Best of 2011

Ingredients of the year: corn tortillas and kalamansi limes

Tacos have made it into the bi-weekly dinner repertoire. Fillings vary: there has occasionally been spiced-up leftover brisket or shoulder of lamb, more often some beans. A cabbage salad is a new and popular addition to the table. Whatever the individual components, this is always fun to eat, its quality underpinned by proper tacos (ordinarily from here, though there are some being made in Brixton now too).

Amongst the many foolish things that the European Commission has done is to forbid the importation of these limes, far more intense and aromatic than anything I’ve come across. Bottled concentrates bring back at least some memory of drinking sweet-sour lime sodas across Malaysia, but I remain on the lookout for contraband.

Method: curing

When I lived in France, I would have no more made confit de canard from scratch than I would have baked my own croissants. But measured by an input-output ratio, this delivers an astonishing amount for very little effort: one pan, about 15 minutes of active time and a bonus jar of duck fat at the end.

Most exciting Brixton opening: Lab G

Our local maestro di gelato is a generous soul, a creative genius and a perfectionist, particularly when it comes to his exceptional pistachio and salted caramel flavours. This is the place we take people when we want them to appreciate just how astonishing the Brixton food scene is.

Best meal (London): Pied á Terre

I was lucky enough to eat at this Michelin 2-star twice in 2011. The food was beautiful to look at, and the kitchen is creative while still turning out plates that are hugely enjoyable to eat. The service was a surprise too: well-informed, generous and far from starchy. At lunchtime, it's not even shockingly expensive.

Best meal (everywhere else): Tek Sen

One of the few disappointing moments of our trip to Penang was finding this restaurant closed (some kind of temple festival) when we tried to make a return visit. This was revelatory food: astonishingly fresh yet amazingly complex in flavour. If there’s a single reason why we’re cooking and eating so much more Asian food now, it must lie in the effort to recapture what was on those plates.

Most-used cookbook: Madhur Jaffrey’s Curry Easy

We had this out from the library on and off for the last 6 months; our permanent copy should be arriving in time for the beginning of Hanukkah. It’s yielded crispy, spicy chickpeas which are perfect with a G&T, our first proper dhal and introduced us to curry leaves. But the biggest game changer has been making our own chapattis, far simpler and tastier than I would have imagined possible.

Most enjoyable food shop: A & C Co Continental Grocers

I’m spending more time in the local Asian grocery these days, and I still make a trip to Borough Market most weekends. But this is the place that I stop into nearly 6 days a week, whether for some olives or nuts to start off dinner, to top-up store cupboard basics or for the things that no one else sells locally, like quinces or fresh bay leaves. These are the people who’ve held onto my extra keys, make me laugh at the end of a rotten day and are eager to have taste me the new cheese that’s just come in. I don’t think most people have a shop like this; I’m very lucky that I do.

Best experiment: growing tomatoes

Flowers and shrubbery may still hold very limited interest, but I’m now beginning to understand why people like to garden. I’m not sure that in the midst of the root rot saga of August and September, or when I was hauling home 40 litres of potting soil on the bus, that I wholly appreciated how satisfying it could be to grow my own food. But it gave me occasion to talk to my neighbours, and was a far better use of time than more Internet surfing. And I learned that even basic cherry tomatoes taste great when picked as the table is being set for dinner.

Gelato

We have no Michelin stars, very few, if any, tablecloths, and a severe shortage of bathrooms, but the Brixton food scene just gets better and better. There’s a Japanese place on the way, and today we met the eager, nervous owners of another likely June arrival, this one a burger joint featuring Ginger Pig meat. There’s a new bakery too, getting fresh and very credible baguettes every morning from a French guy a few miles away. The unassuming, but excellent Thai place, where I’ve had zingy larb-like salads and spicy stir-fried chicken with a fried egg and Thai basil, was just written up by the Guardian’s lead restaurant reviewer, Jay Rayner.

But perhaps the most exciting development took place on Wednesday, when a very serious gelato maker started churning out a product that already deserves whatever superlatives might be used to describe it. The dozen or so flavours currently on offer are classic, conservative even—hazelnut, strawberry, zuppa inglese—but are made with a perfectionist’s eye for ingredients and balance. The fruit is fresh and seasonal, the pistachio from Bronte in Sicily. Even the cones don’t taste like an afterthought.

Giovanni, the owner, server and gelato-maker, looks delighted, if a bit surprised, by the local response. And apparently Jay Rayner has already been by.

I’m guessing that I live a bit closer than Jay, just a four minute stroll up the road. All the better, as I think Giovanni and I will be seeing a lot of one another.

Lab G (Laboratorio Artigianale del Buon Gelato)

Granville Arcade, Brixton

Late morning until 17:30 Su-W; late morning until 10 pm Th-Sa

Gelato a Londres (Gelato in London)

It’s rare that I have business ideas, much less good ones. But on several occasions over the last 5 years I had mused that what central London really needed was a high-quality ice cream shop, one which stayed open late enough to be an end-of-evening alternative to the ubiquitous, crowded, loud (and at that time smoky) pub.

