Steak+ (part 2)

I awoke Saturday morning with a heavy belly and with the smell of the previous nights beef still lingering in the air. So you can imagine the task of calling up a steak house and booking a table for that same evening was not particularly appealing. But persevere I did and by noon that day I’d confirmed a table for 4 at Chiswick’s foremost meat eatery, Chakalaka.

I was first made aware of Chakalaka through a piece of direct mail which landed on my doorstep. Normally I deposit such junk straight into the recycle bin, but on this occasion an interesting headline caught my attention. Chakalaka – a South African restaurant located on Barley Mow Passage – was offering a free t-shirt to anyone who successfully completed their steak challenge. In the words of my good friend & founding S.A.S member Dylan, they could not have sent their marketing communication to a better suited recipient.

I was joined at Chakalaka by Mark Savage, Alex Edwards & Nick Kernaghan. We all agreed to take the steak challenge, which we were told involved eating 25 ounces (700 grams) of prime Rump steak in less than 25 minutes. Confident that this was an achievable task, we asked what the record time was, which we were told was a little under 10 minutes. Personally I prefer not to rush my meals, so the thought of scoffing beef at a rate of 100g/minute was not something that appealed to me. The same could not be said for Mr. Kernaghan however, who decided that the record was his for the taking. When the steak arrived Nick wasted no time in getting started. And within a couple of minutes he had made a mighty dent on the Rump.

Meat Mountain

Chakalaka is most accurately described as a themed restaurant. The decor is hideous, complete with zebra prints, Zulu artwork and other South African paraphernalia. The waiters and bar staff are nice people – our waiter John in particular – but they are certainly not knowledgeable about the food they serve. My expectation of the food we were going to eat was therefore not very high.

But when I first tasted the Namibian organic rump I was more than impressed. The meat was cooked to perfection. I ordered it medium-rare, as I find rump steak that is cooked rare usually retains a little too much blood for my liking. It was slightly salted and had a great texture and natural flavour to it. For those who like sauce they had either a mushroom,pepper or monkey gland on offer. However being a purest I opted for none of the above.

Whilst the rest of us slowly chewed our way through our mountains of meat, Nick was well on his way to smashing that record. By the time he’d finished his last mouth-full only 8 minutes had passed, a pretty impressive feat by anyone’s standards. The remainder of us all managed to empty our plates within the 25 minute threshold and were deservedly presented with our Chakalaka t-shirts soon after.

We wobbled out the restaurant at about 11PM and stopped for a brief night cap before heading home.

I’ve calculated that this weekend I have eaten almost 2 kilos of steak. Note to self: go for a long run this week and book yourself in for a colonic.

Futuristic steak

Inamo's menu

Last week I had lunch at a place called Inamo – an oriental fusion restaurant on Wardour Street in Soho.

There are no waitresses at Inamo. Instead you place your order via an interactive menu from your table. Using the mouse you navigate through the menu, previewing the dishes, which are projected onto your plate from above. The system also lets you set the mood, order a taxi and if you are really bored you can even play games.

It’s all quite naff really but still a bit of fun.

Steak on a stone

Unsurprisingly I opted for the steak. The ribeye cut was served on a hot stone with three sauces; Nam Jam, Soy & Truffle. The meat was really tasty though I was not a great fan of the sauces.

Verdict: Worth a trip as it’s a fun and quirky dining experience.

Brown Dog. They like Dogs.

Brown Dog Barnes

If you ever find yourself wandering around the back streets of Barnes, you might be lucky enough to stumble upon the wonderful place that is the Brown Dog. The Brown Dog is best described as a Gastro pub – though I am not a fan of this phrase, as it is over used and often associated with bastardisation of our once great market of independent public houses (note to all: if you have not already signed up to the Axe the Beer Tax campaign to save British pubs, you can do so here). Enough of the rant, back to the Brown Dog.

Anyway, this place is great. The decor is shabby yet chic. The wooden tables and chairs are scruffy and mismatching. The wine list is written in chalk and changes as regularly as the seasonal menu. There are chicken-wire covered cabinets displaying a range of home-made chutneys, jelly’s & marmalade’s. A horseshoe bar stretches around the centre of the room separating the drinking and dining areas (though on weekends people are eating on every table). There’s a lovely fireplace and contained garden for summertime dining. The atmosphere is relaxed and enjoyable. They like children (which was lucky as we had a very loud one) and they love dogs.

