Bocca di Lupo

The day: 11^th December 2008, Dinner.
The place: 12 Archer Street, London W1D 7BB (tel: 77342223)
The venue: Ristorante Bocca di Lupo
The food: (Multi)Regional Italian
The drinks: Various Italian wines with a tiny smattering of others, many by the glass and the carafe, good range of prices and choices.

We aren’t great fans of Soho. So having to wait for forty minutes perched on a bar stool, watching other people eat, after arriving, at our booked time, at this new Italian restaurant in a Soho dingy backwater put us in the worst of moods. New computer system…problems…we hear the manager mumbling. Oh, we don't care, just give us the table.

We are ready to be very critical…Chef Jacob Kenedy (yes, it is spelled with one 'n')…beware!

As you enter, there is a slick bar with a loooong marble top

after which lies a cooking area (main kitchen downstairs), and then the dining area proper (you can also eat sitting at the bar, Arbutus style).

We are given the menu to pass our time while we wait. The peculiarity is that most dishes come in a small and large version. And there are quite a few, offering samples from all Italian regions. Prices are in the range £4-£12 for the small portions and they double for the large ones.

We were thoroughly pissed off with the manager by the time he led us to our table, so our mood sank even further when we saw what a table it was: a small, stained, dirty, unclothed piece of wood.

Here we go, we thought, here’s another hole serving pseudo Italian trattoria fare catering for the uncomprehending Soho-types and Brit-crits happy to eat substandard food on a greasy table and pay fine dining prices for that. Is this a new Sardo? Ohmygod. And while we are mulling such dark thoughts…

The bread arrives:

Well, we must admit...this is not bad at all: focaccia, sourdough ‘casareccio’ and walnut bread, accompanied by good green and black olives and good olive oil. Our mood moves up one notch. And we are mindful that such items are always a tell-tale sign in an Italian restaurant.

We begin to notice the warm décor, with large paintings on the walls in brown and orange tones. And the attentive friendliness of the service staff. Mmmh.

And then, the beginning of a full charm attack. Unexpectedly, something arrives with the compliments of the chef, the apologies of the manager for our wait, and the news that wine will be on the house:

‘Fritto misto di mare’ (£8.50 on the menu)

In the plate, squids, soft-shell crabs, prawns and even the lemon slices are battered and fried. Man is already giving in, but don't you worry, there is no way Woman, who just had to concede that the sourdough bread actually qualified as "good", is going to be softened this easily: surely it is going to be a pathetic fry up. And yet... the raw materials are of high quality, as well as very fresh, and after all the bad expectations the perfect frying (light, no dripping, the right amount of batter) is a truly pleasant surprise. The squids can be and often are a rubbery inconvenience (not only in our adolescent memories of meals in cheap seaside trattorias, but even in far upper scale venues), but here they are soft and light. The prawns do bring that whiff of the sea, and the crab is a delicacy.

Our ordered starters appear:

- Chestnut and porcini soup with rosemary (£6 for the small portion)

- Tortelli di ricotta with burnt walnut pesto (£5 for the small portion)

- Spaghettini with lobster, mussels and ginger (£12 for the small portion)

The chestnut and mushroom soup introduces us to some very bold, strong, flavours. Almost too bold and unsubtle for balance that of the porcini, and with a little excess of seasoning, which anyway contrasted well the chestnut sweetness. But they are very good flavours indeed, generous, clear, and the porcini and chestnuts marry very well in the dense, creamy consistency of this rewarding soup.

The spaghettini are delightfully fine, and precision in cooking is again on display: a study of ‘al dente’. We would have wanted to taste the olive oil more prominently, and would have wished the ginger –which sounded like a nice addition- to be more in the foreground, but the chilly was a little overpowering. This said, the sauce was intensely good, and the mussels and lobster of very great quality – the mussels’ in particular was emphasised by our experience in Scotland the previous week (stay tuned): these are no ordinary raw materials, this is no ordinary trattoria.

The tortelli were Man’s favourite starter, though he agrees with Woman that the pasta itself (made on the premises), while good, wasn’t at very top level, lacking elasticity. But what a nice ensemble, the combined sweetness and acidity of the butter, parmesan and ricotta beautifully standing up against the bitter burnt note of the walnuts. Not a timid dish, but extremely ‘gluttony’ and this time seasoned to perfection.

In all three dishes, the generosity of the portions is heart warming.

And now for our mains plus side dish:

- Swordfish a la Palermitana (£7 for the small portion)

- Grilled porcini and polenta (£10.50 for the small portion)

- Artichoke ‘a la Giudia’ (£5.00, side dish)

The swordfish was a really Sicilian dish. The fish itself perhaps was the least impressive raw material of the evening (we do not know where the beast came from, and we did not have the courage to ask the staff for fear of embarrassing them – already from previous exchanges we did not have the impression this is the type of place where you can ask too detailed questions, and get a satisfactory aswer). But the excellent ricotta salata and capers, the thick chunk of fish with its crispy bread coating (frying precision once again) made for a rich, assertive combination of contrasts.

