Sunday, December 31

The Masque Bar

The Masque Bar in King's Cross is either a pub (to judge by the local crowd who seem to have crawled out of the nearby KX estates), or a trendy bar (a select collection of bespectacled northern European trendies on both sides of the bar spend their time fiddling with vinyl or greeting each other with cliquey secret handshakes), or it might even be some sort of tiny club (from the imposing DJ booth and disgusting floors).

Whatever, Gastroboy visited the Masque yesterday as part of an impromptu 'how do we get from Islington to Soho' pub crawl. Now it might be because it was the Saturday before New Year's Eve, or maybe just that it was a bit early, but the place contained an un-atmospheric 4 customers and managed to be both filthy and simultaneously reek of disinfectant. In particular, the toilets are a work of art. Not exactly dirty but damp and musky. Every available surface was wet to the touch, and there was some evidence of stalactites forming on the bare electrics hanging out of the holes in the ceiling.

That said, the music was ok (until they put the best of Sheryl Crow unplugged on) and it is very red. And it is of course next to King's Cross Station, making it automatically a lot better than most of the local competition.

Beer is not nice, but not overpriced at £3 for a Kronenbourg. It was not noted whether food is served, but this is not a good venue for a Sunday lunch in any case.

Monday, December 11

The Duchess of Kent, The Buffalo Bar

Everyone likes The Duchess of Kent, a friendly gastro at the slightly less gentrified end of the Liverpool Road. Difficult to describe because it does a pretty decent job of being most things to most people. It's light and airy, with a Provencal paint job and a liberal spread of surrealist paintings. At the same time it's warm and cozy with leather armchairs arranged around the roaring fire. And, of course, like most pubs in the area, it's definitely not one to visit on match-days.

The pub is shaped like a giant L, with an (Islington style) drinkers bit at the front complete with sofas and the daily papers, and a large non-smoking dining area at the rear. The food served is decent enough (gastroburgers on breadboards, daily specials depending on the catch of the day) but feels a little over-priced due to their strange practice of rounding all the prices up to the nearest fiver.

Gastroboy celebrated his birthday there over the weekend, a disorganised affair involving around 20 people all arriving and leaving at different times. Perhaps consequently, the service was a little random, with some table orders taken for food and drink, others ordering at the bar and things generally not getting cleared away. None the less, the antipodean leaning staff were extremely friendly ans helpful, a refreshing change from the snooty attitude found in many of Islingtons top-end gastros or the pretty ineptitude of the staff in some of the noisier youth-oriented establishments.

A great pub.

The Buffalo Bar is a tiny venue hewn out of the basement of the diabolical Famous Cock next to Highbury and Islington station. Gastroboy refused to enter the Buffalo bar for a long time in the mistaken belief that it was connected to the footie-focused chunder factory upstairs. It turns out the Buffalo Bar is actually a brilliant little venue, bringing up-and-coming Indy rock and roll bands to trilby sporting Islington trendies. Not a gastro so doesn't really belong on this blog, but worth a mention because it was where Gastroboy concluded his birthday. An interesting layout, great bands playing late, decent bottled beer at a reasonable price (for a club venue) and a rock-oriented disco until 2 all contributed to a brilliant night out for a well lubricated Gastroboy and a comprehensive schedule of UDIs on Sunday morning.

Saturday, December 2

The Red Lion, The Angel

2 pubs.

The Red Lion is lost in Mayfair's maze of backstreets near Shepard's Market. It's not a gastropub, but it's a good solid fancy a pint style boozer. Not really worth posting, except that Gastroboy went there for a pre-departmental Christmas thing drink last night and is now very hung over. The only things of note that he can remember is that there was board announcing the day's selection of sausages.

The Angel (Highgate) on the other hand is a gastropub. Gastroboy is used to Islington prices, but even he was taken aback when asked to pay £8 for a pint of Kuppers and a white wine spritzer. But then this might have been the first time he's ever ordered a spritzer, so maybe that's what they cost.