We visited the Brown Dog – not for the first time – this Sunday for a pre-Xmas family get together. I chose the roast beef and was very pleased when the above plate landed in front of me. The meal was perfect in every respect. The beef was of the highest quality – supplied by a company called Select I was informed – and was sufficient enough to satisfy the healthiest of appetites. It was cooked to perfection along with everything else on the plate, which included a large Yorkshire pudding, a decent number of roasties and a couple of root vegetables.

We washed the beef down with a couple of bottles of Cycles Gladiator Pinot Noir, which was also scrumptious. There was not room for pudding but they served a very good coffee to round of the afternoon.

I thoroughly recommend a visit to the Brown Dog. Go there.

Fake steak.

Hmmm....what's for dessert?

My buddy Bob was visiting London this week and as Picanha was fresh on my mind I suggested we pay a visit to Rodizio Rico.

Bob is a man after my own heart. He lives in Italy in a town called Breganze, which is not far from where I lived. When I lived in Italy we frequently ate out together and it was not unusual for Bob to eat over a kilo of beef in a single sitting. Bob is American and frequently visits the US Airforce base in Vicenza to pick up vast supplies of Porterhouse steak for the deep freeze. Beef is important to Bob, so when he visits London we always take the time to visit one of London’s many steak shops.

I’d heard good things about Rodizio Rico and was really looking forward to eating there. I booked a table at the Westbourne Grove location, which is situated between Bayswater and Notting Hill.

That part of London is a hotpot of multicultural cuisine. As you walk down Westbourne Grove you’ll see pretty much every major type of global food represented in some way. Sadly the majority of restaurants are distinctly average and lack authenticity.

The inability of restaurateurs to replicate the ambiance and cuisine of their native country abroad is something that baffles and annoys me. It really should not be difficult to take a concept that works well in one country and apply it to another. Yet somehow so many restaurants fail in this respect. In London I can think of only a handful of good restaurants that genuinely compete with their native counterparts.

To keep such establishments in check I’ve created a rating system to measure how well they’re doing their job. It’s called the M.E.A.T score.

M is for Meal. This rating is based on how well the restaurant prepares and serves the dishes in accordance with their local traditions. It considers ingredients, cooking methods and preparation.

E is for Environment. A score given to restaurants based on their efforts conveying their native culture. It’s about the design of the venue. And of course the authenticity.

A is for Atmosphere. This score is given to how relaxed and happy customers appear to be. Do they look like they are enjoying themselves? Collectively do they convey a positive feeling about the place?

T is for Team. This refers to the staff of the restaurant. Are they from the native country? Do they speak the language? Do they know anything about the food they’re serving?

All metrics are scored out of 10 giving a final score out of 40. Anything over 30 is respectable. Between 20-30 is acceptable…just. Less than 20 and I start getting flustered.

Never judge a cook by it's cover

On paper Rodizio Rico should be most carnivores idea of heaven. For the very reasonable price of £22.50 customers are treated to the ‘eat as much as you desire prime cut BBQ meats, salads and hot dishes’ menu. The format is simple – grab a plate and fill it with the side salad of choice, then take a seat and wait for meat to be delivered to your table. The over zealous waiters at Rodizio Rico don’t waste anytime in filling the bellies of their customers. In fact it seemed that not a minute passed without one or other of them arriving table side and flopping a slither of meat onto our plates.

At first I appreciated their enthusiasm but after a few mouthfuls of the beef I quickly realised that the cuisine was a far cry from what I remembered from my Brazil trip. The meats were cooked on a horizontal rotating grill similar to the Churasscuria’s of Brazil. However from a taste perspective the meal was not great. The meat was average quality and the cooking technique resulted in most of the meats having a tough and chewy texture. Even the specialty Picanha was not up to scratch. An opinion shared by my eating partner.

The quantity of meat certainly does not make up for the lack in quality so for the Meal score I am awarding Rodizio Rico only 4 points.

In terms of environment sadly Rodizio Rico falls into the ‘relying on stereotypes’ category. Soon after we arrived a projector-screen was lowered from the ceiling and a Brazilian music video started playing. I don’t remember video screens in any of the Churasscuria’s I visited in Brazil so why have them in London?

The decor of the restaurant was evidently trying to come across as authentic Brazilian but you get the feeling that it’s trying too hard. Brazil is not about chintzy paraphernalia. It’s far more understated than that. To convey the genuine Brazilian ambiance Rodizio Rico should take a leaf out of Favela Chic’s book.

