Bistro Bruno Loubet, Clerkenwell

Uncle M was soon to arrive in London from New York. This normally merits booking a new, fancy restaurant, as he is not often in London and loves the restaurants here. Well, the kind of restaurants which I suppose you could say are at the moment unique to London (favourites include St John, Le Cafe Anglais, etc.) So, we booked the recent opening of chef Bruno Loubet, about which many good things have already been written. As the good reviews kept appearing, my excitement built up, along with slight glee at the thought that we had booked at just the right time to avoid being told there would not be a table for weeks.

A familiar problem to many arose in the form of an ash cloud within our air-space, meaning Uncle M would not make it to London in time for the restaurant booked in honour of his presence. Sadness all around.

Oh well, we went anyway. Sorry Uncle M, you did miss out on a pretty damn good meal. If you're reading, and for anyone else who needs persuading to splash out a tad and try this, here's how it went:

We arrived early and went through the hotel lobby to the restaurant area. The hotel, incidentally, based on appearances and the friendliness of reception staff, seems extremely nice and is very well situated. The Parisian maitre'd was very attentive, and patient with our indecisiveness as to whether to try something from the interesting selection of cocktails or to head straight to our table and get started on wine. We chose the latter, and were seated between the semi-open kitchen and the long bar.

We tried a bottle of 'White Mullet', an Australian blend of Riesling and a few other grapes, to go with our starters. All of them on the menu sounded appealling: I was tempted by mackerel and piccalilli tart with green gazpacho dressing, but I was too intrigued to pass up the guinea-fowl boudin blanc. It sat atop a pale green, foamy 'leek fondue' with chervil, which made the dish fresher than I expected. The boudin itself was nicely browned and crisp on the outside but inside, perfectly smooth, the texture almost of a souffle.

A skate terrine ordered by my mother was delicious with a gribiche sauce, and my dad's snails and meatballs was an exciting combination with lots of big flavours. The starter I had thought sounded the most boring was the Lyonnaise salad which L ordered. As a simple starter it was actually beautifully done, with a poached egg and some potato croquette fingers stuffed with ham.

Our main course choices didn't provide much variety unfortunately, as three of us opted for the quail and pistachio dodine, with my mother sticking to fish with a salmon confit (she's on a diet). The boneless bird was utterly tender, rich and juicy with a sweet and nutty stuffing. The egg-yolk and spinach raviolo was fresh tasting, and a great accompaniment.

Finally, the dessert menu came with excellent choices again. We liked the sound of rice pudding panacotta with marmalade, although dad claimed it sounded too breakfast-y and so simply couldn't fathom eating it when it was clearly 'dinner'. L ordered a selection of ice creams, which I presume were good; they were finished too quickly for me to try. Dad and I shared a quince mille-feuille. I don't know whether it was the sheer sweetness of the quince, or perhaps the orange blossom flavour that reminded me so very much of France, specifically a particular French sweet shop I have spent much time in. It was a lovely interpretation of the classic French patisserie treat, with fat chunks of the fruit holding up the sheets of pastry. I did not know anything about Bruno Loubet but I am certainly glad that he is 'back' on the restaurant scene, even though I probably won't revisit until it's justifiable to spend student loans on fine dining, or perhaps when Michael M is next in town - if this has whetted his apetite.

Bistro Bruno Loubet

The Zetter Hotel

St John's Square

86-88 Clerkenwell Road

Happy Hen

This is what an egg from a 'rare breed hen' looks like. Sounds snobby? I would urge everyone to splash out now at the Ginger Pig butcher where they are selling these for around £2/half dozen. They are really the best eggs I have ever tasted.

Needoo, Whitechapel

After a long journey home to London, a plan had been made to have a girls dinner before various people went various ways and there would soon be no chance for another month. A number of places were proposed for the occasion, in an attempt to cover north, south, east and west of London so no one could complain. A few hours later, we ended up in the queue for Needoo Grill. Now, like most people it seems, we came to be here after a failed attempt to get into Tayyabs, that famous Pakistani grillhouse only around the corner. I was actually happy about this, because unlike everyone else in London I have not been to Tayyabs, and so I could perhaps review Needoo without comparing it to the older (better?) brother of Whitechapel restaurants, as everyone else seems to have done.

