HIX, Soho (London)

Of course, the moment I saw Mark Hix, I greeted him like an old friend. "Hi! (old Chum [implied])". Mark Hix is not an old friend. He is not even old. Or a friend. This is merely the cringeful reflex reaction to any "celebrity" sighting which I can't seem to shake.

Naturally, as I am not eminent on-trend artist or a member of the London glitterati, or barely even a sane looking member of society really, M Hix did not return the cheer. However, I decided not to take it personally. For one thing, I did have my nose pressed against the freshly polished glass of his spanking new restaurant while looking slightly deranged in my running gear and an enormous woolly beanie at the time. Also, I really like the food at his Hix Oyster and Chop House in Farringdon. So I decided not to let my pride get in the way of a potentially good feed (while secretly hoping some fabulous revenge would be delivered, like a tough serving of overcooked cod's tongue).

So I couldn't resist ducking back to HIX Soho for a quick lunch time bite yesterday. As I was flying solo, and heading out for a huge evening feast later, I perched myself up at the bar, befriended the barman, ordered a healing glass of red and peered sleuth-like over my menu at the plates on surrounding tables.

Hix does the traditional British fare thing well. The menu offers a tempting array of seafood, poultry and meats all of which looked and smelt as good as they read. Yesterday, I stuck to a dish of herring milts on toast with capers and parsley. Simple, but lovely, with a generous serving of milts, the only drawback was the toast being a fraction too thin. (Me persnickety??)

The delicious side loaf of bread was robust and served warm. Service was surprisingly friendly and I loved the casual but dapper feel of the classic styled room (despite the hospital type white tiles on the floor). Mark Hix was again doing the rounds among the regulars - steering well clear of me of course.

My lunch and wine came to around £14, and I thoroughly enjoyed my midday break. Next time I'm up for a leisurely splurge, I would definitely return to sample a larger feast of what's on offer. I'm not sure I would prefer HIX over other restaurants charging similar prices, and there is better value in town, but if you can get over the hype the man certainly knows how to serve up good British fare.

HIX, 66-70 Brewer Street, Soho, London W1F 9TR

Ba Shan, Soho (London)

It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind. Or at least, that's the line I've been using to justify my sudden change of heart about Ba Shan. Of course, this is much to The Peanut Gallery's inordinate frustration, since he has been expelling much hot air trying to convince me to return for some time.

I first visited Ba Shan many months ago and my studied and thoughtful synopsis was something along the lines of "wottever". Perhaps it was just that my loyal heart was already dedicated to its older sibling, Baozi Inn, or maybe my expectations were set impossibly high by a load of good sentiment on the foodie grapevine (although opinions are now passionately divided). But it's all by the by now, because I've given Ba Shan another burl.

It all came about because Tim doesn't like Baozi (wottever). So, amidst a frenzied craving for Chinese food, we offered up Ba Shan as an alternative.

In contrast to the clattering throng at most of the Chinese restaurants across the road in China Town, Ba Shan was almost eerily quiet when Tim, the lovely Sarah, TPG and I settled into position on Saturday night. The restaurant is divided into a series of separate crannies, each with their own theme and character, although I prefer the corner room with the windows overlooking the noble (cough) street scenes of Soho.

Ba Shan specialises in Sichuan street food and "xiao chi" (small eats). The food from this Chinese province is known for its spiciness and the liberal use of chili, garlic and peanuts. The menu offers a large array of salads, small meat dishes, dumplings, noodles, buns and vegetarian friendly plates.

We ordered up aplenty, all the while pretending to show consideration for Tim who is dancing with the devil (the Atkins diet) during his 6 week wedding countdown. But we can't all suffer...

We started with the five spiced beef salad with coriander and garlic, which I loved - colourful, fresh and tasty, if a little lacking in spice. We gave short shrift to the whole tawdry Atkins notion by stocking up on some chashou (Sichuan wontons) with spiced soy sauce, chilli oil and garlic, which were full of meat and flavour. Next came the unusual gutoie, a pan fried series of long wontons, golden and crisp on the bottom, filled with juicy pork and chive filling.

The twice cooked pork then presented itself (one of my favourites), followed by the spicy Sichuanese noodles (which were spicy by name, but not quite enough by nature) and a fairly run-of-the-mill beef stir fry.

I had urged that we try a couple of servings of the lotus leaf buns (soft, steamed dough filled with pork). The fact that they were unexpectedly bright, Kermit green, did not put us off. However, the overwhelming dill flavour reminded me more of a McDonald's burger than was likely intended in the recall of ancient traditions by our Sichuanese chef.

The best dish of the night was the spicy kung pao chicken. Despite our best efforts to spice it up, this was the only truly fiery dish of the evening. The chicken was delicious, as were the plentiful large peanuts and hot chillis immersed within.

Overall, the food was tasty, enjoyable and worthy of return. However, more spice is required in most of the dishes promising chilli if it is to live up to its full Sichuanese promise. While Baozi Inn remains my sentimental favourite, I certainly prefer Ba Shan to its other sibling, Ba Shu across the road, although I can almost see TPG shaking his head - so, perhaps I should give that one another go too. And we found it to be reasonable value, coming in at around £15 per head (with endless tea, but no alcohol).