No points for effort I’m afraid. A measly 4 points are awarded for environment.

There’s no doubting Rodizio Rico appeals to the masses. I’ve been told about the place by at least a dozen mates in the past year or two, all of whom spoke favourably of it. And they’ve recently opened a new location in the O2 centre so business must be going well enough.

The atmosphere in the Westbourne Grove restaurant was fun and people certainly seemed to be enjoying themselves. I think it’s the uniqueness of the restaurant that appeals to people. Whilst Rodizio Rico didn’t appeal to me it obviously does to others, so in term of atmosphere I’m awarding them a respectable 8 points.

The final score is awarded based on the performance of the staff. We were greeted nicely enough on arrival, but overall I was not impressed with how well we were dealt with. Points are immediately deducted for the heavy handed waiting staff who seemed more interested in offloading their meat onto our plates than knowing or caring about what it was they were serving us. We asked several questions about the food we were being served but the waiters did not seem to know a great deal about the menu.

After the meal Bob tried to strike up a conversation with one of the waitresses, though she was even less interested in speaking to us than the waiters were in telling us about the food. The chef controlling the Rodizio managed a smile when I asked for a photo but that was about the extent of it.

I’m sure they were all nice enough people but the lack of knowledge and interaction means a score of only 3 in the team category.

The total M.E.A.T score for Rodizio Rico therefore stands at 21 – the lower end of acceptable and not really a great result.

Verdict: Bahia beats Bayswater. Hands down.

A safe bet on the Gigi’s.

Sadly last weekend was without steak. I enjoyed plenty of great quality wine and experienced some of Manchester’s finest curry, though beef was not on the menu. This week then I’m going to tell you about one of the greatest steak restaurants I’ve ever eaten in.

I lived and worked in northern Italy between the years of 2001 and 2005 in the picturesque town of Bassano Del Grappa. It’s a stunning place in the foothills of the Dolomite mountains. Like most Italian towns Bassano has its fair share of fantastic eateries. It’s a very wealthy part of the world and the town itself is quite pretentious, so many of the restaurants in the town centre are quite poncy. Venture a few miles out of town though and you can choose from any number of brilliant Agriturismo’s or Trattoria’s.

Eating out in rural Italy is cheap and the out-of-town places are particularly good value. You can have a three course meal with coffee, wine and all the Limoncello you can drink for less than twenty euros. During my time spent in Italy I probably ate in restaurants more than I did my own home.

Top of the list of places I frequented was Al Castellaro, or the Grappa Gun restaurant as most of us knew it. Al Castellaro is hidden away in the hills of San Eusebio in the outskirts of Bassano. The restaurant is hard to reach by car. So hard in fact that the owners purchased a couple of Land Rovers to ferry customers up the daunting dirt path that leads to the restaurant.

Gigi & his Grappa gun

The format at Al Castellaro is always the same. When you alight the 4×4 you’re greeted at the door by Louisa – the wife of the owner – who takes you to your table. Depending on how busy the place is you can usually choose from one of three dining areas. The main room is usually better for large groups or parties. The converted conservatory area is the cosiest and nicest looking. And if the place is heaving then you are sometimes relegated to the upstairs section which is not as pleasant.

Having seated you, Louisa then dictates the entire menu at some pace and in Veneto dialect. As we were usually entertaining our foreign friends or family, this process often took considerable time.

The menu is simple and like all great Italian restaurants changes with every season. First up is the ‘Prima’, which is normally a pasta dish of some sort. Bassano is famous for a pasta called Bigoli – basically a fat spaghetti – and the sauce of choice is typically duck which comes minced. I usually opted for this but I had one or two other favourites including a Cannelloni and a Gorgonzola based pasta bake.

I was always weary not to fill my belly with pasta however, preferring to save myself for the ‘Secondo’. For the main you can select from around ten different meat dishes. The menu is unashamedly biased towards carnivores and caters little for vegetarians.  And rightly so. There are three types of steak to choose from; a simple ‘beef-steak’ which is a fairly measly (but tasty) type of frying steak, the colossus Costata which is the Italian variation of the T-bone, or the Fillet which is the best on offer by far.

I always went for the Fillet but added the word ‘grandissimo’ before my order, which roughly translates as huge. Louisa always obliged and my Fillet usually weighed in at around 500-600 grams. The Fillet steak at Al Castellaro is to die for. It’s genuinely melt in the mouth stuff. It is sourced locally from a butcher in Veneto and is farmed in Italy. The Fillet at Al Castellaro sets the benchmark for Fillet steak. I’ve eaten some great Fillet steak around the world but nothing has yet to compare with the Fillet served at Al Castellaro.

