Starters - Smoked Salmon blinis, Spiced Pork and Duck Pierogi
Mains - Pan-fried Sea Bream with cucumber salad, Marinated Red Snapper with pomegranate and fennel salad
Side - Kasza with bacon
Dessert - White chocolate and vanilla cheesecake
Wine - Picpoul de Pinet 2011 Claude Jourdan Languedoc
Date visited - 1st May 2013
Rating - 4/5
There's a real sense of understated cool to Baltic. Situated right next to Southwark tube station, you enter the restaurant through thick wooden doors and a heavy curtain. Walking past the vodka bar, you come to a mezzanine area overlooking the dining room, which is like a barn conversion done by well-heeled hipsters (in actual fact a Polish prince, but I digress). There's subtle lighting, the odd chandelier, exposed concrete walls and beams (exposed brickwork is so last year) and urinals so small that you have to watch your aim after a bottle of wine.
The blinis were warm and slightly toasted on the outside but gave way to a soft centre. The smoked salmon was fresh and tasty and came with some sort of cream-cheesy-chivey sauce. The pierogi were also very good, al dente on the outside and warm and meaty on inside. I have to say the starters were demolished pretty quickly.
The Red Snapper was also right on song, beautifully cooked with a firm texture and fresh flavour, complemented well by the pomegranate and fennel. The bream was a little less inspiring, and the cucumber salad was fairly insipid. Still, on a technical level, it was well executed.
The Kasza turned out to be bulgar wheat, and was a good hit of carbs and smokiness. It went down very well with the Red Snapper, but upset the clean flavours of the Bream.
The wine, which I always order when I see it on the list, was as reliably pleasant as ever and didn't buckle when faced with the smoked fish. Its austerity when first opened caught me off guard a little bit, but that may have been my fault for tucking into a plate of pickled gherkins just beforehand.
The dessert took ages to arrive, around 25 minutes or so. I am reliably informed that this was a New York cheesecake, and as such the top layer was baked to a golden hue. Either way, it was delicious and well worth the wait, not needing any of the accompanying over-sweet red berry compote.
From my previous visits here, I can tell you that Baltic is also a great place to have a party.
Thursday, 2 May 2013
Review - Bar - Skylon, Southbank
Wine - Carafe of 2011 Albariño, Martin Codax, Rias Baixas, Spain
Date visited - 1st May 2013
Rating - 3/5
Having given up trying to find anywhere in the sun to have a drink, we settled on somewhere that looked like it might have a view over the river. The name 'Skylon' conjures up images of great heights, an electric atmosphere and James Bond. You enter through a relatively anonymous door at street level, walk up one floor, through a couple of corridors and then into the large, high ceilinged restaurant/grill/bar area. The restaurant was pretty full already, and we were only there for a drink but the attentive staff found us a small table by the window. The blinds were most of the way down the impressive floor-to-ceiling windows, which is probably a good thing as it was roasting in the sun. Still, you can imagine that when the sun isn't shining directly through the windows you get a good view of the river, albeit partly blocked by a monstrously ugly footbridge and not quite the birds' eye view the name implies.
The wine was delicious, Albariño being a particular favourite of mine, albeit modesty dictated that we order only a carafe. Best part of £30 as well, but I guess that is to be expected.
Date visited - 1st May 2013
Rating - 3/5
Having given up trying to find anywhere in the sun to have a drink, we settled on somewhere that looked like it might have a view over the river. The name 'Skylon' conjures up images of great heights, an electric atmosphere and James Bond. You enter through a relatively anonymous door at street level, walk up one floor, through a couple of corridors and then into the large, high ceilinged restaurant/grill/bar area. The restaurant was pretty full already, and we were only there for a drink but the attentive staff found us a small table by the window. The blinds were most of the way down the impressive floor-to-ceiling windows, which is probably a good thing as it was roasting in the sun. Still, you can imagine that when the sun isn't shining directly through the windows you get a good view of the river, albeit partly blocked by a monstrously ugly footbridge and not quite the birds' eye view the name implies.
The wine was delicious, Albariño being a particular favourite of mine, albeit modesty dictated that we order only a carafe. Best part of £30 as well, but I guess that is to be expected.
Review - Restaurant - Black and Blue, Borough Market
Starter - Breaded butterfly king prawns with sweet chilli sauce
Main - Ribeye steak with chips (rare)
Wine - Tempranillo
Date visited - 28th April 2013
Rating - 1/5
The premise of this restaurant (part of a chain of six) is simple: Classic steak and wines with the steaks cooked anyway you like, from black to blue. Despite having a name like an episode of EastEnders with a particular focus on domestic violence, you walk into a swish reception with a curved bar that looks like a premium airport lounge.
The first thing you notice is the smell. I like my steak restaurants to smell of meat and fire, Black and Blue smells mainly of imitation leather. The staff are efficient, if a little overworked and soulless, up to the point where you try to pay and leave when it's all downcast eyes and sudden changes of direction. Food descends from the firmament via a silent dumb-waiter, adding to the overall sense of detachment.
The king prawns were satisfactory. A little dry perhaps, and more squashed than butterflied. A worthy testament to the mundanity of the menu options.
I was hoping that a specialist steak place would do a good steak. The 28-day aged Aberdeen Ribeye tasted just plain old. As if somebody had bought a supermarket steak and left it, forgotten in the bottom of a drawer. It had none of the depth of flavour that you would imagine, almost as if it had been cooked in a laboratory. No trace of juice or blood oozed from its depths, and it was chewy to the point of mild nausea. No hint of char on the outside, no hint that it had been rested. The Toyota Corolla of the steak world, if you will, except it cost a small fortune.
The house wine, some sort of Tempranillo, was reassuringly bland.
On the plus side they serve tap water in jugs with slices of lemon and ice. And the menu states that all of the 12.5% service charge goes to their staff, though judging by their faces that is all they get.
Main - Ribeye steak with chips (rare)
Wine - Tempranillo
Date visited - 28th April 2013
Rating - 1/5
The premise of this restaurant (part of a chain of six) is simple: Classic steak and wines with the steaks cooked anyway you like, from black to blue. Despite having a name like an episode of EastEnders with a particular focus on domestic violence, you walk into a swish reception with a curved bar that looks like a premium airport lounge.
The first thing you notice is the smell. I like my steak restaurants to smell of meat and fire, Black and Blue smells mainly of imitation leather. The staff are efficient, if a little overworked and soulless, up to the point where you try to pay and leave when it's all downcast eyes and sudden changes of direction. Food descends from the firmament via a silent dumb-waiter, adding to the overall sense of detachment.
The king prawns were satisfactory. A little dry perhaps, and more squashed than butterflied. A worthy testament to the mundanity of the menu options.
I was hoping that a specialist steak place would do a good steak. The 28-day aged Aberdeen Ribeye tasted just plain old. As if somebody had bought a supermarket steak and left it, forgotten in the bottom of a drawer. It had none of the depth of flavour that you would imagine, almost as if it had been cooked in a laboratory. No trace of juice or blood oozed from its depths, and it was chewy to the point of mild nausea. No hint of char on the outside, no hint that it had been rested. The Toyota Corolla of the steak world, if you will, except it cost a small fortune.
The house wine, some sort of Tempranillo, was reassuringly bland.
On the plus side they serve tap water in jugs with slices of lemon and ice. And the menu states that all of the 12.5% service charge goes to their staff, though judging by their faces that is all they get.
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