The team used to go to the Angel quite a bit but gradually became irritated by the limited and unchanging menu, the slightly flat Star, and the beautiful young people behind the bar who are to few in number to cope with the pub's popularity and probably more interested in talking to the beautiful young people on the other side of the bar than actually serving. And so it was that Gastroboy's first visit to the Angel in quite a while was a pleasant surprise.

The menu's changed a bit (not much but slightly) and offered Gastroboy, amongst other things, Beef Wellington for £13.50. This turned out to be a giant Cornish pasty filled with a quite delicious sirloin steak served somewhere between blue and raw. An even cleverer trick given that they never asked Gastoboy how he would like it cooked. Now this could have just been because the chef was too busy being beautiful and talking to his friends to notice that he was serving practically raw food, but Gastroboy is going to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that either the Angel takes a strong and fundamentally correct view on how long to cook red meat for or that the beautiful people also possess telepathic abilities.

Beer-wise, the pub's got better. At least 3 euro-wiessers, fruli, leffe, some other silly things too. At first GB thought that Kuppers was the only non-specialty lager, but the bar staff grudgingly admitted to still serving stella and Carlsberg. Wine list's pretty good too, currently featuring seasonal mulled wine. Wasabi peas and pistachios in brick-heavy tumblers complete the set.

And it is still the best looking pub in Highgate. A beautiful effort.

Sunday, November 26

The Ship

It's not often that Gastroboy can be persuaded to travel as far as Wandsworth. Free tickets to Twickenham to see England play South Africa will help. So too will the prospect of a visit to The Ship, on Jews Row, although only slightly because The Ship, much like yesterday's rugby match, was fairly average and salvaged as an experience mainly by it's location.

The Ship is situated off an enormous roundabout, behind a McDonald's in the middle of a transport and industrial complex, which doesn't sound very promising. However, all that crap is largely abandoned on a Saturday, insulating the pub from the 'hustle and bustle' of London. Plus it is also on the banks of the Thames and has a large conservatory patio area over looking the river - excellent in the summer. All good so far.

Inside is a fairly standard gastro by numbers effort. Wood floors and paisley patterns on the seat covers. The menu is equally predictable - Should I have the swordfish steak or the 9.95 gastroburger? However, there's a lack of pretension (by gastro standards) here that's quite refreshing. Bread and olives came with butter in little foil packs. The burger is just an 'Angus beef burger' not a '21 day aged...', and when gastroboy ordered it, no-one enquired as to how he would 'like it done'.

And actually, it was a pretty good burger. No ridiculous trimmings or fillers. Just a tasty, herby butcher's burger served with excellently light and fluffy fries. Apparently the sausage and mash was ok too.

The pub also has a posher, restaurant bit, which serves the same food but with pre-set tables and an encouragement towards the promisingly extensive (and expensive) wine list.

Not much more to say about this one. Definitely not worth crossing the river for, let alone taking the Wimbledon branch of the District Line. But if you find yourself near Wandsworth Bridge and in need of a pint of Star you could do a lot worse.

Sunday, November 19

The Noble

Stop press.

Gastroboy has discovered a brand new Gastropub in football focused Finsbury Park. Calling itself The Noble, this isn't quite a pub or a cafe but not really a restaurant either. Cake and coffee on the menu combined with densely packed tables suggest an upmarket cafe, whilst a bar based structure and splattering of trendies drinking pints of Spanish lager whilst reclining on battered leather sofas and reading the complimentary papers suggests a gastropub. The prices are more reminiscent of a restaurant but then, based on the lunch time sample today, the food is of appropriate quality.

Sunday lunch was meat and veg focused with a choice of roasts, various veggie mushroom risotto type dishes and an (excellent) pork thing. The medium rare pork, stuffed with apple chunks marinated in a Chinese spice and served over roasted root veg in a soy and meat juice gravy was a definite hit. The weekday menu appears to be more substantial and will definitely require a second visit. The team also approved of the unobtrusive music which fluctuated between Portishead and The Eagles.