The artichoke was not bad but a little more oily than the previous frying exhibitions, there was a little too much bitterness in the burned parts with nothing else to contrast it, and to be fair it was not really ‘alla Giudia’: the shape was not right, lacking the characteristic ‘squashing’ (two nice pictures are here, while here you can get the full story) In summary, not what you’d eat in the ‘ghetto’ in Rome, while still OK.

The thickly cut mushrooms (good) also had a slightly bitter edge from the cooking (a theme emerging), but this time it matched very pleasingly the sweet, soft polenta (standard restaurant practices might be behind the softness, but let’s not investigate). This dish, which lacked no fat, also comes in a version with ‘Lardo di Colonnata’, which would make it even richer and more luscious. Apart from the dietary preoccupations, the trio porcini-polenta-lardo sounds like a winner.

We are almost at the end of this gastronomic tour of Italy. Here are our desserts:

- Cassata Siciliana (£7.00)

- Brioche sandwich of hazelnut, pistachio and chestnut gelati (£7.00)

The brioche (a sample from Neapolitan cusine), let’s admit it, was not very successful, lacking moisture and airiness. The ice-creams were of the rich, fat variety (added 21/12/08: no, we are wrong on this, see here), which we like less than the leaner one, but very smooth and gratifying on the palate (mainly that of Man). The kaleidoscope of flavours was impressive and original.

The cassata was surprisingly restrained compared to the aggressive sugary assault it could be. We liked it this way. All the notes from ricotta (it should be from ewe milk in the original version, but this might have been cow or mixed), orange, chocolate and marzipan blended with balance and elegance.

We had tap water and a bottle of Pinot Noir Colterenzio Classico (2007), a basic but nicely made wine for this producer (£26). Without the front of house generous ‘reparation’ offer our orders would have cost about £95 for a still substantial amount of food.

The service was lovely. Perhaps due to our long faces in the beginning, the waiters were really charming and ready to accommodate with a smile any of our grumpy requests… and after all how many times is grumpiness just met with grumpiness (we chatted with another couple next to us –not really difficult given the proximity of the tables :-) - and even they were ravished by the quality of service). The (Scottish) manager, after an initial period of, how shall we call it, ‘uncertainty’, could not have gone more out of his way to make up for the screw up. We were impressed by him and by the way he must train his staff.

Chef Jacob Kenedy, his second David Cook and general manager Victor Hugo are to be congratulated for having set up a really nice little Italian joint (as you know, coming from us this is not a light judgement!). It’s not and it aims not to be ‘fine dining’, in structure, presentation and subtlety: it’s more rustic than that, as is the physical environment in the room. But there is clearly much thought about flavours, much striving for cooking precision, in those dishes. The menu is very well designed and appealing. If we really have to make a criticism (OK we don't have to, but we will), it’s about the occasional slight lack of balance and sense of proportion, almost as if there was too much striving for ‘authentic’ heartiness. Perhaps some slight retuning in flavour combinations and some smoothing of edges would bring the level even higher. But even so, the passion and the skill and the great materials were all shining on our plates. This is cuisine that for its simplicity still moves and strikes. Our meal compared very favourably with the likes, for example, of the more expensive Theo Randall and the more directly comparable (and still more expensive) Osteria dell’Arancio. We think this is not far from being the perfect, high level Italian trattoria in London (and we had given up!), capturing the true spirit of Italian regional dishes, with a personal touch thrown in, and a very apt and unusual sense of hospitality and generosity.

PS: (we have later discovered that the tables are made from reclaimed school laboratory worktops (teak), which explains their (desired) scarred appearance).

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Refettorio

The day: 20^th August 2008, Dinner.
The place: Crown Plaza Hotel, London, The City
The venue: Refettorio
The food: Italian
The drinks: Rather short wine list, Italian, good range of prices and wines.

To an Italian, the word ‘refettorio’ does not exactly conjure up images of fine food, but rather the pap you get at the school canteen. However, this ‘refettorio’ is associated with the great Locatelli (whose book greets you right at the entrance), so we are hoping for something a little better…

This is a hotel restaurant, but we have had decent experiences in London with hotel restaurants (e.g. Addendum) and even excellent ones (Number Twelve). The set up is quite nice. This is the entrance

And beyond it a glorified ‘refettorio’, with a rather stark, dark wood environment. No tablecloths, only tables where the grease of the previous service cannot and has not completely disappeared. Some tables for two are tiny and crammed together, others (like ours) are much larger and better spaced. The luckiest couples of all get one of the tables for four in a recess.

