Donde Carlos, 143 Goldhawk Rd, London W12 8EN

10 September 2015

Donde Carlos (presumably named for the Colombian version of Where’s Wally?) certainly looks the part when we first arrive: a menu packed with exotic sounding dishes, Latin American music playing on the PA, sport on a big telly in the corner, basic furniture and a conservatory-style frontage (not unlike the earlier Bolivian example). Initial excitement is suppressed a little when we realise that availability is very much dependent on the day of the week. There’s a whole tapas menu that is only served on a Friday, and several other dishes that are only available on Saturday or Sunday. In addition, there’s no Colombian beer available, forcing Steve to drink Corona. And they’ve run out of soup. However, none of this really matters since there’s plenty else on offer, and Joe & Sophie go straight for the Rafejo, a sort of fruity shandy made from beer mixed with a fizzy pop not unlike Irn Bru.

We start with a couple of beef empanadas – and all are agreed that these are the best examples of their type that we have ever tasted. Delicious shredded beef filling in a wonderfully crispy fried pastry case, served with a fabulous herb & chilli salsa. Things are off to a world-beating start already.

The Best Empanada

The Best Empanada

For main, Joe and Steve both go for the Bandeja Paisa, a combination of all the Colombian foods in one massive meal. This was also available in a “mini” version, which would have definitely been more than enough food, and we knew it. But no, we had to go for the full-sized version, which neither of us were then able to finish. It was good though – a big mess of fried kidney beans, rice with a fried egg on top, pork belly strips, great sheets of fried beef fillet, Colombian chorizo and fried plantain.

Chuleta de cerdo (front), Bandeja paisa (back), Joe (further back)

Sophie, meanwhile had a more sensible Chuleta de Cerdo: pork escalopes fried in breadcrumbs, served with chips, rice and plantain. The chuletas seemed to have the salsa cooked into the breadcrumb coating, making them particularly delicious.

For pudding, we shared two dishes – black figs steeped in a syrup and served stuffed with dulce de leche, and a sort of dry curd cheese, also served with dulce de leche. The figs were amazing, not really in need of any help from the dulce, while the cheese was a bit weird, with a texture not unlike white bread and not really helped by its sweet companion.

Figs with dulce de leche

Figs with dulce de leche

Pretty good food overall, and it all felt thoroughly authentic throughout. When we phoned to book a table, they answered in Spanish, and there were small-ads in Spanish and advertisements for currency exchange pinned to the walls. This sort of place is really what the Foods of the World exercise is all about.


Atmosphere 4/5; Food 3.5/5



Hunan, 51 Pimlico Rd, London SW1W 8NE

29 August 2015

Pork and mushroom soup

Pork and mushroom soup

China. A rare treat for us mouthful of earth eaters. For once we had the prospect of an unprecedented amount of choice of where we could snap up our Chinese eating experience. So we took a slightly different approach with this restaurant choice – rather than simply, can we find a restaurant, any restaurant, to eat this food at, we went for where can we eat the BEST Chinese food in London.

There is of course, an unlimited range of possibilities. There’s a Chinese takeaway on every London high street, village and next to every underground or bus station. There are also the streets of London’s China town – a wealth of Chinese supermarkets, dim-sum dineries and tempting restaurants nestled between Leicester Square and Soho. These are streets we’d all dined at many a time and always have the same dilemma – which one to pick? Which is the best restaurant in China town, do you go for a safe choice you’ve tried before or try somewhere new with the possibility that it could be even better? After much research Joe settled on Hunan – off the beaten track, well-away from China town and a pricey choice but one we thought would be well worth it.

