Tag: London News
All the latest from London, the capital of the UK, home to the UK’s largest gay community.
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THEATRE REVIEW | The Prime of Ms. David Hoyle
Have you ever loved a poxy, gaping wound that never heals?
Have you ever loved a poy, gaping wound that never heals? Welcome to the pure disease of radical thinking, the open-heart artistry of David Hoyle. A precision provocateur, he’s a beautiful leper puking on the bland smirk of consensus dissent. Never afraid to offend, he’ll stare, point-blank, at dead-eyed conformity, and test-drive blanket idiocy to total destruction.
So, tonight –in character as a no-limits, libertarian headmistress for tonight’s show, ‘The Prime of Ms David Hoyle’ – he’s in his element. And, as always – perhaps acknowledging some fractured, kindred mind-set – his intentionally smeared make-up is a cosmetic-Cubist’s spin on Liza Minelli. It’s pithy, visual ventriloquism, an instant, persona transplant of Liza’s unshakeable self-belief, an immediate, autocratic departure point for Ms. Hoyle.
And it’s wholly appropriate. Tonight, David’s manifesting – and inverting – that patronising sense of belonging British schools cram into pitifully vulnerable minds. Quite brilliantly, he’s subverting the crypto-fascist overtones of Muriel Spark’s Prime Of Miss Jean Brodie novel into a school-night for unedited, sexualised scandal. How? With extreme satire, the preferred poison for killer, social comedy since theatre began. Essentially, it’s the freedom to question any standards of etiquette, taste and so-called decency, and push them to blatant heights of self-evident absurdity.
Therefore – as headmistress in tonight’s mock, end of school-term assembly – David unflinchingly proclaims his inflammatory manifesto. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, and those clever enough to have transcended gender’ he begins, ‘We are now free from the ridiculous expectations of our genitals. It will be trans people, and trans consciousness that will liberate the whole of humanity’.Wow. Simultaneously utopian, hilarious and upstaging blinkered identity politics, it’s a typically stellar David Hoyle starting-gun, but not one winning full approval. One heckler –ex-forces, befuddled, confrontational – obviously feels his servile, binary-sexed values are being mocked, a surly, potential flash-point. But immediately, he’s beautifully love-bombed by David, and instantly evolves from feisty reactionary to besotted disciple.How could he not? David’s seductive power of surreal persuasion totally rewrites any opposed punter’s world-view with a stunningly queer lexicon. Fittingly, David queers our global pitch from its first, bedrock principle – education – and, as always, asks gloriously awkward questions.
‘Does education make us conform’ David ominously inquires, ‘by hacking off our beautiful eccentricities?’ Oh yes; British state and public schools give a kiss of Guantanomo Bay brutality for arty queens enduring term-time torment. But not tonight, as, quite gorgeously, our devil’s advocate headmistress unleashes three recent graduates of his maverick regime.
First, there’s Bambi Sexsmith, self-styled, queer conversion therapist, with her projectile-diction sermon on avoiding ‘Straight Complex’. In an assured blizzard of quips, she diagnoses, treats and cures any obstacles to thoroughly liberated, thoroughly queer existence. And, remarkably, that’s just for starters; each fabulously unpredictable prodigy from the Hoyle class of honour ramps the anti-hetero stakes stunningly higher.Take Ray, a flawless, drag-king Fred Astaire clone. Tap-dancing like a frenzied needle probing an addict’s veins, she strips to a startling androgyny, all duct-taped, flattened breasts and stencilled six-pack. A take-no-prisoners attack on the mediocre, mundane and pointlessly mean, David’s graduates conclude with the starkest, cautionary warning yet; enter, ‘Cis White Male’.
Naked, mute and nervous, his name scrawled on his belly, ‘Cis’ is a shocking indictment of state education crushing social and sexual dissent. Is there an antidote? For sure -Ms Hoyle’s fearless call to self-expression at any cost. It’s a fantastically liberating lesson that, ideally, should be taught and memorised from birth, the ferociously humane heart of David’s stunning rejection of global despair. Live free, live fierce, live now; there’s no finer riposte to mindless fascism.
David’s next show is December 9th at Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club.
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RESTAURANT REVIEW | Ametsa with Arzak Instruction, at The Halkin Hotel.
The restaurant is situated in Belgravia’s Halkin hotel. The Halkin is one of the hotels belonging to the prestigious COMO group (boasting utter gorgeousness globally).
