comfortably relaxed attitude and deals with the bustling frenetic demands of hungry urban punters in a chilled out confident manner. Twinkling candlelights for dinner created intimate shadows, but due to the bloggers preference of old fashioned mobile apparatus, the chiaroscuro has reduced this blog to the imagination.

This polpo team are big on meatballs and offer a variety of  winning flavour concoctions. Lamb and Mint balls followed quick fire on the heels of Fennel, Curly Endive, Almonds and a Mackerel Roulette special of the day. Then followed by a chaser of Chicory, Pear and Taleggio. Yum, yum. Score.

Foolishly we didn't elect to wash down the signature 'Nutella Pizzetta' with a 'Jerry Thomas Manhattan', but the offer was there....

da Polpo has a stylish pair of legs, admittedly a bit meaty compared to Legs and Co but certainly a gratifying retreat if your out buying rambling boots.