You arrive, having walked through a luxurious part of Belgravia to a rather unassuming white doorway which ushers onto a narrow passageway looking not unlike the hallway of someone’s house. This feeling stays with you as you take the first door on the left into what looks suspiciously like someone’s front room. That, however, is where the comparison ends. Once settled into your seat amongst the throng of other excited-looking customers you begin to appreciate the seamlessness of a high-end restaurant. Plush white table cloths and napkins, beautiful glassware and cutlery and the genteel hum of happy dining. We’re given a menu which tells us that there is no menu – you simply choose vegetarian or non-vegetarian and then are presented with 16-20 small dishes in small clusters, each more interesting and unusual than the next.

Because of the lack of menu I’ve given an account of the dishes we ate largely based on what ingredients were in them. These descriptions don’t give full justice to the complexity of the dishes but they give you a flavour for the make-up of the meal.

Prawns stuffed with spinach and battered green beans

Prawns stuffed with spinach and battered green beans

The first dish to be presented to us was an individual delicate silky dumping, filled with pork in a warm sloop of soy-flavoured broth. For several courses this remained my favourite morsel. Next came a pork and mushroom soup. More a stew than a soup, this beautifully presented wooden beaker contained a floating cylinder of mushroomy-porky goodness floating in a broth filled with spring onion and soy. I still haven’t worked out how this feat was achieved but I was mesmerised by it throughout consumption. A lettuce roll of minced chicken followed, reminding me of a similar dish I’d eaten in Hong Kong as a child, alongside crispy green beans in a tempura-like batter and the plumpest king prawns, stuffed with spinach.

Lemon chicken and chilli squid – two takeaway favourites were fresh, tangy and delicious, nothing like the gloopy takeaway fare. Prawn toast made an appearance, looking and tasting unrecognisable – delicate prawn pate shaped into cylinders and rolled in crispy breadcrumbs. Even more unusual was a plate of sliced ox tongue and thinly carpaccio-ed duck with a red bean sauce.

'Spinach rolls' - this description does not get even close to how delicious these were

‘Spinach rolls’ – this description does not get even close to how delicious these were

Sesame-encrusted and sat in a sweet red sauce, a dish rather unglamorously described by our waitress as ‘spinach rolls’ quickly overtook the pork dumpling for me as the stand-out dish of the meal, with crispy lamb fairly close behind.

When we all thought we couldn’t eat another delicately-prepared morsel our waitress asked us whether we would prefer duck or seabass. Having seen the eponimous crispy duck with pancakes being served on a neighbouring table we opted for the seabass. Less than 10 minutes later a whole baked seabass was whisked onto our table. The glistening flesh falling off the bone, we somehow made space to pick it clean, even managing to polish off a plate of apple and banana toffee fritters with ice cream afterwards. Well, you’ve got to have the full experience.

My favourites were the pork and mushroom soup and spinach rolls. Joe and Steve were big fans of the pork char sui buns, which are I can safely say, the best char sui buns I’ve ever eaten. Chicken in lettuce was also a big hit. Not everything was universally loved – I wasn’t a massive fan of the lamb and celery – but put together the menu was fantastic. Everything was unusual and authentic and felt genuinely different. And all three of us made it through 19 dishes despite having had our three course Chilean meal for lunch.

Miles away from the Chinese takeaway you can find on every London street.

Pork char sui bun

Pork char sui bun

Minced chicken wrapped in lettuce

Minced chicken wrapped in lettuce

Our menu

Shanghai soup and pork dumpling
Pork and mushroom soup
Chicken in lettuce
Crispy beans
Prawns stuffed with spinach
Lemon chicken
Ox Tongue
Spinach rolls
Duck with red bean sauce
Chilli squid
Chicken rolls with asparagus
Steamed scallops and cucumber
Beef and morning glory
Crispy lamb
Prawn toasts
Lamb and celery
Pork char sui buns
Apple and banana toffee fritters

Prawn toast

Prawn toast


Food: 4.5/5

Atmosphere: 4/5


Rica Rica, 15 Whitcomb Street, WC2H 7HA

29 July 2015


The Cornish pasty of the New World

Chile. Chile, Chile, Chile. Chile. Sounds like a fantastic place to visit on a gap year doesn’t it? And then, the food reminding us of happier days in warmer climes as it does, why not open a pop-up restaurant serving authentic street food, like a less ambitious Wahaca. That, presumably, was exactly what the owner/occupiers of Rica Rica, ‘London’s Only Chilean Restaurant’*, thought, and indeed, did.