The “Arzak Instruction” was established by a team of five from Arzak restaurant (who hold three Michelin stars) to deliver the philosophies of a unique and unforgettable cooking style to the Ametsa (currently holding one Michelin star).Rooted in the traditions of ‘New Basque Cuisine’, pairing earthy flavours and techniques of Spain’s Basque region with modern, surprising twists. Fresh, locally-sourced and organic produce from land and sea are Ametsa’s building blocks.
I really recommend you opt for the tasting menu to sample a little of everything that the creative and flavour geniuses have to offer. The tasting menu (£105 pp / £154pp with wine pairing) will have you and your table ooh-ing, ahh-ing with at every dish and with every mouthful inducing your eyes to roll in the back of your head. This is beyond food porn- harnessing invention, elements of nostalgia, exploration and of course, a bit of drama.
To start, a little amuse bouche in the form of a tomato and strawberry chilled soup, served in a shot glass- as tempting as it is to down in one from something in a shot glass, please don’t, far too pretty and tasty to be over so quickly.
The Onion Rock with Marinated Anchovie for me was one of the most visually enchanting dishes, and as an appetizer really does set the tone for the continuing flawless presentation and intricate skill applied to each dish. The “rock” element appearing bizarre in black and tasting like mellow yellow onions, with a coiled anchovie atop soft, silky- exquisite textures against one another.
The Sunflower Seed Cracker with Duck was something like the finest version of a pate on toast, even the crackers appeared to have some form of architecture to them.
A little fruity “pasta” parcel containing the Chistorra – a sweet chorizo-type sausage meat was light and mousse-like leaving you with a tangy tongue.
Scallops at Home- for me this was one of the highlights of the highlights. Served with a seaweed cracker with tiny edible flowers filling its crevices, again the attention to detail is transcendent, and the dish also flashed a nod to the realm of “superfoods” coming with a sweet creamy goji berry sauce. I don’t think a dish has ever made me smile the way that this one did.
The Langoustine on a Bed of Lichens- for me on paper does not conjour any feelings of excitement, especially as a lichen can also mean a skin ailment. However upon delivery of the dish, the langoustine with only its fleshiest of fleshy part (no ugly whole headed aliens on the plate), served with a perched cracker made with crab looking something like a Philip Treacy hat- sweet & stunning.
When you book for the tasting menu, your table is likely to receive different plates / menus from one another when you get the fish and meat section. This was great as we really did get to try a bit of everything, and sharing is definitely caring here.A little minx of a dish, the seductive and smoky Tuna with Cinnamon arrives in all its pinky handsomeness with a glass dome atop the plate encompassing a cinnamon myst. The dome is lifted and savoury woody aromas surround you. The table is also presented with a smoking cinnamon stick- sensory explosion.
For my friend dining, her highlight was the Red Emperor with Beans, with the fish (snapper) cooked ridiculously well and an earthy well seasoned white bean sauce. The plate was decorated with more edible flowers, this really was a regal winner.
The Suckling Pig on Carob Crumbs was a hunky platform of pork with some cracking crackling. An amazing bit of meat, but I did find the dish as a whole far too rich for my palette at this point of the meal. Also I have always had an aversion to anything carob. But as we had been served different meat dishes, it gave us the opportunity to share.
The Beef Fillet with Green Tomato, was another outstanding dish, the meat served as it should be medium-rare, with a light green tomato mousse encompassing the essence of everything fresh. Its flavour can only be described as clean and green. I’ve never tasted anything quite like it and would have quite happily been served the mousse on it’s own.
Before we were served dessert, a little delight came along in the form of a shot glass containing flavour elements of sangria (peel, berry etc), with popping candy. Topped up at the table with Sangria you then delve in with a spoon. I really liked this idea, it brought another fun element and also a little nod to childhood via popping candy. My friend didn’t get on with the Sangria shot and within minutes an alternative had been sent out in the form of homemade gelato which was very well received. All your needs are catered for here.
Clove Custard, Toasted Milk and Pineapple Ice Cream – utterly aromatic and warming flavours making the cooling, light ice cream an intriguing, clever, and undeniably moreish dish. The toasted milk shards (much like a thin wafer) were crisp and reminded me of the chocolate Caramac’s flavour, delicious against the piquant pineapple ice cream.
The service, much like its food is absolute. A flawless stream of perfectly timed new dishes to the table and topping up / changing of the wines to pair each plate. The service does feel orchestrated, and I have seen others refer to it as robotic. However, the tasting menu is a show and I can only applaud these masters of precision and perfection.
It’s worth mentioning Ametsa with Arzak Instruction also offer a set lunchtime menu for £27.50.
