A Taste of WTM – World Travel Market Food

Gingerbread-making at the Poland stand

World Travel Market has come to a close. Another year, another day hot-footing round the stands, clutching at brochures, shaking hands, networking a gogo, soaking up the social media masterclasses and pitching to the press. Thank god then, for the array of tasty treats on offer – for those on a budget (me!) who see every event as an opportunity to soak up a country’s flavours!

Picante Mexican Grill – Jolly Jalepenos

Yarriba yarriba!

A yellow flyer is thrust into my hand outside Victoria tube station as I trip over the fifth “Stylist” distributor and shuttle past the ninth Pret a Manger on the one road. Picante Mexican Grill it reads. A happy “Mexican Day of the Dead” skull smiles up at me, full of the promise of fresh and tasty burritos, chilli-laced tacos and and silky green guacamole. “HURRAH!” I sing – “There is a God!” And he is clearly as sick of bloody Pret as I am!

Dinky Dim Sum at Jen Cafe

Dumpling Heaven...

A bright green corner caff on Newport Place just before the entrance to Gerrard Street, Chinatown, Jen Cafe is an unassuming dumpling bar with formica tables huddled together, a less-than-salubrious looking steamy micro-kitchen at the back end and a counter top for loners to sit at.

“I am your Father (Cafe) Luc.”

STEAK! STEAK! STEAK! A. is finally revealed...

The decision to eat at Café Luc was the result of a Twitter question on “where to go for a dinner à deux?”. Having been regailed endlessly in 140 characters about the joys of their Steak Tartare (possibly my favourite French dish) I felt an insurpassable urge to try it out. Well, despite the rave reviews – which I admit came largely from their PR Agency (hey, it’s what we do!), I came away a tad disappointed.  Suffice to say, the steak tartare was good. That’s it. OK, nice looking, tasty enough, but unmoving in any way. And lacking slightly in seasoning.

Moustache-less at The Botanist

The Botanist - Sitting proudly on Sloane Square

In case you’ve been on planet zog for the last month, you’ll know that this is “Movember” – up and down the country, teenagers with smelly socks disguised with Lynx have been trying desperately to grow a bit of chin fluff for charity, and older generations have relished the thought of finally finding out exactly how they’d look with a Hercule Poirot ‘tache. Everyone, that is, except Neil of superb whisky blog CaskStrength who in a defiant mood shaved OFF his legendary groomed moustachio and faced this chilly month with nary a protective bristle for his upper lip.

Which is how we met him at The Botanist – under the thin pretense of a press lunch, I was here to sample to goods and see if it lived up to the hype I had created for myself.

St. Martini at Dishoom – Zoom Zoom…

Get on your Bombay bicycle and head over now!

Dishoom is tapas Bombay style, or something along those lines. Wee plates of spicy goodness which my Indian co-diner insisted were highly authentic. So far so good then. And that’s before I discovered the chilli-infused heaven that is a St. Martini.

Dishoom, a stone’s throw from Seven Dials and next door to Jamie’s Italian, is a bright and breezy large bar, kitchen and dining room festooned in kitsch Bollywood memorabilia and 50s diner aesthetics. The open plan kitchen is fun to watch without invading the room, with the most entertaining chef (the one who whirls the Roti about above his head) is rightfully given the most prominence.

Domaine les Aphillanthes at La Trouvaille, Soho

I took a few folk from the Rendez-Vous Francais de Londres to a wine-tasting at my favourite Frenchy hangout in central London, La Trouvaille… This particular wine-club evening was themed on biodynamic wines from the Côtes du Rhône, showcasing specifically a selection from a small domaine by the name of Les Aphillanthes, run by husband and wife duo Daniel and Helène Boulle who got into biodynamic viticulture after discovering that their son suffered strong allergies which this kind of vine growing could prevent.

Poodles and Pudding at Café du Marché

Back from a brief jaunt in Paris, A. – E’s partner in dining crime – was feeling a definite nostalgie for the beloved cuisine of his motherland, and E is never one to turn down French food so a booking was promptly made for Café du Marché in Farringdon where a good friend works as a chef and which has been recommded to me on several occasions. We took our place at an uber romantic table, with a piano pleasantly plinkyplonking in the background and a lady with a “Dallas”-style coiffe to my left who took home half her dinner for her poodle.

Wining in London – the new Social Network

I moved to London 6 months ago after a 5 year absence swanning around Italy (swanning purposefully I might add) and then basking in the Surrey countryside. London is a scary city if you don’t know many people. For all its 8 million or so inhabitants and frenetic life pace, its damned hard to actually meet people. Facebook, twitter, etc. are all brilliant for following what your ex roommate in New Jersey is doing on her holidays, or knowing what so-and-so you were in Math class with is eating for lunch, but really, how social is it? Not a great deal. I didn’t see my nightlife getting any more glamorous thanks to a status update.

Everyday is Noël at L’Atelier de Joël (Robuchon)

Entering L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon is like stepping into a kind of deliciously sexy combination of Japanese geisha ryokan, Manhattan boutique hotel bar and upmarket Greek island disco lounge. The décor of dark woods, deep red, soft lighting and the living wall of climbing plants are as soothing as the staff who might as well stroll around offering hot facial towels and sponge slippers or the odd shiatsu shoulder massage such is the attention and gentle lulling towards the eating experience.