We first headed over to Rica Rica in mid-July. “First headed there?” I hear you mutter, “so you went back? It’s that good?”. No. In fact Rica Rica is not open when you think it is. It sometimes is, and sometimes isn’t. It transpires that you should follow them on social media in case of ‘we didn’t make it out of bed today, lol!’ updates. If you’ve got other plans; if you’ve taken a guest to enjoy the food with you; if you’re eating your way through world cuisine in alphabetical order and you’ve already got a Chinese meal booked in for that very evening, then Rica Rica is a dangerous choice.

Rica Rica: 'open'

Rica Rica: ‘open’

We stared blankly at the opening hours on the door. We double checked our watches. We marvelled at the cognitive dissonance brought on by being both right (in that the restaurant should’ve been open), and wrong (in that it was locked and deserted). We cancelled our plans for the evening, and rearranged.

Our second visit to Rica Rica was in late July – our first and probably last ever ‘super Wednesday’ – when we dared to take on two foods of the world in a single day: Chilean lunch, Chinese dinner. To put that in perspective, there are only three meals available in a given day, and one of them is breakfast, which barely counts. Our waistlines and wallets were in for a pounding.

Like any good restaurant, Rica Rica was open as per advertised, and so in we went. The atmosphere was pleasant enough, with a few nods to Chile and the street-food vibe that is achieved with beaten furniture and orders taken by a semi-open kitchen. There was a relatively small lunchtime crowd, but service was a bit slow nonetheless, with a team of two doing all of the cooking and serving. The menu was refreshingly short, so we could try everything on offer, though it was a shame the only drinks available on the day were cans of Ting. I like Ting, and I’m sure you like Ting, but Chilean it ain’t.

We started with a couple of empanadas, the pastry parcels ubiquitous across South America. It has been interesting to compare the different national takes on a snack that can be mouth-wateringly good (see our Colombia post). These Chilean versions were quite pastry-heavy, but the filling of the first was a nice combination of beef, onions, and cumin; the second, vegetarian iteration, had lentils, sweet potato and spinach. The latter filling was more interesting, as it tasted less like a Cornish pasty of the New World. They both contained merkén, a smoked chilli, though this was somewhat lost in the mix. Pretty good, if not much of an eye-opener.


So far, sopaipillas

Next came Beef and chicken sopaipillas, and these pumpkin dough mini-pancakes were really the stars of the show. I was particularly fond of the spicy chicken offering, with succulent, smoky marinated meat paired with fresh avocado and tangy salsa. The pan fried steak alternative brought similar flavours, but with slightly less depth than the chicken. Delicious, and we’d have eaten more of each if we didn’t have so much eating to do later that day.

We were warming to Rica Rica, only to be betrayed by the non-availability of avocado ice-cream, which looked an interesting option on the short list of dessert offerings. Those offerings were on a chalk board, one of nature’s most-easily updated information points. No matter though, we went for the other option: sweet sopaipillas. Well, we’d established that we liked sopaipillas, so what harm could it do? These were miniature versions, topped with salted manjar (dulce de leche, as far as we could tell), mint and strawberries. A simple but enjoyable combination.



I vowed to go back one day and try the avocado ice-cream, but never did, which just goes to show that, like opening hours, we all make promises we can’t keep. We enjoyed at least one new foodstuff from Chile in the form of sopaipillas, and we were left with the sense that Chilean food could be elevated to the same prominence other South American cuisines have achieved over here. The ingredients are all there, even if Rica Rica only offers a taste of their potential.

‘London’s Only Chilean Restaurant’?

Food: 3.5

Atmosphere: 3

* El Vergel in Southwark serves predominantly Chilean food, so would probably dispute this claim.