Reviewed by @LohanJordanADDRESS: 5-6 Halkin St, London SW1X 7DJPHONE: 020 7333 1234PRICE: £££££ (explained)
STAR RATING: ***** (explained)
TIPPING POLICY: http://www.comohotels.com/thehalkin/dining/ametsa-arzak-instruction/reservations
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Man “Exposes” Himself Before Shouting Homophobic Slurs At Passenger
The police are hunting a man who exposed his penis to another man before hurling homophobic abuse from an incident that happened in April.
British Transport Police officers have releaed an image of a man they wish to speak to following a sexual incident at London Bridge Underground station on the 10th April 2015.
According to the BTP the man approached the tail end of the platform when he saw another man at the far end of the platform shouting homophobic language and exposing himself.The man redressed himself and boarded a southbound train.
Investigating officer PC Leslie Dunnett said:
“I’d like to speak to the man in the CCTV image as I believe he may have vital information which could help with the investigation. People have the right to travel on the rail network without being made to feel uncomfortable or intimidated.”
Anyone with any information should contact British Transport Police on 0800 40 50 40 or text us on 61016 quoting crime reference number T-SUB/B2 of 17/11/15.”
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RESTAURANT REVIEWS: The Narrow, Limehouse
Cussy-Chops’s (Gordon Ramsay’s) hard graft has been decorated with numerous Michelin stars since 1993 – the Gordon Ramsay group currently own 25 restaurants globally.
For Cussy-Chops, running a nosh-house is much like Karl Lagerfeld designing a red-carpet dazzler – a natural. His top table, Restaurant Gordon Ramsay at Royal Hospital Road London, is one of only four eateries in the UK that currently hold three Michelin stars.
Last month THEGAYUK were invited to sample Ramsay’s culinary fare, minus reality-TV cameras, to see if there is ‘Hell’ in The Narrow Limehouse London’s ‘Kitchen’.
In 2007 The Narrow’s doors were first flung open, and it’s clear that was the last time the interior received any TLC. She’s neatly situated by the Thames – from the conservatory, your view to the left is the financial hub of London, and to the right, the Shard beams at you in all its phallic glory. Despite this sophisticated location, there’s a feeling that you could be visiting your great-grandma in her residential home – sun-bleached blue sofas and a complete lack of attempt to hide the B&Q-style window frames.
The gastro pub’s toilets matched the standard of a Wetherspoon’s during the World Cup. Cussy-Chops and his Kitchen Nightmare team should get back on the road and head to Limehouse and address his own flagging decor.
We were seated in the Nana’s glass-house and offered an apéritif – cocktails seemed appropriate.
Devil in Disguise: Leblon Cachaca, Green Chartreuse, Martini Bianco, white Cacao and lemon. A slight undercurrent similar to tequila with herby notes. In the description, the Devil boasts: Our creation to expose chocolate and lemon magnificent compatibility – hm. Got the lemon, maybe they overexposed the chocolate. Refreshing all the same.
Internacional: Bacardi Superior, apricot-infused Martini Rosso and Kümmel. If you could drink a Cuban version of Chanel Coco Mademoiselle, this is what it would taste like. An original, heavily-scented imbibe that jabs with potency and flavours of cumin.
Good service in a Ramsay gaff is like buff, topless bar staff at Ku Bar – totally expected. We weren’t disappointed. NoF Words passed our lips – the staff were knowledgeable and treated us as if we were regulars.
To oil the food devouring, our waiter chose a bottle of Gouguenheim Valle Escondido Malbec, Mendoza 2014, from Argentina. A deep red, rich and forceful number – aromas of currants chocolate and cherries with a lasting finish. Malbec-n-marvellous.
To start, from the specials’ board: goat’s cheese and spinach ravioli. Al dente and piping hot – the goat cheese’s strong flavour didn’t overpower but gave a notable presence. Delicious.
Our other starter: Potted salt beef with apple, pickle and sourdough. Think pastrami minus the pepper. A decent pub potted meat.
For a Tuesday night, Gordon’s gaff was simmering with locals who’d come straight from the office or schlepped from their Limehouse pied-à-terres, giving the riverside eatery a warm and relaxed atmosphere.
For our mains: Wye Valley duck breast with port sauce, confit garlic and sautéed potatoes. The duck was succulent and pink in the middle, verging on the sweet side, beautifully mirrored by the rich sauce.
commendation: the 10oz Aberdeenshire ribeye with peppercorn sauce. Ribeye can be riddled with fat, thus spoiling the consumption. This was a quality cut of beef, tender and without a fat infestation. The sauce was light, not too creamy – the corns liquified on the tongue.