Although it wasn't snaking round and around the restaurant and out of the door, the queue here was still impressive; we had to wait a good half an hour to be seated, by which time we were definitely ready to eat. We had a chance to review the menu in the time and make our choices: B and I, both determined to find the best things on the menu, had decided we had to have a mixed grill. We chose a dal on top of that, and a peshwari naan. This is obviously the sort of place where things are better off being shared. A however had a slightly different agenda: "Guys, I think I'll just go for a small prawns". Looks of confusion from B and I. "Yeah, I'm just feeling a bit angsty and weird. I'm not sure about having meat tonight." "Right..." This is quite a meaty place. She decided on a fish tikka, which luckily looked and tasted great. The angst disappeared. B and I tucked into succulent, spicy chops and the most delicious Seekh kebabs. The naan had just the right amount of sweetness to complement the chilli, and a trio of sauces for the table provided extra heat and flavour if needed.

The bill came to £26, and the three of us were absolutely stuffed. We had also brought two bottles of wine, which they didn't charge us to drink. Unfortunately only one was drunk as (and this, I suppose is the major let-down of a place that people queue for) the waiters hassled us to leave to such a great extent that even attempting to relax momentarily after eating all that food was not an option. Although there were a few tables free by the time we had finished, they just seemed to have it in for us. This said, on Saturday night's particular occasion I would much rather have been here, eaten some amazing, fresh Pakistani food, and bustled out quickly, than have waited an hour plus for a table at Tayyabs, bumping into others left right and centre (we saw one man's bottle of champagne smash on the floor and fizz sadly away because of the crush), possibly even after being seated. Forgive me, Tayyabs devotees, I know I have to try it, and I know too, that it might be better than Needoo. Might is the operative word, though, for I feel lucky to have tried this smaller operation first, as having a long-standing classic favourite can so often be a hinderance to judgement.

Needoo Grill

87 New Road, E1

Raclette chez Lillie

As is standard procedure when in Val d'Isere, we were invited to Lillie's for one of her signature Savoyarde meals. This will either be farcon, tartiflette or raclette. At around eighty years old, she has plenty of experience of cooking these dishes and comes up trumps every time, resulting in us all leaving absolutely stuffed full of cheese. This time it was raclette which we were invited for. Now, this is probably the simplest of these three meals to prepare, it essentially consisting of melted cheese with potatoes and assorted charcuterie, pickles, etc. If not done correctly, however, it might become a bland mixture of ingredients, and without the correct preparation the eating of raclette will not be quite the celebratory event that it should be. As you can see from the plates we were each faced with, attention to detail was a defining element of Lillie's forte...

Sadly Lillie's husband Theo, who would normally take charge of raclette carving, died a few years ago so Philippe or his sister Joel replace him at the helm. The cheese is heated under the grill until it comes to a ferocious bubble, darkening in patches like a piece of parchment. With a tilt of the mechanism, it can then be scraped off in one swoop onto an awaiting plate below. We were each given ours in turn, ready to be accompanied with the delights around the table. The new potatoes were brought especially from Lyon by friends who had grown them in their garden, and were the sweetest I have ever tasted. A slice of soft earthy tuber, crammed onto a fork with a piece of ham, half a cornichon and oily cheese cannot easily be topped as a casual dinner after a day of exercise on cold mountains.

As if we hadn't had enough after two - if not three - helpings of this, Lillie brought out a huge bowl of local 'doughnuts'. These are basically batter fried in flute shapes sprinkled with icing sugar. With a bowl of fruit salad, they made a perfect afterthought to such a heavy meal. During the course of the evening, a snow storm had started and we had to brave the cold as we left such a cozy apartment. We were luckily armed with gifts of Lillie's jams: 'myrtille-groseille' (blackcurrant and redcurrant) and framboise-groseille (raspberry and redcurrant), with the berries all hand-picked from the mountains. Her curly french handwriting makes them look beautiful enough, but tasted on toast, or even with soft goats cheese, a whole other league of appreciation is gained. The best party-bag ever.

In the Alps, restaurants in ski resorts either on the slopes or in town are always so overpriced and not necessarily particularly good so pic-nics in much more picturesque spots are the way to go. Here's one example of our gourmet sandwiches. Unfortunately quality depends on the availability of super ingredients, but in the Savoie this is not unlikely. Local Comte cheese, Jambon cru with a bit of salad and celeriac remoulade between fresh seedy bread, eaten on a rock in the sun with a view of Mont Blanc.