After the main course the ‘Nona’ arrives at the table to take the desert and coffee orders. And then the fun begins.

The name ‘Grappa Gun’ is given due to the antics of the charismatic owner Gigi, whose role in running Al Castellaro is restricted to entertaining the guests. At around 9PM Gigi starts patrolling the premises armed with his makeshift Grappa Gun, which is basically a pump action spray-can filled with Bassano’s finest Grappa.

Nobody is safe from the wrath of Gigi and unless you put forward a serious case as to why you can’t get involved you will undoubtedly fall victim. The best bet is to cover yourself from the chin down with your napkin and open your mouth as wide as possible. After years of practice Gigi has a pretty good aim and most of what he offloads ends up in the intended target. That said I rarely left Al Castellaro without stinking of Grappa and feeling quite sticky.

After his hunt, Gigi can usually be found at the communal fireside table in the middle of the restaurant. Here he generously tops up his patrons glasses and offers his homemade anchovy-stuffed chili peppers, which are delicious. On occasion he also shows off his Pranotherapy skills, whereby he attempts to send his willing subjects into a trance. I witnessed one or two people enter a trance, but I think this was down to excessive Grappa consumption rather than Gigi’s mystic powers.

The night typically ends with a bumpy ride back down to base camp and long walk home. And the next morning is usually a little painful.

Verdict: Al Castellaro combines great food with an amazing atmosphere. Quite simply one of the great restaurants of this world.

Dubai. I’ll be going back there again soon.

Burj Dubai - It's huge.

I’m not in the business of posting holiday snaps to my blog. Most of the time it’s meat and a few pictures of the people I eat it with. In this case though I’ll make an exception. Not only because I think the photo I took of the worlds tallest building is rather good, but because I think the Burj Dubai is a good metaphor for my meat experiences whist there – it being enormous and of unparalleled quality.

I was visiting Dubai for six days last week with Will. We had a very busy schedule and not a great deal of time to explore the city – but still we found the time to visit a few good eateries. The first day or two we ate at mostly American style burger bars and my confidence in finding a decent steak house was quickly diminishing.

Luckily for us though we had a heavy dose of local knowledge in the form of my long time buddy Matt Pickering, a lush and a believer. Following a few drinks at the famous expat beach bar Barasti, we headed to the Al Habtoor hotel in the marina area of Dubai. Here we dined at one of the greatest steak restaurants I have ever eaten in.

The (near) perfect sirloin

The Grand Grill has all the ingredients of a perfect steak restaurant. A huge variation of meat to pick and choose from, a great wine list and an owner that is both knowledgeable and passionate.

The menu was simple yet effective. Firstly you select the type of cut you want. I went for the New Yorker, which is a sirloin cut. Secondly you choose the quality and there are three different types to choose from – though in fairness it’s all grade-A stuff. The cheaper option is imported from South Africa. Next up is beef shipped all the way from the pampas of Argentina. And if you really want to splash out you can go for the Australian reared cattle. No need to say which I went for. Finally you choose how much you can handle. For the New Yorker the options are 100g, 300g & 500g. Not wanting to leave with an empty belly I opted for the half kilo, rare of course. The picture above does not really do it justice. Next time I’ll be sure to put something next to it for scale.

Naturally I polished off the whole thing without so much as breaking into even a moderate meat sweat. It tasted fantastic though my only gripe was that I think they could have done with leaving a little more of the fat on the cut. I find with grilled sirloin that it is always better to leave the fat on when on the flame as it gives the meat that extra flavour you don’t get with the other cuts. A minor problem in this case though as the quality of beef was superb.

We washed the poor animal down with a fine bottle of Penfolds Bin 407, a particularly nice Cabernet Sauvignon selected by our hosts.

After the meal we met the owner – a man truly after my own heart. He spoke to us for a good fifteen minutes about where the beef was sourced from, the process of ageing which takes place during shipping which includes opening the vacuum sealed packs of meat, draining them of blood then resealing them several times and of course his experiences of running the Grand Grill. The man – who’s name I sadly forget (that’ll be the vino) – capped off one of my all time favourite meat experiences.

If you are ever in the area then do not hesitate in getting your hind down to the Grand Grill. You will not regret it.