We shared a couple of sides: creamy spinach and rosemary hand-cut chips. The spinach was fluffy and the chips were crisp, but seemed to have detached themselves from the rosemary.
Belt loops by pud time were feeling the pressure – but we soldiered on.
We shared a banana sticky toffee pudding with Purbeck salted caramel ice cream and, from the specials, a vanilla creme brûlée. Our waiter, who had a slight touch of the Robert Downey Jr’s about him, urged us toward said sticky pud – we were jolly pleased he did. The velvety sponge brimmed with banana and flattered the premium south-west ice cream.
The brûlée slipped off the spoon like gazpacho – it wasn’t set. A good crunch to the head and the vanilla pulled through.
Finally, a couple of espresso martinis to aid our navigational system for the journey home – more ice-lolly than flat-white – lush.
Dear Cussy-Chops, take some spondoodles out of your ever-expanding bank account and spruce up The Narrow- one facelift and you’ll have yourself a pretty respectable gastro pub – just sayin.
REVIEWED BY: Thabian Sutherland
ADDRESS: 44 Narrow Street, London, E14 8DP
TELEPHONE: +44 (0) 207 592 7950
EMAIL: thenarrow@gordonramsay.com
WEBSITE: https://www.gordonramsayrestaurants.com/the-narrow/
RATING: ★★★★ (explained)
PRICE: ££££ (explained)
Tipping Policy: A discretionary service charge of 12.5% will be added to your bill.
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G-A-Y Club To Hold One Minute Silence For Paris Victims Before Show Tonight
One of the UK’s biggest gay clubs, G-A-Y at Heaven will hold a one minute’s silence before its show tonight.
G-A-Y boss, Jeremy Joseph tweeted that a decision had been made to show “respect” to victims of a terror attack in Paris yesterday by holding a minute’s silence before tonight’s show starring Fleur East and Seann Miley Moore.
The French capital of Paris was the scene of chaos last night as 8 reported terrorist members of ISIS killed scores of people and injuring at least 100.In a chilling statement where the Islamic State claimed responsibility for the atrocity, the Bataclan concert hall, where nearly 90 people were killed, was chosen specifically because “hundreds of idolaters were together in a party of perversity”.Islamic State have stepped up their executions of gay men, or men accused of being gay in 2015 in the regions in which they are in control. In the past ISIS has branded gay people ‘the worst of all creatures’.In a flash poll 43% of our readers said that the terror attacks on Paris made them worried about going out socially, raising questions about whether LGBT venues are safe from terror attacks both in Europe and in the UK.THEGAYUK reached out for comment from Mr Joseph on whether extra security measures would be taken.Assistant Commissioner Mark Rowley, National Police Chiefs’ Council lead for counter terrorism, said:“We have been strengthening policing on the street. People may notice some changes at events at big cities across the country.
“We will constantly keep that under review in the forthcoming days and weeks but we can’t let the terrorists defeat us by becoming fearful and withdrawing from the streets.
“The term I would use is ‘to be alert, not alarmed’.
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THEATRE REVIEW | Lovesong Of An Electric Bear
Alan Turing’s life is told, with the help of his teddy bear, in the new play ‘Lovesong of the Electric Bear.’
Yes, you read it right. It’s a teddy bear called Porgy (Bryan Pilkington in a teddy bear suit) who guides Turing (and the audience) through the events in his life. From his life as a young boy in France, where he was a bit different from the other boys, to his time in Bletchley, where he created his machine which broke the German code during World War II. It’s a strange and unusual little show, currently playing in the small studio upstairs in the Arts Theatre on Great Newport Street, redesigned to look like a codebreakers bunker.
It’s a true story, written by the late Andrew Wilson. Turing evidently did have a teddy bear, and it’s the teddy bear in the opening sequence who awakens Turing from his deathbed and takes him through the journey of his life.
It’s an incredible journey, a journey we all know very well from last year’s hit film The Imitation Game, which starred Benedict Cumberbatch as Turing. Not much new information on Turing is provided in this production, but it’s the viewpoint of the teddy bear giving advice and opinion on every move Turing which makes is interesting to say the least. And it’s quite funny, and surreal, especially when Turing (played stoically and confidently by Ian Hallard) starts ‘dating’ Joan (an excellent Laura Harling), and he takes her to meet his parents, but it’s always the bear who is in the background giving advise and musing about Turing’s wrong decisions. And it’s also the bear who advises Turing to get far away from the rent boy (Chris Levens, very good in all the roles he plays in this show) that eventually brought upon Turing’s downfall. And of course we all know how it ends, and that’s the sad part, there was nothing the bear could have done for Turing, in the play and in real life. Turing’s was a life cut too short, he was a man too far ahead of his time.