The menu offers plain Italian food, e.g. among starters (around the £10 mark) Mosciame di tonno (air dried tuna) with green beans, dried tomatoes, oil and lemon (£9.50), among pasta dishes (around £10 as a starter and around £12 as a main) ‘Paccheri’ with shellfish tomatoes and garlic (i.e. ‘in guazzetto’), at £10/£12, and among mains (around £20) Bread crumbed lamb cutlets, mash salad, pan-fried courgettes and semolina gnocchi (£19.75). No set menus at the moment, but there will be a ‘porcini mushroom special menu’ in a little while, and there are a lot of small dishes (fried stuff, pickles, salami, cheeses etc…).

At this point we normally tell you ‘The bread arrives’. But this time:

The bread does not arrive.

The waitress asks you if you want to buy the bread basket. Pay £3.60 for bread? In an Italian restaurant? You must be joking!

We buy it:

It is not described to us (maybe it is described to non-Italians), anyway we note a Focaccia pugliese, a ciabatta, a non-descript brown and a non-descript light pink (we suppose with tomatoes but they were not detectable in flavour). We’ve had better, but also worse, although in the latter case, at least, we did not have to pay.

As usual, we refuse the regulation olive oil cup, but the waiter asks if we want balsamic vinegar instead. What kind?, we ask. ‘It is from Modena’, he replies. Wow. It may have been from Modena, but could have been from the nearest discount supermarket, thin and lacking sweetness. Rather than serving this ‘balsamic’ vinegar, better not to serve it at all, we think.

The amuse bouche does not arrive.

Nothing here is complimentary. Nothing. Rather, we get pressured to buy some side dishes. No.

For primi we choose:

- Prawn filled Ravioli with courgettes (£9.75)

- Courgette flower Risotto (£10)

The ravioli are good, well-presented, with a good pasta and generous, tasty filling. The tomato sauce underneath comes as a surprise and is very intense, but unfortunately very, very heavy handed in terms of grease.

We had waited for the customary twenty minutes to have the risotto prepared, but given the result it might have simply been a show, with the rice reheated at the last moment. It was an amorphous, solid mass lacking any bite. There were plenty of fats in there, including cheese, but not much flavour and even less courgette flowers (essentially a decoration rather than an ingredient). On the other hand the courgettes themselves were present, and they were in fact the best thing in this regrettable dish.

For mains we have:

- Pan fried red mullet with potato cake and Mediterranean sauce (£19.75)

- Chargrilled swordfish with cherry tomatoes and rocket salad (£16.75)

The mullet is tasty, cooked well (very crispy, very moist), and the ‘hash browns’ on which it rests are pleasant even if a little salty. But once again the condiment is greasily heavy-handed, leaving your mouth too oily. And the peppers are watery and tasteless.

The thin slices of swordfish are also cooked well, tender despite being cooked through, and of good quality. The dish overall however is really basic and inelegant in the extreme, with a bunch of raw tomatoes simply chopped in half and some rocket thrown in. It’s a non-dish, what you might get in the most rustic of trattorias (at a small fraction of the price).

We think we have seen enough of this place. We share one dessert:

- Pastiera with ice-cream (dessert of the day) (£ 6.50).

It’s very ‘low’, unusual but interesting (aside form the fact that it is half portion compared to what you get, e.g. here). A little too sweet, but OK.

With bread at £3.60 (bread!), a bottle of water at £3.80 (steep), and a white from Marche (Roncoglia) 2006 at £24, the total comes to around £106 (for a two course and a three course meal). So a three course meal for two would set you back £115 inclusive of service (but, as usual in these overpriced venues, we deploy our bill-destroying weapon, a 25% discount, allowing us to comfortably meet our £100 barrier).

The service has a problem here. The sommelier is of the kind who looks over his shoulder and doesn’t show the bottle while you are trying the wine (should take a course at Boka). The dishes always have to wait too long when they come out of the kitchen. We noticed a dish served when the cutlery wasn’t on the table.

The dishes at Refettorio are very basic indeed, but, alas, the prices are definitely not basic. The standards do not stray too far from mediocrity, and often there is some unpleasant heavy-handedness: that’s why even the tables felt greasy! Moreover, this restaurant completely lacks the sense of hospitality good Italian restaurants offer you. You get instead the sense of being in a passionless enterprise in which you are just a victim. In other words (just in case it wasn't clear), they skimp on everything but wait for you to open your wallet wide. While you won’t be poisoned here, you don’t come here for the cuisine. You might even get an occasional glimpse of good cooking (especially the fish), and find edible food as a background for a business conversation (unlike, for example at Brunello) at steep prices and provided you do not look for lightness: but we regret we cannot find a single positive reason (not value for money, not cuisine standards, not pampering) to recommend to anybody to go to Refettorio. Even considering its money-spinning function, we are slightly disconcerted that the great Locatelli wants to associate his name with this operation.

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