Of course, the lack of desserts could have been a major drawback. Unless, of course, you happen to be nearby to one of the best Italian gelati shops in town. Just as Tim's ketosis was starting to take hold, we settled in up the road for a scoop or two. And as free late night tastings of chocolate cake and Nutella crepes were offered our way, the last words I heard muttered were a resounding salute to what the Atkins diet could do with itself.

Ba Shan, 24 Romilly Street, Soho, London, W1D

 

Beard Papa, Soho (London)

I had never before seen a grown man thrust his entire head into a pastry. Then came the day The Peanut Gallery discovered Beard Papa. Since then, I swear I am sometimes woken up at 4am as Peanut fitfully shakes his head from side to side in his sleep, burrow frowed, muttering "Beard Papa, Beard Papa....".

Beard Papa is a Japanese bakery which specialises in cream puffs. It started out in Osaka in 1997, and like all good Japanese fads, has spread around the world. Specifically, in our case, it is conveniently positioned at the scraggly end of Oxford Street in London.

Its cream puffs are billowing clouds of creamy-custardy heaven.  They look a bit like giant profiteroles with custard cream overflowing from the edges. Decadent and delicious, they are the perfect dirty little secret.

The custard cream is more creamy than eggy - lightened by fresh cream and made delectable by vanilla bean. All this whipped up creamy goodness is encrusted in a puffy layer of choux pastry. Scrumptious.

There are ever changing flavours of the day, like green tea and chocolate. But I'm a traditionalist when it comes to custard cream (and creme brulee) so nothing will ever surpass the rapture of the original vanilla puff. Oh, they sell other things too. But when you can see your cream puff being freshly made, and a never ending stream of cream is squirted in before your eyes, there really is no other option.

Cream puffs are £1.30 (plus an extra 10p for the flirtatious flavour of the day). A tad hefty for a puff, but totally worth it if you want to come over to my place and see a grown man diving head first into one.

Beard Papa, 143 Oxford Street, Soho, London W1D 2JB

Dehesa, Soho (London)

 

Here's a hypothetical for you. You're booking dinner for a group which includes a steadfast Spaniard who respectfully considers that most Spanish restaurants in London are rubbish. So what type of establishment do you not go to?

Yuh. So, naturally, I booked us into Dehesa. No pressure.

And, of course, then I discovered that I wasn't even pronouncing it properly - it's De-esa, not De-Heesa. Not a flying start.

My companions on Tuesday were my lovable Peanut Gallery, the fun-loving Chris NC (again), Chris' fabulous wife Maggie, the lovely Yinglei from Beijing and our die hard Spaniard (and litmus test for all things authentically Spanish), Oscar.

Fortunately, De-esa is always pretty good. Its fare is a flashy combination of Spanish and Italian influences, with a modern London spin, so eating there is never going to mentally transport you straight to Madrid.

Some of its offerings are more authentically Spanish than others. I have it on good authority from my faithful Spaniard that the pork belly was true to the test. Delicious and crispy in all the right places, and set in a clay dish with flavoursome, rosemary scented cannellini beans, this was one of the favourite dishes of the night (£6.25).

The Jamon Iberica de Bellota "5J" Cinco Jotas (£12.80) also passed the litmus test. And more. Eating it in polite company was quite problematic - rich, creamy and mouth watering, it almost necessitated a minute's silence to worship each mouthful lovingly in all its glory. I could quite happily have limited the meal to a plate of each of the jamon, some bread, cheese and wine. Glorious.

The Spanish selection charcuterie was fine, but not in the same league - a nice selection of mild chorizo, salami, iberico pork with oregano and paprika edged loin ($8.60).

De-esa also offers up some of the Salt Yard essentials, such as our much loved courgette flowers with goats cheese and honey. But at only 2 per plate, they are hard to share without a surgeon's knife and a steady hand, and at £7.25 per plate it's pricey to order more.

We also sampled the classic tortilla - our Spaniard noted (head shaking, despairing tone) that the potatoes were not correctly sliced (£4). Our other dishes included some lovely chorizo (£4), the beetroot carpaccio with goats cheese, pinenuts and merlot dressing (£4.50), spiced butternut squash with chilli, ricotta and marcona almonds (great almonds, weirdly spiced squash - £4.75), patatas (always good - £3.50), braised shoulder of lamb with gnocchi, wild mushroom and speck (lovely! better than it looks above - £6.50), seared scallops with sweetcorn puree, truffle and peashoots (£9) and prawns with borlotti bean stew (I somehow missed this one, but it was Maggie's favourite dish which is good enough for me - £6.50).

Our puddings were chocolate cake with frangelico ice-cream matched with a glass of Pedro Ximenez, and calasparra rice pudding with stewed figs and cinnamon ice-cream knocked back with a sweet, golden Gerwurztraminer Passito.

The wines were among the winners of the evening. We shared a lovely full Rioja to start, followed by a bottle or two of red from Ribera del Duero (always delectable).

Runner up in the Time Out Best New Restaurant Awards 2008, my only real criticism of Dehesa is the prices. Ok, we drank a bit and ate a lot. However, at £45 a head, I would expect all dishes to be the quality of the Iberico, or at least somewhat more ample in size.

So, it's a really fun place to eat, drink and be merry, and the food is generally delicious. But watch your purse strings, and don't promise Madrid to your Spanish amigos. Salud!

Dehesa, 25 Ganton Street, Soho, London, W1F 9BP