A Rather Unusual Chinaman's Profile Page

I seem to be spending more and more time out in the East of London. Maybe Mark was right, the East is the center of all that is cool? Well, we know that I'm not just about cool (that made me chuckle a little) but it certainly has it's fair share of gastronomic landmarks. Although previous visits have seen me eat at markets, devour fantastic Bangladeshi grilled meat, play table football and drink the best coffee in London, I had yet to hit up Kingsland Road, also known as the Viet mile.

Last Friday saw me out East yet again when I went to watch some of the UK 2010 Barista of the year heats (absolutely fascinating by the way), and was the perfect opportunity to try out one of the more renowned restaurants on the Kingsland road, Song Que. After a rather lengthy wait, we were ushered to our table and with an iced Vietnamese coffee in tow, I started to make my way through the encyclopedic menu (it has over 150 listed items!). I got to about item 60 before my eyes started to get a little tired so I left it up to my dining companion to choose our dishes.

First up was Bo La Lot (beef wrapped in betel leaves). This dish requires some construction. First I was informed that I needed to take a single leaf of lettuce, line with noodles, herbs and pickled root veg (carrots and turnip, I think). The beef is then dipped in fish sauce and wrapped in the filled leaf. The ensuing sensory onslaught is quite something. Sweet and sour from the pickled vegetables, aromatic smells and deeply savoury beef. The lettuce adds a clean finish to refresh your palate, ready for the next helping.

Man cannot live on beef alone, so the crispy chilli squid was ordered alongside. I have long lauded the baby chilli and garlic squid at Mandarin Kitchen, my favourite squid in London, and unfortunately this didn't quite match up. That having said, they were far from bad. Although slightly on the salty side and a tad overcooked, still highly enjoyable and worth ordering.

All these dishes were merely the precursor to the main event. I was assured that this was the best Pho (pronounced "fur", thanks to @hollowlegs for that lesson) on the Kingsland road. Unfortunately, the resulting dish was rather disappointing. The essence of the pho comes from the intensely aromatic broth, steeped with flavour. Although the slices of beef and chicken, as well as the rice noodles were perfectly adequate, the broth was one dimensional and had none of the punch required. This probably had a lot to do with the time we were dining (9pm on a Friday night), but still disappointing nonetheless.

I was assured that this was not par for the course and we proceeded to discuss what the best tactic would be to sample the best broth. I think we settled for around 2pm where the broth would have had time to develop its deeply complex flavours, whilst not having run out and risked being topped up with standard stock. Deeply scientific analysis.

Although my visit was far from outstanding, the queues at the door tell me a different story. By the time we left (around 10pm) there were still lengthy queues, and considering that there are at least 10 other Vietnamese restaurants in the area, they must be doing something right. I certainly wouldn't rule out another visit, just maybe closer to 2pm next time.

The first time I went to Trinity, I took my parents to celebrate a rather important anniversary. The food was marvellous and beautifully presented, and I was heartbroken to find I had taken my camera out of my bag only the night before. I needed to go back, to sample the great food and to give it the write up (with pictures) it deserved.

Located in the heart of the old town, it is an oasis of calm away from the madness that is Clapham High street. Whereas the high street is heavily influenced by the indomitable Infernos and its crowds flowing from bar to bar, old town is much quieter with a few restaurants and local pubs and bars.

Trinity is conspicuously tucked away and I only succeeded in locating it once I had been informed that there were fairy lights heralding its entrance. The restaurant itself is unassuming, a simple and clean space with white walls and understated pictures adorning the walls. The staff are friendly and talking to them felt like talking to old friends. They have so much energy and I genuinely felt that they just wanted me to be happy and enjoy my meal. I hadn't even looked at the menu yet but felt totally at home.

As we were handed our menus, we were brought some warm homemade crispbreads with a smooth pink paste of salmon roe. Normally something I would turn my nose up owing to its intense fishy hit, I was pleasantly surprised by the layers of fishy flavour and although strong, went very well with the accompanying crispbreads. Digested with an aperitif of a rhubarb Bellini, we made our decisions and ordered.