The hottest Wednesday since records began finds us at Joe & Sophie’s for some Chadian cookery. It’s 35ºC today – the same temperature that it is in Chad itself at the moment – so we eat outside on the balcony.

In the usual search for country facts to cover the numerous lulls in conversation, we turn to the internet. Steve’s flatmate has made some wild claims about the great amount of paved runways than Chad possesses, but these are soon debunked by no lesser authority than the  CIA World Fact Book, which says that as of 2012, Chad had an estimated 58 airports, only 9 of which had paved runways. As you probably already know, there are at least 5 African countries with more paved runways than Chad.

That matter resolved, we investigate the infamous Chad-Romania flag contretemps. The countries share the same blue, yellow and red tricolour, and with the removal of the crest from the Romanian flag after the death of Ceaușescu, the flags were virtually identical. Romania made a fuss about this apparently, which is a bit rich given that they were the ones who changed their flag, and meanwhile Moldova and Andorra are a lot closer and also parading around with the same colours. In the end, each kept their flag, when closer inspection revealed that the Chadian blue is indigo to the Romanian cobalt.


Our minds positively bristling with ‘interesting’ ‘facts’, we turn to the meal. Sophie’s starter is Courgette with Peanuts. This sounds worryingly simple, but in fact it has that Italian simplicity: surprisingly successful and a good combination of flavours. The courgettes are soft and close to melting, while the crushed peanuts bring texture that contrasts well. IMG_2456 Joe’s main course is a stew of river perch, or would have been if river perch were in any way available. Sea bass is much the same taste and consistency, he avers, saying he “read it on the web”. Frowning with doubt, suspicion and some disappointment, we tuck in, and find that what it may lack in authenticity, it makes up for with flavour. The fish has certainly had the full Chadian treatment, coated in flour, flash fried and then softly simmered for a worryingly long time with only a handful of tomatoes and a little liquid. It is served with plain rice, since fufu is the alternative, and there’s no call for that. Fearing the fish may have rubberised, Joe has forced the rice into silly little cylinders in an attempt to mask substance with style. Yet ultimately the course comes through with flying colours. The fish is well cooked with a crispy edge and has taken in much of the intense flavour of the slow-cooked tomatoes. IMG_2462 Finally, Steve’s dessert is a sort of custard made from cooking sweet potatoes for hours and hours in milk, cream and sugar, flavoured with cardamom and saffron. It’s sweet but strangely perfumed; Steve announces that he’s glad he ate it, and he doesn’t need to eat it again. Joe goes back for seconds, since it reminds him of grandma’s pumpkin pie. Sophie isn’t sure what to think. It’s divisive, but in a good way. The feeling is that it might be good as a filling for a Portuguese custard tart, or as a quirky breakfast topping…


Food: 3/5


Courgette with Peanuts

  • 3 small courgettes
  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 2 tbsp butter
  • 120g peanuts, ground to a fine powder

Simmer the courgettes in salted water until very tender (about 10 minutes). Combine the courgettes with the butter and mash to a smooth consistency. Top with the nuts and serve immediately.

Chadian Fried Fish with tomatoes and rice

6 medium-sized fish (river perch, or equivalent – for our version we used two sea bass fillets per person) 2 garlic cloves, cut into slivers 2 tbsp flour 5 tbsp oil 3 tomatoes salt, pepper, cayenne pepper Serve with: plain rice, fufu, or fried plantain.


Clean and scale the fish and then cut into steaks. Pierce the flesh of the fish and insert garlic slivers. Dip the fish in flour. Heat the oil and fry the fish on a high heat. When the fish is golden brown all over add the halved tomatoes. Add a little water, cover the pan and simmer for 40 minutes. Add a little more water if necessary – you should have enough liquid for a small amount of sauce at the end. Serve on a bed of rice.