The latest import

Other than our trip to the Grand Grill we ate at one or two other places including a beachfront Sushi restaurant that would not let me in at first until I went to buy a pair of shoes (apparently sandals in the desert are not appropriate footwear) and a Lebanese restaurant in a shopping mall that looked over an 800 metre indoor ski slope complete with real snow. Nothing really worth writing about though.

There is one steak restaurant we did not make it to that inscribes the name of any man who can eat the ‘ultimate’ steak on a plaque on their wall. A good enough reason to go back soon.

Verdict: I was not expecting much in the way of great beef during my trip to Dubai. The fact that I visited one of the bet steak restaurants in the world can only give me good things to say about the place.

Régal de viande

L'Auberge Provencale

Most of last week was spent in Cannes with my buddy and colleague Will, where we were attending Mipcom. Hours of meetings are usually followed by hours of socialising at one or other of the overpriced La Croisette hotel bars. Beforehand though we’ll typically eat at any one of the many local eateries.

The majority of French restaurants in Cannes have very similar menus comprising a reasonable selection of local dishes, but there is only one thing I’ll ever order. This year alone I’ve eaten seven or eight meals in Cannes and every time I’ve opted for the fillet of beef. Last week we ate at the L’Auberge Provencale, the L’Assiete Provencale and one other restaurant on Rue St.-Antoine in the old town whose name I forget.

L'Assiete provencale

Like most tourist traps the food in Cannes is rarely worth what you pay for it. The food is almost always overpriced but you’ll usually be guaranteed a decent meal made up of good local produce and fresh seasonal ingredients. Each place usually has a slightly different way of preparing the meat and serving it. The L’Auberge seared the meat until it blackened before gently cooking the inside through. The L’Assiete presented the beef Au jus.

The other place probably served the best quality meat but the service riled me to the point that I lost interest in being there. Not only was my food served 20 minutes after my eating companions but when it arrived it was not what I ordered. 20 minutes passed until my food eventually arrived. Needless to say I will not be going there again.

Rue St.-Antoine

Quantity wise I was happy enough at each of the restaurants. Each beef serving was between 250-350 grams meaning over the course of the three days I consumed almost 1 kilo of fillet steak.

I wondered if this was at all healthy and did a little research online to explore average beef consumption around the world. I discovered that the world’s largest beef consumers are the Argentinians who eat on average 155 pounds of beef a year (source: NY Times). That equates to 70 kilos per year, which equals 200 grams per day, every day!

Bearing in mind that this is an average for the population and there will be some fatties no doubt nailing 3 or 4 times that amount, I think it’s fair to say that my biannual French Riviera meat feast is perfectly acceptable and will do no long-term harm to my health whatsoever.

It’s a shame the same does not apply to the bank balance.

Verdict: Cannes is not a place to go if you are suffering from the current credit crisis.

Princess Victoria. A good place to eat if you are an elf.

Please sir, can I have some more.

Last Sunday I went to the Princess Victoria in Shepherds Bush for my friend Amy’s birthday. Amy is currently pregnant with Mark’s baby. Lucky girl. Lucky world.

The Princess Victoria is a an old Gin Palace situated on the Uxbridge Road. It’s recently been refurbished and I had heard some really good reports about the place. The venue is lovely and spacious. Nice decor and nice looking people. Not too poncy.

The Sunday menu was what you would expect. All the staples with a promise of great quality meat, something that always gets my juices flowing. I opted for the pork belly over the roast beef, a decision that was vindicated when Mark’s main arrived.

He ordered the beef. When it arrived he got angry. So did I. Take away the king size Yorkshire pud and I kid you not, it would not even have made a sufficient meal for an anorexic tadpole. There were two spuds, approximately a quarter of a baby carrot, a piece of broccoli the size of a nipple and a single mouthful of beef. The above picture does not quite do it the injustice.

Of course Mark complained and even the waiter agreed that the portion was rather tiny, even by the Princess Victoria’s measly standards. He wouldn’t budge though and we had to get the management over. The manager tried to spin us the story that they served only the best quality beef blah blah blah. Eventually he agreed to supplement Mark’s portion and sent another slither of beef to the table. He refused to top up other peoples plates though, so in the end Mark was obliged to share his extra beef with those unfortunate to have ordered the same.

In fairness to the Princess Victoria the feedback from the beef-eaters was that the meat was good. But there’s limits to how far you can push the quality over quantity argument and quite simply they took the piss.

Verdict: Nice place for drinks and good to eat if you are wearing a gastric band.