Lovesong of the Electric Bear is playing at the Arts Theatre until November 21, 2015
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THEATRE REVIEW | Penny Arcade, Longing Last Longer
All hail Penny Arcade. Her latest, solo show – Longing Last Longer – knifes gentrification in the guts in a non-stop orgy of conceptual homicide.
Deliciously stoked and provoked by the severe, outrageously queer Gospel of Quentin Crisp, she’s a multiple-orgasm messiah high on life, love and luxuriant language. Ah, but Quentin’s brilliant, misanthropic spite – an anguished, solitary voice of sanity in a worldwide disturbed ward – is only one voice in Penny’s polyphonic choir of existential fire. Frankly, she’s our Dante, Allan Ginsberg and Martin Luther King sex-changed to a post-indulgence, Mad Max Furiosa, a warrior poetess par excellence. All punk-rock poison to mass stupidity, and spitting incandescent, revelatory bile, she massacres cultural mediocrity on the spot.
It’s a gorgeous execution. Pointless identity politics and thought-police Nazis – the PC shock-jocks – are ruthlessly dispatched with stunning erudition and torn limb from linguistic limb. So they should be. Why lobotomise ourselves with divisive labels that set one social faction against another? Don’t fascist police states do that already? And that’s where Penny’s sublime, sheer art-attack joyously weighs in. Forget theatre; Longing Lasts Longer is language as visionary music, words and concepts blown as intoxicating, be-bop virtuoso jazz solos.
Utterly fearless, following no star but her own, outré contrariness and distrust of any authority – even her own! – Penny furiously asks the unsayable. Indiscriminately puking on taboos Labour, Tory and anarchist, she explodes orthodoxies cemented by dogma as utterly facile. And her most contentious target? Arguably, the mythic chimera of sexual freedom. Whatever labels our preening egos prefer – gay, bi, trans or straight – the physical reality is that females nurture and males take. ‘The biological imperative sees no difference between a c*** and an arsehole’, Penny declares with bravura crudity. How right she is. Guys will stick their dicks in anything; hello, glory holes? And even razor blades in prostitute pussies didn’t deter vets in Vietnam.
But don’t get her wrong. No prude, Penny’s partied for 45 years, the show’s soundtrack brilliantly accenting her excesses with a sonic blizzard of Nirvana, The Doors, Prince and more. Free your mind and your ass will follow, indeed; this is culture cut loose from classrooms and set wildly free as hot, sweaty, erotic dance. ‘I haven’t watched TV for 40 years’ Penny says, and why would she? She’s too busy living, the only known antidote to bovine, terminally-addicted consumerism and online ennui.
Impassioned, on a hugely physical and flame-haired roll, she decries the certifiably insane world of compulsory self-censorship and hair-trigger text warnings we’re sleepwalking into. ‘Mediocrity is the new black’ (as in fashion essential) Penny cries, and she’s so hilariously on the money it hurts. Apparently, even skimming textual trauma triggers the reality, so how vulnerable students approach American bestseller the Bible – crammed with sex and horror – beggars belief.
Frighteningly, Penny explains, our very powers of expression – a Niagara Falls of nuances – are being systematically impoverished by corporate consensus. Terrified to even expect sustained attention spans, we Twitter ourselves en masse to gnomic vapidity. George Orwell’s novel 1984 termed the process ‘Doublespeak’; with complex language deliberately erased, even imagining abstract concepts is impossible. Which perfectly suits repressive regimes and aggressive capitalism; the more inarticulate, easily swayed and passive drones we become, the better
‘You can’t call yourself fierce and demand a safe space outside of a mental hospital’ Penny inarguably states, succinctly nailing the paradox of fake, lip-service rebellion. So what will you do when, not if, the state dictates your life, liberty and pursuit of happiness? Penny’s answer is taking brilliantly-argued responsibility for her entire life, completely owning each trauma and rapture, with not a single, squandered second. Will you do as much? Don’t delay; ‘The roses in the shops have lost their scent’, Penny bewails, a shockingly astute, contemporary human metaphor. The message is plain, and passionately perfect; either live your own life now, on your own terms, or have it lived for you. Choose life. Choose passion. Choose Penny Arcade. She’s perfect salvation in a soundbite.