The suggestion did not meet with widespread enthusiasm. Londoners, I was told, would not swap their last beer for ice cream. They considered Ben and Jerry’s a luxury product. Unlike Italians, it was argued, they wouldn’t eat ice cream unless it was genuinely hot. In essence, then, this was a business which would attract a very limited swathe of teetotalers and professional food types for at most 2 weeks a year.

It has been an unusually hot and dry summer. There is a hose-pipe ban in force, Hyde Park looks as parched as a Mediterranean hillside and anything which can be barbequed is selling out at the butcher’s. Perhaps that’s why Gelupo, a new artisanal gelataria, is garnering the type of praise and crowds usually associated with major restaurant openings.

Lineage is undoubtedly also playing a role. The shop was conceived by Jacob Kennedy, a young and ambitious chef with the (obvious and clever) idea of serving serious but affordable Italian food in the heart of Soho. Gelupo, his second business, has therefore gained immediate notice from the food cognoscenti. (It can’t rely much on passing trade. Located at the end of an insalubrious side street, the closest landmark is a club whose neon signs advertise table dancing.)

The shop’s manager is charming and eager to please. Queries generated a half-dozen tastings and a promise to include my chosen combination of blond almond and sour cherry granitas on the new suggestions board. About two dozen choices are available, distributed almost equally amongst gelatos, sorbettos and granitas. The latter two follow the seasons, with melons and berries currently featuring. While traditional gelato flavours like pistachio and stracciatella are on offer, the real excitement centres on uncommon but Italianesque pairings like fennel seed and pine nuts or a rum, chocolate and amaretti biscuit concoction named after a classic Piedmontese dessert.

I've been told that there is sometimes brioche to be gelato-filled, as they do in Sicily for breakfast. And to further the theme of sweet before savoury, the back of the shop is given over to a well-edited collection of Italian produce and pantry items, alongside packages of the handmade pasta and sauces served across the way at Kennedy’s restaurant.

After two visits, I’m prepared to say that Gelupo may be nearly equal to Grom, which is just as good as I’ve ever had. And if it stays this crowded and this good, well, I can just point out that I had the idea first.

Gelupo

7 Archer Street

London W1D 7AU

Su-W 11:00 – 23:00; Th-Sa 11:00 – 01:00

Tube: Picadilly Circus

Le Rostand (et autres addresses sur le 6th)

Situated in a privileged position across from the Jardin du Luxembourg, Le Rostand oozes money, though in a respectful, understated way. The café’s interior is grand yet slightly faded, its clientele genteel, but rarely ostentatious. On a visit this past winter, I saw women of a certain age wearing their fur coats indoors, Bonpoint-attired children sharing cake with their equally well-dressed parents, a few professorial types holding court and some students (the Sorbonne is not far away) buying 3 euro espressos, thus earning a table for the afternoon.

The cafe takes its name from Edmond de Rostand, author of Cyrano de Bergerac. While this was likely not an intentional homage (rather governed by the fact that the cafe sits on a square dedicated to the writer), the association is nonetheless a fortuitous one, as both the café and the neighbourhood like to trade on their intellectual heritage. All but the most successful writers and artists have long since decamped to the city’s cheaper northeastern arrondissements. Yet the lure—for visitors and, to some degree, the French themselves—of St Germain’s mythical past remains, even as the quartier is becoming better known for luxury clothing boutiques than for philosophical debates.

Le Rostand’s food is serviceable but expensive, the coffee better than average, the gentlemen’s loos (I’ve been told) still Turkish-style and the maître d’ one of the grumpiest I’ve encountered. The terrace is a sun-trap, though given over to smokers, and the people-watching is arguably better inside. If you were planning to go to de Flore, come here instead.

Le Rostand
6 place Edmond Rostand 75006
Daily, 8 am-2 am
Metro: RER Luxembourg or Odéon

Other local stand-outs:

Gerard Mulot

Their macarons, while credible, are not a match to those of Pierre Herme, located just a few minutes’ walk away. But a slice or two of their wobbly, delicate quiche—favourites include wild mushroom and smoked duck breast—and a bruleé-topped tarte orange will make an ideal alfresco lunch. Pack some wine, and bring your beautifully-wrapped packages to the nearby Jardin du Luxembourg. Just don’t sit on the grass.

76 rue de Seine
Closed Wednesdays
Metro: Mabillon

Mariage Frères

Hidden on a tiny street near the Seine, this branch of the famed tea shop and salon is nearly as charming as the Marais original and far less crowded. Spend a few minutes looking at the tea memorabilia in the basement.

13 rue des Grands-Augustins
Daily, 10:30am-7:30pm
Metro: Odéon or St Michel

Grom

I’ve written about this gelato shop before, but I should note that the special for this past month was an extraordinarily creamy granita made with wild strawberries. The rest of summer promises other limited-edition fruit sorbettos.

81 rue de Seine
Daily, late morning-midnight
Metro: Odéon or Mabillon