Safran patates douces pudding

Steve thought he was being clever here, finding a recipe in a French cookbook and translating it. However, upon translation it turned out to be the same recipe that was on Celtnet, which is somewhat less exciting.

  • 1kg sweet potatoes
  • 750ml milk
  • 250ml double cream
  • 100g white sugar
  • ½ tsp saffron
  • ½ tsp ground cardamom
  • Cinnamon sugar to decorate

Peel the sweet potatoes and cut them into 1cm cubes Bring 1l water to the boil in a saucepan and add sweet potatoes. Boil for 25-30 minutes. Drain and return the sweet potatoes to the pot. Add the milk, cream, sugar, saffron and cardamom, stirring to mix the ingredients evenly. Bring the mixture to a boil, over moderate heat, stirring frequently. Reduce the heat and simmer for about 1 hour, until the mixture is of a thick enough consistency to maintain its shape. Using the back of a spoon, force the mixture through a fine sieve, into a serving bowl (or, in the absence of a sieve, just put the lot into a blender). Serve at room temperature or chilled. Sprinkle with icing sugar, ground cardamom or cinnamon sugar before serving.


Chadian treat breakfast

Central African Republic

Steve’s house

22 April 2015

I can’t pretend that we were looking forward to this one. The menu didn’t look promising at first, with the dreaded fufu (tasteless dough made from cassava flour and water) poised to take centre stage. However, lowering our expectations to rock bottom paid off with pleasant surprises all round.


Joe started with Ragout d’epinards aux arachides, a stew of spinach and peanut butter that worked out nicely, the butter part forming a rich sauce around the spinach, cut through with chili and tomato.

IMG_3932Then came Steve’s Kanda, meatballs in a tomato chilli sauce, but no ordinary meatballs. These were formed of almost as much ground pumpkin seed as meat, which created a surprisingly light and moist consistency. Normally they would be served with fufu, but we saw no reason to ruin it.

IMG_3935Finally, Sophie deep-fried her delicate banana fritters in a lime-tinged batter, which were light and crisp outside with meltingly sweet interiors.

An impressive performance across the board. We should be slower to judge (and avoid fufu if at all possible).


Food: 3.5/5


Ragout d’epinards aux arachides

400g spinach
1 onion, chopped
1 green pepper
1 red chili, chopped
1 tbsp peanut butter
80ml water
1 medium tomato
salt and pepper

Fry onion on low heat for 5 mins. Add pepper & tomato & fry for 1 minute. Add chili & spinach. Cover to wilt. Add water and peanut butter and mix into sauce. Cover and simmer for 15 mins until thick.


350g steak mince
350ml pumpkin seeds
1 onion, 1/2 chopped and 1/2 sliced
3.5 cloves of garlic, mashed
2 large fresh tomatoes, peeled, seeded and diced
1 red chili
1 small bunch of parsley
50ml iced water for the meatballs
175ml water for the sauce
50ml groundnut oil
salt & pepper

Slightly roast pumpkin seeds in a pan, then grind to a powder. Put mince into a food processor and add pumpkin seed, garlic and chopped onion and mix up. Season with salt and pepper.

Stir in the iced water and knead well for 3 minutes. Refrigerate for 30 mins.

Fry onion slices in oil for 2 minutes over medium heat in a large pot. Add the tomatoes and chili and cook for 5 minutes.

Pour in rest of water and bring to a boil, then simmer. Meanwhile, make meatballs, each about the size of a golf ball. Turn up the heat and place each meatball in the sauce very carefully.

Cook over high heat for 10 minutes, then on medium heat for 20 minutes, and finally simmer for 30 minutes. Serve with plain rice.