The last timed I dined here, I did the unthinkable and went for an all fish menu (barring the few nuggets of chorizo that came with my halibut). This time, veering away from the enticing a la carte options, I ordered off the more straight forward but incredibly good value prix fixe. First up was a rather simple sounding butternut squash and parmesan soup.

I wouldn't ordinarily opt for soup but having previously tried their sublime white onion and truffle oil soup that my mum had ordered and remaining green with envy for the rest of the meal, I wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. I am so happy to tell you that this was delicious. Slurp after slurp saw spoonfuls of sweet butternut squash with the occasional burst of flavour from the salty flecks of parmesan disappear down my gullet. I wouldn't say that this is a conventional soup as the consistency was far closer to that of a light and delicate mousse, but I was reassured that the secret came from the fact that it was one third milk and one third cream. My arteries screamed in despair as my taste buds nodded their approval.

Next up was a solitary Toulouse sausage on a bed of puy lentils and dabs of cauliflower puree. A simple yet rather good main. I was slightly worried that a single sausage does not make a meal (breakfast maybe) but on reflection, the whole meal was actually finely balanced. The bed of puy lentils concealed a tiny treasure trove of lardons, although this tipped the salt balance of the dish a little too close to "generous". Jokingly, I asked our French waitress where the sausage had come from. Our rather animated waitress exclaimed "Toulouse of course!". If its provenance got her seal of approval, it certainly got mine too.

Finally, pleasantly sated, I had the pleasure of digging into my dessert of pear tarte fine with a liquorice ice cream. Absolutely fascinated by the ice cream, I tucked in straight away and what I got was a subtle taste sensation. With no initial discernible liquorice flavour, tasting much more like a plain milk ice cream, the slight aniseed tang descended upon the extremities of my mouth and finished with fresh licorice. Strange, but lovely. By the time I had tried to analyse exactly what was going on, I had pretty much polished off the ice cream, and devoured the remaining tart "au natural".

I had eaten well and wasn't ready to leave. I ordered some coffee and alongside came a rather generous portion of some of the most delightful nuggets of fudge I had ever tasted. They summed up everything I loved in this place. Simple, unpretentious food, well executed, beautifully presented and made with care and attention. My companion's "celebrity" goggles were on and spotted Jean Baptiste, maitre'D of the F Word, dining happily in the center of the room. I am sure if he had dined here a few months earlier, it would have been a shoe-in for best local restaurant. My local and I love it.

This year saw us head to Clapham and the aforementioned Bellevue Rendez-Vous. Located just round the corner from Chez Bruce and Brinkley's, it has some seriously fierce competition. Serving modern French food, it's not really reinventing the wheel, but it sticks to the basics and executes on these well with the occasional artistic squiggles and splodges. There are no airs and graces, with friendly service and informal decor. People drifted in and out with their obligatory pushchairs in tow (this area isn't known as the pram belt for nothing).

The starter of smoked duck on a celeriac remoulade was incredibly moreish, but that could have had something to do with the fact that it was a minuscule portion. I simply wanted more. My mothers wood pigeon was perfectly executed, with a reassuring pink tinge to the flesh, still tender and juicy. The tiny stack of pear chutney was the perfect accompaniment, although I am unsure as to what the dark streak down the middle of the plate was nor why it was there.

The mains were equally well executed. My roast venison had a slightly more rustic approach with everything slathered neatly onto my plate. Again, perfectly cooked meat and a really wholesome meal. Even though the presentation appeared more straightforward, the kitchen was still showing some invention with the introduction of the artichoke mash which was pleasant, if a little unusual. The confit leg of duck was also highly commendable. Although not my dish, the three portions ordered by separate members of my family meant that there was ample amounts of duck for me to scavenge. Crisp skin and moist flesh with bags of flavour, this also comes highly recommended.

Fit to burst, desserts were almost overlooked but you don't become a Teh without culturing a fearsome ability to eat, so a few were ordered and shared out amongst us. The poached pear was a triumph, simply poached in red wine, cinnamon and cloves to retain the flavours, gentle to the bite whilst not reduced to mush. This was accompanied by vanilla ice cream and the obligatory unnecessary squiggle.

Although it is clearly competing with some serious competition, it is more than capable of holding its own. What you get is delicious, beautifully presented, well cooked dishes. You can't really ask for more than that, now, can you?