Bincho Yakatori

So another year passes and on our third wedding anniversary it was time for another another meal out in town. My wife is in the middle of reading The Wind Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami and so is a little obsessed by all things Japanese at the moment. That helped me choose which cuisine and the belt tightening that I think we're all feeling a need for at the moment meant we couldn't be too extravagant. A perfect compromise seemed to be this restaurant situated on the 2nd floor of The Oxo Tower. Nice venue with great views of the river (albeit through some scaffolding at the moment - but hey, it was dark, you couldn't really tell) and a menu which looked like it wouldn't break the bank.

Here's the blurb: In Japan the Ganko Ojisan are the keepers of the flame, acolytes who are devoted to the details of the fire. They have studied fire and learned its secrets, appreciate its subtleties and respect its temperament. They know the hottest fire is not the best fire. For them only the finest charcoal will do and that has to be bincho.

And what does that mean? Well the open plan kitchen shows you several of these 'acolytes' manning a long grill. It's like Japanese tapas with a selection of dishes available on bamboo skewers (minimum order of 2 skewers each time) as well as soups, salads and other appetisers too. There's a wide selection of sake, if you like that kind of thing, and lovely Asahi beer if you don't.

We started with a sashimi salad which had nice pieces of squid, seaweed and salmon but with a dressing so tart it made the leaves rather unpalatable. Our skewers included tuna, quails eggs, mushrooms wrapped in bacon (the combination of the last two like an English breakfast) and some plump king prawns. I believe in expanding your taste buds whenever possible and on the gamut of food programmes on TV at the moment I often see people rhapsodising about pork belly (which always looks like a load of fat to me). So we ordered some. Our waiter nodded approvingly, which seemed like a good sign, and I have to say that it was lovely. Soft, melt-in-the-mouth, tastiness.

After all that we had what they refer to as a traditional finisher; Ocha zuke—a mixture of rice and green tea served with Japanese pickles. A bit strange, ours was the version with seaweed and sesame, and it is literally a bowl of rice which they then pour green tea over. The pickles were a tiny amount of pickled seaweed and a dab of wasabi, so not much to get excited about, but it was quite refreshing. Japanese cuisine isn't famed for its puddings so we played safe with a layered banana cake (pretty, but a bit dry) and green tea ice cream and a baked chocolate dessert which was supposed to be served with mirin ice cream (a sweet rice wine) but actually came with ginger and honey ice cream.

The waiting staff were pleasant and helpful throughout, standing by with palm pilots ready to take the next order, or explain something to novices like us. We weren't blown away by the food but with prices starting from just £1 a skewer it's an inexpensive way to sample Japanese food in a lovely location. If you're on the South Bank and looking for something a little different, you could do far worse.

Bincho Yakatori's website

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Come Dine With Me

Reality TV - Boo. Another cooking programme - Boo. The death of culture - well no actually, it's really rather enjoyable, sorry. I don't know why it works but it does. Come Dine With Me is on Channel 4 and the basic premise is that five amateur chefs cook for each other over the course of the week, award each other marks for the evening and the winner gets £1000. The word amateur is what worried me, why would I want to watch ordinary people cooking a three course meal, especially when I consider myself a bit of a gourmand. Well, food is just one of the elements of the programme, what seems far more important is the actual hosting and that of course brings one of our national obsessions into play: class.

Oh yes, those clever programme makers have carefully selected their contestants of course and assembled a mixture of ingredients which they hope will combine into a heady stew of tasty TV (no more cooking metaphors I promise). This isn't like Holiday Showdown where two families generally try their hardest to argue and ruin a perfectly good holiday with each others prejudices, this a far more subtle and nuanced affair. First of all you have the dilemma of the host: what to cook, how to impress, what does a vegan eat (there always seems to be one contestant with special dietary needs). But the fun really starts when the guests arrive, usually as the host is still making final preparations, and start to snoop about the house. This is where we start to hear the clash of the social strata and it is often amazing to see people literally prepared to search for the skeletons in the closet. As the week develops the contestants begin to learn more and more about each other and it is fascinating to see them grapple with their first impressions and gradually get a better idea of their guests. Let's not pretend that this is a social experiment but rather than endure watching celebrity wannabees whore themselves for 5 months in the Big Brother house just spend 5 days eating dinner with some starngers and you'll learn all you need to about the people of Britain. The class thing always seems to reflect badly on those looking down. You only sound prissy when you complain that the bread was served in a chipped pyrex dish, and you just sound ignorant when you call mutton 'peasant food'.

Many contestants make the mistake of thinking that if they get everyone drunk enough then the high marks will flood in. This is a particularly bad ploy if you are cooking later in the week and tensions have already begun to build as we all know that a little too much vino in those circumstances and all hell can break loose. We have already seen one host reduced to tears as her guests had a truth telling session. We have also seen the odd stirring of lust but the first fully fledged Come Dine With Me romance has yet to bloom (unless I've missed it). The marking is interesting of course and we have already had our first scandal where one particularly repugnant contestant, Isabella, decided that she would mark everybody with either 1, 2 or 3 out of 10 so as to walk away with a grand. Boo. She was rumbled naturally and forced to mark again which thankfully lead to her coming second. Hooray.

You see, I find myself caring about who gets the £1000. After all the effort expended in the kitchen and the theatre of what happens at the table you want to see justice done. I should also mention that the programme has one of the finest purveyors of the sarcastic voice over in Dave Lamb. It's worth watching just for his withering comments alone. If your week's too busy then you can watch an omnibus on Sunday, what more could you ask for?

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Morgan M

So, yesterday was my second wedding anniversary. Each year my wife and I like to treat ourselves to something a bit special in the gastronomic arena. No shortage of choices in London of course, in fact the problem is usually whittling the list down to something comprehensible. This year we decided to go French and not too far from home. After a little Internet searching last year I had come across a place in Islington called Morgan M. The reviews I read tended to veer between those who had stumbled across it and had a lovely time and those that had gone in search of something special and come away very disappointed.

Well, we had a lovely evening. The restaurant was nice and quiet so we were well looked after, the staff were attentive without being oppressive. The menu is either 'A La Carte' or there is a six course Summer Menu option with which you can have a selection of wines to suit each course. As much as we would have loved to have done that my wife is 8 months pregnant so the wine was never going to be an option and with a choice of foie gras and raw tuna making up one of the courses we went for the A La Carte option.

Before we started we were brought an appetiser of chilled beetroot puree with a white foam which tasted of a blue cheese, an interesting combination which got the taste buds warmed up for what would follow. I started with a ravioli of snails (when in Rome and all that) which was great and it was gazpacho (pictured above) for my wife which she really enjoyed. She plumped for monk fish with asparagus and a lobster froth for her main and I went for rabbit with Israeli couscous which was good in a posh/rustic kind of way. Our puddings were actually preceded by a tiny vanilla rice-pudding with passion fruit sorbet (a pudding starter, now this I like), I had gone for a dark chocolate Moelleux with raspberry sorbet which was incredibly light and gorgeous and it was an apricot soufflé for the lady. All of the food was packed with flavour and nothing felt fussy for fussy sake. Yes, there was a lot of foam and froth but it was that kind of lightness which made the meal so enjoyable. Each course was introduced by the waiter in an accent so thick we sometimes wondered whether he'd brought the right thing but hey, we were along for the ride. Our evening was topped off when we got back to our illegally parked car to find no ticket. Perfect. Thanks to all at Morgan M for a lovely evening.

You can visit their website here

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