Beignets de banane

3 ripe bananas
6 tbsp plain flour
1 tbsp sugar
pinch of salt
1 egg, separated
finely-grated zest of 1 lime
100ml milk
1 tsp water
1l oil, for frying
icing sugar, for dusting
Sift together the flour, sugar and salt into a large bowl. Form a well in the centre and add the egg yolk. Stir to combine then add the milk and water. Beat until the batter is smooth. Add the egg white to a clean and dry bowl, then beat until stiff. Gently fold into the batter along with the lime zest. Cover and set aside to rest in a cool place for at least 60 minutes.
Peel the bananas and cut into slices. Heat the oil in a pan and when hot, dip the banana slices in the batter and immediately drop into the hot oil. Fry until nicely browned and heated through. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain on kitchen paper as you cook the next batch. Serve hot, dusted with icing sugar.

Cape Verde

Joe & Sophie’s flat, Deptford

23 January 2015

Steve's 'Calamar a modo ze de lino'

Calamar a modo ze de lino – a twist on a Cape Verdean classic

The wonderfully free Cape Verde looks and sounds like a lovely place. An archipelago of volcanic islands, quite far off the coast of Senegal, it was colonised by Portuguese explorers in the 15th Century, and gained its independence from Portugal in 1975. We focussed our search for a restaurant on the South Lambeth area, reasoning that Cabo Verdeans in London might gravitate towards the Portuguese-speaking community there, but we failed to find anything serving food specifically from the island nation. So it was onto the Internet, to find a fairly encouraging range and quality of recipes, and over to Deptford to cook them, with our special dinner guest Bish in attendance.

Cachupa rica - a revelation

Cachupa rica – a revelation

Steve’s starter should have been Polvo a modo ze de lino (an octopus stew), but failing to find any octopus, this became Calamar a modo ze de lino. This was tasty and hot with chilli, and a good appetiser for the heavier main course, Sophie’s Cachupa rica. This is Cape Verde’s national dish, a hearty stew of beans, polenta and chorizo with a big black pudding stuck in the middle. It was delicious, most of us going back for seconds.

Pudim de Queijo - better than you'd think

Pudim de Queijo – better than you’d think

Finally, Joe’s baked pudding was Pudim de Queijo, which was like a cross between baked cheesecake, creme caramel and pannacotta, refreshingly simple to make and also delicious.

So, even our inexpert take on Cabo Verdean food turned out well, which suggests that the real thing must be even better. Definitely somewhere to consider for our next holiday.


Food: 4/5

Calamar a modo ze de lino


  • 8 baby squid
  • 1 bay leaf
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 2 vine tomatoes, chopped
  • 1 tsp tomato paste
  • 1 clove of garlic
  • 2 shallots
  • 1 green chilli, chopped finely


  1. Wash squid, pull off tentacles and slice bodies
  2. Put squid in saucepan with the bay leaf and oil and cook on a medium heat for 5-10 mins
  3. Add tomatoes, tomato paste, garlic, shallots and chilli and cook down until stew-like.

Cachupa Rica

1 cup polenta
1 tin sweetcorn
1/2  tin kidney beans
1/2 tin lima beans
1/2 cup shell beans
half a chorizo sausage, sliced
1 blood sausage (ideally morcella but blood pudding works)
pack of bacon or pancetta, sliced
1/2 a cabbage, chopped
1/2 squash, peeled and sliced
4 sweet potatoes, peeled and chunked
1 onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1 bay leaves
1 tablespoon chopped coriander

1) Add two tablespoons of olive oil, onion, garlic and bay leaf to a pan and fry until soft.
2) Heat six cups of water. Bring it to a boil and add the sweetcorn, polenta and beans. Simmer until the corn and beans are almost tender.
3) In a separate large saucepan, cook all the vegetables, except for the cabbage, together with the chorizo, and bacon.
4) Add the cooked vegetables and meats into the large saucepan on top of the sweetcorn and beans. Add in the whole blood sausage. Cook on low heat for approximately one hour.
5) Add the sliced cabbage and cook for a further 10 minutes.
6) Turn off heat and let sit in the covered pot for at least one half hour.
7) Place on a large platter, cover with the coriander, and serve.