Good Friday: Leila's

I hate packing. There are much better things I can do with a few hours, so on the day before I went away on holiday I managed to speed up the process in order to go out in the rain to meet H for a long-awaited catch up meal. I emerged from Old Street underground into the grey and walked to Franze & Evans where I waited until H approached on her bicycle. The grave news which she soon learned on arriving was that Nicholas - the owner of this Italian deli/lunch spot H had been meaning to share with me - had selfishly shut up shop for the bank holiday, probably in order to holiday himself.

No worry, as we strolled around the corner to Arnold Circus as the clouds began to part. Inability to lunch at F&E had proved lucky for us as it meant we were able to try Leila's, a small cafe and grocer on the corner of the square. I suppose this is really the aim of their design, but it really was like entering into someone's kitchen. There are old-fashioned cookers and a wooden drying-rack at the back, with wooden tables in front, nicely close but not so you have to make friends with the whole cafe.

The food on offer is chalked up on a board as a short list. If I remember, this includes breakfasty things like porridge/muesli, fried eggs with either ham or sage, a few classic sounding sandwiches, and a 'Polish platter', which was what we opted for after much deliberation. It arrived on a wooden board, as pictured, with a mixture of cured meats and sausage, a boiled egg, pickles and rye bread. The highlight I think was the home-made horseradishes, one of which was dyed a beautiful pink with beetroot and tasted fantastic on the seedy bread with a piece of ham. Gladly we had enough room for a slab of ginger cake: enough for two was simply cut from the tray and given to us with a knife. This was perfectly sticky and went well with what I assume was freshly pressed apple juice. The 'small milky' coffee I had was smooth and delicious, although I knew it would be having the barista Jack's coffee before.

Everything here has been chosen with utmost attention: Le Creuset pans for the eggs to be served in, Opinel knives, etc. etc. Some might note this as pretentious and inauthentic, since if you choose your oven on looks, you might not get the best results. I didn't find it so - there is so little they are cooking here anyway. It added to the homely feel and made it a place to sit for hours sipping juice. We left after buying a few blood oranges from their grocer, and as we stepped out the sky was blue.

Leila's Shop

17 Calvert Avenue

London E2 7JP

Bonsai, Edinburgh

At the end of a very busy few weeks, as two exhausted hungry girls, J and I had decided on sushi lunch as a celebratory meal. Unfortunately, despite normal expectations of this time of year, the ferocious wind and drizzle prevented us from lounging in the Meadows with a take-away bento box, so we headed to Bonsai. This Japanese 'bistro', as it calls itself, is nicely tucked away from the bustle of Nicolson Street with its throngs of charity-shop goers and queues for the bus.

We hurried inside and were kindly greeted into a small, quiet space with mostly booth-style tables for two to four. We had time to settle in and relish the occasion of a luxuriously unhurried lunch, chatting and making future lunch plans for the free time of Easter holiday. Our waiter knelt beside us to take our order, explaining unfamiliar dishes and helping us to choose. Although not Japanese, he seemed to know what he was talking about and their specials board indicated a range far from standard fare.

We opted for a Rainbow Roll (salmon/tuna/cucumber) which was beautifully presented and probably the most classic of all our dishes. Of the specials, we chose tempura roast eel sushi roll - the best of both crispy tempura and sticky eel nigiri which went down well. From the teppanyaki menu, Takoyaki octopus dumplings were a little disappointing, only because mayo and a barbeque-y dipping sauce made them taste less fresh than other offerings - they had the appearance of mini scotch eggs but had a gooey interior. A brothy soy soup with pork gyoza was a warming addition to this, and with two fat dumplings was still perfect for sharing. As we had hoped, after this our stomachs still had room to try one more thing so we ordered another special - crispy salmon skin and avocado maki. Many times have I made the mistake of over-estimating my appetite, but this was not one. This was the perfect end to the meal and since it is not on the permanent menu I am glad we took the risk.

For two girls, this sounds like a lot of food but it was all (save the mayo and bbq sauce) light and we both felt satisfyingly filled until around about dinner time. I wonder if I ate sushi for every meal whether I would genuinely not feel hungry throughout the day, or whether it was because of this immensely enjoyable lunch that I did not think about any other food until it was quite necessary.

9/10
Bonsai
46 West Richmond Street
Edinburgh