Located amongst the faded kebabery of Crouch Hill, The Noble appears at first a little incongruous decked in its subdued gastro tones. However, a mere three weeks into its life it is already popular with the local three-wheeler pram brigade and there was barely a free table left when the team departed around 5pm today.

Gastoboy approves of anything which provides a viable alternative to the Old Dairy and the Larrick on this stretch of the Stroud Green road and will be encouraging his friends to visit The Noble again.

The Porterhouse, The Barnsbury

Yesterday was interesting. Owing to an unhappy coincidence of work-travel, work-work and poor social planning on his part, Gastroboy has been rather busy of late. So it was with some regret that Saturday was spent running around London is a blind panic being late for things, rather than sleeping or similar. As usual some of the things in questions were London pubs.

The Porterhouse near Covent Garden is not known for being a harmonious mix of Sunday papers, ambient music, and eclectic fittings illuminated by giant airy windows. It is in fact know for being a vast, dark, sweaty Central London pit where access to bar is via a scrum (if that's the correct collective noun) of giant South Africans. But that (the team were assured by the Internet and others) is in the evening only, and let's face it, the Porterhouse does have one of the most extensive lists of world beers in the city. And since the team hadn't been there for lunch and since Gastroboy's punishing schedule required a Central London lunch venue, it was decided to give it a go.

On the plus side, the lager/stout/ale list is titanic. Confronted with such a choice, the team overwhelmingly resorted to the house lager (a drinkable Teutonic pilsner called Temple Brau) The only variation on this being a bottle from Austria labeled 'The World's Strongest Lager' which at 14% tasted somewhere between sherry and Kestrel super strength. Gastroboy imagines that an excellent evening could be spent here comparing the lagers of Laos and Palestine, or blind tasting central European Hefes and Weisses . Except that he knows what evenings in the Porterhouse are like.

The food is pretty average at best. The portions were hearty enough, but construction was uninspiring. A 'super hot burger' transpired to be a bog-standard grey frozen burger (albeit a big one) with a virtually undetectable splash of sweet chili sauce. Beef and Stout stew basically turned out to be a vast beef and ale pie without any of that girly pastry stuff. That said, nothing was actively unpleasant, which is a substantial improvement over 95% of the neighbouring public houses, and the service was quick and efficient.

Gastroboy was much more comfortable with the choice of venue for the evening meal. The Barnsbury on Liverpool Road in Islington managed to defy its reputation as a snooty, unwelcoming establishment when a reservation-less Gastroboy, his brother and his eighty year old grandfather turned up for dinner at 6.25 on a Saturday night. Further more, owing to jazz commitments, the trio had to be out by 7.10, well ahead of the average patron's dinner time. To the credit of the Barnsbury, tables were moved around and they even opened the kitchen early to accommodate.

Beer in the Barnsbury is surprisingly standard, San-Miguel and Leffe at the top end but with the likes or Carling or Stella available. They have a good wine list, unsampled on this occasion. The food, though, is excellent.

The menu is definitely upmarket gastro, with more of a French or Mediterranean flavour than some. No gastro-burgers or wilted leaf spinach chiabattas here, but no roast partridge or game pie either. A Confit de canard managed to be moist and succulent, yet with a crispy skin and fall off the bone nature that most Chinese restaurants can only dream off. And served with mash and over a red cabbage thing that was perfumed with wine, cloves and vinegar like a Christmas evening, fantastic. Gastroboy's relations has the sea bass which was also thoroughly tasty and very fresh.

A one course meal with booze cost around £20 a head making this a little pricey even by Islington standards. But if you are looking for somewhere that is 60% restaurant and 40% pub (don't even think about going there if you aren't planning on eating), don't mind spending a bit, and want to keep on drinking once you're done, then Gastroboy can recommend the Barnsbury.

Incidentally, Gastroboy can also recommend the music of legendary 60 year old jazz bassist Dave Holland and his slightly more sprightly quintet, who played last night at the Barbican. One of a relatively small number of things that will make him rush a meal and leave the pub less than an hour from arriving.