Pudim de Queijo

Ingredients (serves 6-8)

  • 250g of smooth cheese, such as mild goat’s cheese or ricotta (or a combination of the two)
  • 250g caster sugar
  • 5 eggs, beaten
  • 250ml of double cream
  • 8tsp liquid caramel or runny honey

To finish (optional): crème fraiche, fresh fruit


  • Preheat fan oven to 160°C. Mix all of the ingredients (either in a food processor or by hand) until they are well combined and form a smooth, custard-like liquid.
  • Grease individual pudding moulds/ramekins – or, for a more traditional shape, a single large bundt tin – with butter. Pour a small amount of cool liquid caramel or runny honey into each mould, so that it just covers the base.
  • Fill the moulds with the Pudim mixture, no deeper than 1cm from the top. Stand the moulds in a baking tray full of water (ideally deep enough to cover the lower half of the moulds), and bake in the oven until golden brown on top – approximately one hour.
  • Remove from the oven and allow to cool before turning out. Serve with crème fraiche and fresh fruit if desired.


Stacks Poutine, at Birthdays, 33-35 Stoke Newington Road, London N16 8BJ

31 October 2014

For Canadian food, the obvious venue is the Maple Leaf on Maiden Lane, but a look at the menu was not very encouraging, since the Canadian credentials of the dishes is largely achieved by sticking the names of Canadian cities onto the front of bog-standard pub food. Fortunately, we have got to this part of the world at the same time as the hipster food meme that is Poutine. Poutine is a French-Canadian dish comprising chips in gravy, topped with curds, and is surprisingly good. The current trend for Poutine means a few places serving it have popped up in east London, so we headed for Stacks in Dalston.


Pulled pork poutine: inevitable

For aperetifs we tried the local specialities of Cocovino (coke and red wine; weird) and Lagerita (lager with tequila; good). Then for the poutines themselves, which came with a range of toppings. There was a kimchee option, which Steve considered but eventually bottled out of, choosing instead the pulled pork (making its inevitable appearance on a Dalston menu). Sophie and Joe chose the Coq au vin and Bacon and sour cream toppings respectively.

And it was all pretty good. The restaurant itself is just a ‘cool’ bar, so not much in the way of Canadian atmosphere.


Food: 4/5

Atmosphere: 2/5


Le Maestro, 45 Deptford Broadway, London, Deptford, UK SE8 4PH 9 October 2014 This was a combined “foods of the world” and “2D film club” meeting, where we would eat the food of Cameroon while discussing the film club film, which was The Draughtsman’s Contract. Poor turn out from the rest of film club, but Jamie did join us. The restaurant was empty apart from us and a couple of guys drinking on the other side of the restaurant. The walls were painted bright orange, and the tables simply laid out with starched white tablecloths. On the walls, large TV screens showed French sport TV, and a picture of national icon Samuel Eto’o hung near the toilets. A mix of African (and less African) music was playing (except when England-San Marino game came on, and they switched to that with the sound right up). It all felt pretty authentic – I imagine a restaurant in Yaoundé might be just like this.


There’s a fish in there, and he’s not happy

We skipped starters (other than pints of Heineken) and went straight to mains, Joe opting for Poisson à l’arachide (fish in peanut sauce), which was rich, thick and sweet, with a pleasant tang of tomato. Jamie went for Viande à l’arachide, and Sophie for the Poulet roti (with plantain).




Steve went for the characteristic dish of Cameroon, Ndole. This was prawns and lamb chunks in a morass of oily green vegetable, spinach-like in consistency but more bitter. This was interesting at first, but the bitterness became too much eventually, and there was an awful lot of it. In fact, portions were very large all round.

Fungee tentacles: different shape, same old problem

Fungee tentacles: different shape, same old problem

With eyes bigger than our bellies, we also ordered side dishes of fried plantain and fungee sausages, which looked – and tasted – like something out of Alien: thick, cloying and sticky. It could be sliced into rubbery coins but, left on the plate as it ultimately was, it no doubt reassembled itself and went in search of another unsuspecting diner.

