Yauatcha, Dim Sum in Soho

Sometimes, when one needs comfort food on a lazy Sunday afternoon, only dim sum will do. And as if to prove that comfort and style need not be mutually exclusive, there's Yauatcha. (There's also my new Massimo Dutti heels, the mildly glam-in-an-officey-way exterior of which belies a sensible, I'm-on-the-wrong-side-of-30, cushioned inner sole. But I digress.)

Yauatcha is a modern dim sum tea house with a refined air and a Michelin Star held firmly between its chopsticks. Formerly owned by Alan Yau, it proves to be surprisingly good value (say, around £25 per head) - particularly if you stick to dim sum and tea. Although I caution that the bill does start to stack up if you opt for larger dishes and wine.

The ground level, where we enjoy our lunch time dim sum, feels bright and fresh, with shades of blue and a large fish tank lining the entrance. Downstairs, is more dimly lit and clandestine - a popular option for the evening crowd.

We start with some roasted blue tea, the Fuijan Wuyi Yan, Shui Xian (£4 per pot), which we chose on the basis that other options are more expensive and our waiter tells us they all taste fairly similar. It's rather bland, and doesn't really improve with the food. Choose another one.

Dim sum comes in sets of 3 (reflecting the number's association with good luck and the word "alive" in Chinese superstition, but often resulting in heavy negotations for me and the TPG.)

The beautifully presented scallop shui mai (£7.50) is a treasure-like bundle of juicy scallops and prawns topped with gleaming jewels of roe. The winter melon dumplings look like pudgy carrots, but are an enjoyable taste of Thai winter melon, black fungus, straw mushroom and gong choi (£3.80).

The sticky rice in lotus leaf with chicken and shrimp (£4.80) is good (but not the greatest) but then the char sui bun (3 for £3.50) is fantastic (a must) - and also great value compared to the lesser morsels you might get for around the same price in Chinatown.

We steer off the dim sum menu to try the Szechuan seafood claypot (£17.00) - a fresh and colourful mix of prawns, (slightly too chewy) squid, peanuts, mushrooms, snowpeas, baby corn and chilli. TPG was more of a fan than I, but possibly because I think this a dim sum haven for me and I'm reluctant to diverge to the larger dishes unless it's for something extraordinary.

Our warm vanilla rice pudding with banana sorbet and caramelised pineapple (£7.50) is absolutely gorgeous, even if the pineapple was a little hard to negotiate. Handmade chocolates and macaroons are also on display - I tried a selection of 4 chocolates for £3 which were reasonably nice but no match for the pudding.

One possible hitch to any long, lazy, Sunday afternoon plans you might be hatching is that we were warned our table had to be returned after 2 hours - although no-one policed that once we sat down. We paid around £30 per head for our meal.

Yauatcha comes with my seal of approval for dim sum with a touch of glamour on the side. I was so impressed, that I've already booked us into Yauatcha's big brother, Hakkasan, next month.

My only regrets are that we missed the bulging, glistening har gua dumplings and the blue swimmer crab salad with sesame dressing, both of which we had to suffer through others enjoying on the next table. As if we need another excuse to go back.

Yauatcha, 15 Broadwick Street, Soho, W1F ODL (Tel: 0207 494 8888)

Princi, Soho (London)

When I think Milan, I don't think Gucci, Prada, Armani. I think Princi. (Ok, I also think veal milanese and the best red wine I have ever tasted, but that's another posting).

It was a cool, overcast day in March 2008 when The Peanut Gallery and I, feet aching from endless hours spent trodding the well worn, cobblestoned streets of Milano's shopping district, stumbled upon a breathtaking bakery. In a trancelike state, we were forcibly drawn, mouths agape, into its bounty of loaves, cakes and delights both savoury and sweet. Like greedy piglets at the trough, we ate everything - pizza, bread, sausage rolls, pastry, cake. All at once and in no particular order, we devoured, pillaged, ransacked and consumed, leaving in our wake nothing but a scattering of crumbs at our feet and a trail of grease around our lips. This is my lasting and most pleasant memory of Milan.

So it was a certain amount of gluttonous anticipation that we watched the familiar Princi layout spring up in Soho last year. Could it be the same one? If it was, would we ever be able to look down and see our feet again?

And so it was that Rocco Princi, famed as the "Armani of bread", teamed up with Alan Yau, the man behind Wagamama, Busaba Eathai, Hakkasan, Yautcha and Cha Cha Moon, to bring the Milanese baker's delights to London last year.

Helen and Suzi joined me there late on Friday night, after our invigorating Italian feast at a nearby eatery. We simply followed the drool up Wardour Street, passed the noses pressed up to the glass and stepped into the buzzing throng that is London's Princi.

For the food lover, Princi looks like food porn. The counter runs along the left hand side of the restaurant with giant bread ovens and shiny loaves in the background. It is stocked up first with Italian pastries, then a glitzy array of cakes, biscuits and slices. Further along come the olive bread sticks, focaccias and pizzas, enticing one down to the amazing and colourful side salads, before the counter intersects with a hot food bar containing meaty meals and various pasta dishes.

But let me start by saying something controversial. As far as the sweet stuff goes, with some notable exceptions, the overall impact of looking at a smorsgasboard of 20 colourful treats oozing with cream, custard and chocolate is actually more magnificent than any one of them, individually, tastes. The croissants and chocolate pastries were the biggest let down for me - expecting the French style pastries I love, I don't bother with the heavier, breadier Italian style pastries here.

The exceptions include the delectable custard filled cannoncini and the chocolate chip biscuits. The Peanut Gallery is addicted to these and if he does not bound in the door on the way home to pick up an evening selection, he is at least blaming me for deterring him from doing so by espousing my ridiculous notion that we should, in the interests of good health, hold back at least one night per week. As we stare into space entranced by the after glow of dinner, it will be a rare night indeed if The Peanut Gallery does not break the silence with a hopeful "Princi?"

On Friday night, the divas and I chose the happy triangle of passionfruit cheesecake, chocolate fudge & biscuit slice (I'm sure it has a more technical Italian name) and a bold newcomer, the lemon custard and sponge slice topped with soft, gooey meringue. The cheesecake is tangy and creamy and the chocolate fudge thing hugely rich. Both are good, but they are not as amazing as you think they will be when faced with a counter-full which could only be conceived by an Italian Willy Wonka on acid. The meringue number was the best.

The pizzas and salads are delicious, although we didn't sample them on Friday. And all are reasonably priced.

Service is chaotic and often disorganised. Serious teamwork and strategic coordination of military precision is required to obtain everyone's food items at the same time. Finding a seat among the communal benches is tough. And what's with the water feature running constantly down the back wall?

However, despite the catches, I still love it. Princi has a late night buzz and enough good stuff to keep us coming back, and to be attracting the crowds in their droves. It's open for breakfast, lunch and dinner until midnight (although I believe the doors are open all night in Milan...).

Princi, 135 Wardour Street, London W1F 0UT.