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ART REVIEW: Invisible Treasure At Ovalhouse
If you fancy being imprisoned in a room floored with orange faux grass, ceilinged with a projector screen, housing a cow-sized white rabbit with robot eyes for 70mins – read on.
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RESTAURANT REVIEW | Wringer & Mangle
The Gay UK team are a clean and fastidious bunch, so it seemed perfectly apt we were invited to the opening of a former industrial laundry in the Big Smoke’s hipster hang-out, London Fields.
We didn’t take our dirty smalls, or our scented-passion-flower-and-ylang-ylang Comfort, or indeed pack our Fairy non-bio washing powder. Twists were for martinis, the only things sodden were the guests’ esophaguses from the plentiful cocktails, and only a few lightweight journos were mangled.
Award-winning mixologist and restaurateur Gerry Calabrese has eighteen years experience, and a few distinguished names hanging from his washing-line of achievements. Calabrese is the founder of the Hoxton Pony and his new venture Wringer & Mangle (W&M). Gerry launched Hoxton Gin, and has worked with The British Fashion Council, Mulberry, and Bentley – there are no stains on him.
To enter W&M you walk through a terrace, and past a Moroccan-style den, where lattice fencing, riddled with ivy, sections off an outdoor seating area surrounding a fire pit. Ideal for an aperitif – so we did. Cushions, candles and outdoor heaters will keep you snug as a duvet in a tumble dryer.
First bevvy of the night, The Bramble Collins: Finlandia Vodka with fresh blackberries, sugar syrup, fresh sage, topped with ginger root and honey soda. Earthy, sweet and bitter, with a twinge of woody-ness from the sage. We washed it down.Walking into the main building, you could be fooled into thinking you’d just entered a high-flying artisan New Yorker’s oversized loft apartment. Concrete ceiling, exposed brick, mismatched tables, a few animal skulls and abstract art cakes the walls. All lit by naked Victorian bulbs and copper lighting – there’s something for the fastwashers, you delicates out there, and for those who just wanna rinse, spin and pump-out – W&M will appeal to the bulk of East London dwellers.
While schmoozing with the trendy-Wendys, happening-hacks and look-at-me-Larrys, canapés were wafted around like incense at a pilgrims’ gathering. Beetroot, goat curd and fig tarts – bland. Mackerel tartar and pickled cucumber – an assertive fishy punch, toned down beautifully by the drunk cucumber – exquisite. Pig’s head terrine and mustard vinaigrette – not too coarse, quality meat, elevated by garlic notes and a grainy sense – yummy.
Our next tipple, The Pre-Wash Collins: Bombay Sapphire, gin-infused cucumber, topped with cucumber and cardamom foam. Its botanical garden aroma teases you first, followed by the texture of a gingery, bubbly lather – then something sweet and spicy happens – the Hotpoint of the night.
Once we’d caught a glimpse of Professor Green and could practically smell the Rizzle Kicks, the mains were being dished out by dishy staff.Braised lamb shoulder with pearl barley and rosemary – the grain was tender, salty and packed undertones of parsley and onion, complementing the fragrant meat – damn tasty.
Autumnal vegetable stew – root vegetables were brought to life in this bowl of warmth and goodness – a superb veg stew.
Smoked haddock chowder – we were just missing a couple of sporrans and some droning highland melodies – almost as good as Glasgow’s finest.
We’ll definitely be Whirlpool-ing our way back to try their ‘Traditional Roast Sirloin of Beef with all the trimmings’ one Sunday – they’ll be no Wringer-ing out ya purse at only £15 a pop. But they can scrub the phallic communal hand soap in the lavs – we’re not asking for an automatic-washer, just quality washroom hand soap worthy of an old washhouse. We left dry-clean, colour-safe and folded back home nicely – care symbol: regular visits a must.
Wringer & MangleREVIEWED BY: Thabian Sutherland
ADDRESS: The Laundry Building, 2-18 Warburton Road, London E8 3FN
RATING: ★★★★ (explained)
COST: £££ (explained)
http://www.wringerandmangle.com -
RESTAURANT REVIEW: Nam Long Le Shaker
Nam Long Le Shaker has earned a reputation in three decades for late night imbibing amongst the trust fund Ralph-Lauren-shirt brigade, the wannabe Sloane-ranger Fulhamites, and on occasions blue blood and various big-screen prancers wipe the impurities from Old Brompton Road on their doormat. ★★★★