What the critics say: Redhook, Polpetto…

13th September 2010, 10:25am

A round-up of the latest reviews

Redhook, Clerkenwell
Zoe Williams, The Telegraph, 13 September

"I started with the steak tartare (mustard, cornichons, capers, quail's egg, £10). When this works it works in such a peculiar, elemental way – the chewiness of the meat against the slick of an egg yolk, the tang of vinegar sharpening up the blunt fact of its rawness. It's delicious, and it makes me want to fall upon it with my bare hands. M had the walnut and gorgonzola tortellini (£7), which she loved. It was a beautiful plate, I must say, like a vegetable Miss World (broad beans, radicchio, lemon zest, all very fresh and lively)."

"The pasta had plenty of bite, the cheese and the walnuts did that salt/anti-salt thing that they do, which is what has made the combination a marriage, rather than a fling. I was surprised that she'd ordered it, since she doesn't like pasta. 'I don't like domestic pasta,' she corrected. 'This is perfect.' I think she means that people overcook it, unless they're chefs. But surely that was in the 1980s?"

Tinello, London
James Hanning, The Telegraph, 12 September

"Our starters are an announcement that not only does this guy know what he is doing, he knows he knows what he is doing. My friend has antipasti: finocchiona (fennel salami) with a bit of pecorino di Pienza cheese; figs (perfectly ripe) with Parma ham; the ubiquitous chicken-liver crostini; and onions pickled in balsamic vinegar. Each provokes gasps of "You must try this," and I duly gasp in agreement. 

"I have three of what the menu calls "small eats", each for £2.50 or less and designed to share. The slender strands of zucchini fritti, which might sound like the gimmick of some up-himself pretender, are a marvel. The burrata (curd cheese), with soggy, tomatoey bread, leaves you guiltily wanting more and the panzanella bread salad, always a subjective matter, is perfect. Again, here is a confident chef wanting to please, and he does."

Polpetto, London
John Walsh, The Independent, 11 September

"Polpo, the no-reservations Italian tapas bar that opened in Soho a year ago, has been a big success. The dark, slightly dingy bar area always seems to be crammed with sneerily trendy chaps and amazingly pretty girls from the Regent Street shops and magazine HQs, even though the wine list is tiny and the food rather routine. It's so achingly on-trend that my eldest daughter asked to be taken there for her 23rd birthday."

"The menu arrives on recycled ochre paper, its contents as stripped-back as the furnishings. Some dishes get one word (Polpetti, Panzanella), some a loquacious two (Piazzeta Bianca, Zucchini Fries), some even more. Instead of starters, there are Cicheti (tiny bites, like canapés) and "Breads", but the breads cost as much as the meat and fish courses. Were they all tapas? "We're not supposed to say the T-word," said our charming waiter, Olly, "but that's the general idea." So my friend Madeleine and I ordered four teeny starters and two main courses each. (And a half-litre carafe of white wine, to be drunk from tiny Lilliputian glasses.)"

Jali, Blackpool
Jay Rayner, The Observer, 12 September

"Of the mains the best was a lamb keema boti masala, the minced lamb cooked to a point where it had become just a part of the sauce, in which long-braised bits of meat bobbed and settled. What could be better for a man who likes his dinner to once have had a pulse? Funnily enough, the dark, buttery dal makhani, a hymn in praise of the lentil, which had such a powerful aroma I didn't know whether to eat it or dab it behind my ears. The lamb bhuna and the chicken lababdar had pronounced but not unwelcome sweet notes.

"So, as ever with food from the Indian subcontinent, the table heaved with a collection of dun-coloured stews, but they were each distinct, toothsome dun-coloured stews. And you didn't feel, halfway through, as one can in an Indian restaurant, smart or otherwise, as though a breeze block was loitering at the bottom of your stomach, waiting for the moment to enact its revenge. Poppadoms were fresh and crisp, as you would expect of a restaurant that holds the world record for the tallest static poppadom tower. That's 282, since you asked. Service was sweet and prices, at around £5 for a starter and £9 for a main, entirely reasonable."

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