The waitress was very pleasant, as was another chap who may have been the owner, but service was very slow indeed.


Food: 2.5/5 Atmosphere:3.5/5


Lemongrass, 243 Royal College Street, London NW1 9LT

18 September 2014 (day of the Scottish independence referendum)

Unfortunately, we have few memories of this, and no notes. The menu claims that the secrets of Cambodian cuisine were lost in the 70s during the Khmer Rogue purges, and the cuisine offered here is a new Cambodian food based on the chef’s memories of his childhood meals.

We do remember that the experience felt a bit like eating on garden furniture in someone’s front room, and I seem to remember the windows being very steamy. I think we had the set menu, with some buddhist cabbage on the side. Overall, I suspect the food was “OK”.


Buddhist Cabbage

Mixed starters

Mixed starters

Lok luk fillet steak

Lok luk fillet steak



Food: 3/5

Atmosphere: 3/5


Steve’s house, Streatham

13 May 2014

I’m afraid we don’t remember much about this meal – even the photos don’t look familiar. The starter was probably by Sophie, and was a Burundian bean soup, which looked like this and was presumably hearty.

Burundian Bean Soup

Burundian Bean Soup

Steve’s main course was mackerel with plantains and kidney beans. I think this must have been made up, based on the general information about Burundi food made on this page:


Finally, for dessert, Joe made Bananas Burundi – banana in orange syrup with banana crisps. This was also a bit suspect, the only source being this page, which claims “The bananas Burundi is made with cinnamon, orange juice and flavored with Curacao or apricot, all garnished with sweetened sour cream and brown sugar.” Joe says “despite appearing nowhere else on the internet, that’s good enough for me. We all know there are no real Burundian desserts, and this is no more spurious than the “Banana and Date mix” that appears everywhere else.”



Food 3/5


Burundian Bean Soup

  • 1/2 tin  lima beans (I used black eyed beans)
  • 1/2 tin white beans
  • 1/2 tin pink or red beans
  • Stock to cover ingredients
  • 1 onion, chopped
  • 1 green pepper, chopped
  • 1/4 tsp red chilli flakes
  • 4 sticks celery, chopped
  • Handful parsley, chopped
  • Handful of basil, chopped
  • 2/3 tbsp ground cumin
  • 1 tsp salt
  • Handful unsalted peanuts ground to a powder
1. Add the stock to a non-stick saucepan and add the onion and pepper.
2. Cook until softened then add the celery, herbs and spices and cook for 3 minutes.
3. Add in the beans and cook, uncovered for 30 minutes. When almost ready add the peanuts and cook for 15 minutes more.
4. Season and serve in bowls.

Mackerel with beans and plantain

  • 500g kidney beans
  • 6 plantains, sliced
  • palm oil / groundnut oil
  • 1 onion, chopped
  • salt & pepper
  • 3 whole mackerel
  • White rice

Heat oven to 200°C. Fry onion in oil. Add beans, plantains, onion and seasoning, plus 50ml water and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 30 mins.

Bake mackerel in oven for 20 mins. Serve on top of plantain/bean mix and rice.

Bananas Burundi

(Serves 3)

  • Bananas x 3
  • Stick cinnamon
  • Fresh orange juice 150ml
  • Brown sugar 50ml
  • Cointreau or Curacao or Grand Marnier, measure
  • 4 fresh apricots (or 6 dried)
  • Sour cream
  • Icing sugar tsp
  • Sweet plantain chips

Stone the apricots and cut into quarters.

Put the orange juice, cinnamon and sugar into a pan and bring to the boil. Seethe, stirring continuously, until it thickens into a light syrup. Then stir in the Cointreau. If it gets too thick, add a little water.

Stir icing sugar into sour cream.

Slice the bananas lengthways, scatter apricot pieces on top, pour the syrup over them, and serve with sour cream on the side. Sprinkle plantain chips on top.