Recently in Restaurants Category

I promised a few weeks ago that I would go to the Maple Leaf pub in Covent Garden and tell you about their poutine - here's my overdue report:

First of all, the pub itself ticks all the boxes: stuffed bear, faux-logs on the wall, hockey jerseys, etc... This gives a Canadian-themed vibe, instead of being an actual Canadian pub. That said, I'm not sure I can ask any more of a watering hole in the middle of Covent Garden, London. The guy who served my beer sounded Canadian, as did many of the patrons. Surely that's good enough?

We arrived at roughly 8pm on a Wednesday evening and had to hang around the bar a bit waiting for a table to open up. I was surprised at how busy it was, considering it wasn't yet Canada Day. They had Sleeman's on tap, and bottles of Moosehead. They also had British standards such as cider, Pimm's, and a few British lagers.

Food-wise, T and I each ordered poutine (in honour of Saint-Jean-Baptiste) and a plate of buffalo wings to share.  First impressions were good, the buffalo wings were very meaty and covered in a delicious sauce. We polished these off quite quickly. My only gripe was the lack of wet wipes left us with sticky fingers.

Then: the poutines. First impressions were good. The menu specified that it included a beef gravy (not onion, thank goodness!). All the component parts were present: the french fries, the gravy and the cheese. Unfortunately the sum was not greater than the parts. The fries were passable, but nothing to write home about. The cheese was chunks of mozzarella (my guess) and not the squeaky cheese curds of real poutine. The gravy was acceptable and would do the job with a Sunday roast or bangers and mash, but was a bit bland in this context.

If I had never had poutine before it would have been passable, but not much more. I would wonder what all the fuss was about; why people tend to rave about poutine. The British regularly have chips and gravy, and chips and cheese. This is just the combination of the two. It's fine, even tasty, but not extraordinary. I would be content with the Maple Leaf's poutine as decent pub food, but knowing that it can be so much more left me disappointed.

Perhaps 'real' greater-than-the-sum-of-its-parts poutine can only come from Québec? Does it takes Québécois passion, a true pure-laine Habs-loving Pepsi-drinking Labatt-swilling fire in the belly to serve a beautiful plate of chips, cheese and gravy that we can really, proudly, call poutine? I'm just not sure. I do know, however, that despite its best efforts, the Maple Leaf did not measure up.

Perhaps I should give it another chance and focus on anglo-Canadian specialities like grilled cheese sandwiches, or corned beef and leave québécois dishes alone. I'm very glad they didn't even attempt the Montreal smoked meat sandwich, or the Saint-Viateur bagel - some things are better left to the professionals.

Bottom Line: Would I go there again? Yes. I've heard they broadcast NHL games and would love to find out if they show the Habs, not just Toronto. They have a big-screen and show lots of North American sporting events. I really did enjoy the buffalo wings which gives me hope for the rest of their menu. I would recommend it for a pint of Sleeman's in a relaxed, fun atmosphere in Covent Garden, but don't go out of your way for it. If you want real poutine, however, you're going to have to book a flight to La Belle Province.

The Maple Leaf Pub
41 Maiden Lane,
London, WC2E 7LJ
Tube: Covent Garden, Leicester Square, Charing Cross
 
   

Tomorrow is June 24th. This may be just another day to most of the world's population, but to Quebecers, it means P-A-R-T-Y!

June 24th is known as Saint-Jean-Baptiste day, or la fête nationale du Québec. It's essentially Quebec's national holiday. It's a day off work usually filled with bbq, beer, Québécois music and, if you're lucky, a friend's lakeside cottage.

But what if you're a Québécoise in hostile territory?  I have no one around to share a Labatt bleue with, and no bbq to throw a steak on. Who else will walk around with a fleur de lys on their cheek?

Last year I decided to make my own poutine. It wasn't bad, but wasn't great. The lack of cheese curds and instant gravy made the results a little disappointing, but I was so desperate for a good poutine that I wolfed it down happily.

Well I have now been in London close to 6 months and have not had poutine in ages! Therefore, T and I have decided to make a pilgrimage to the Maple Leaf in Covent Garden.

Yes, if I was in Québec I would have rocks thrown at me for daring to enter a Canadian-themed pub called The Maple Leaf on this day of Québécois pride - but these are desperate times people! I've already been warned that they use onion gravy and not beef gravy, so my expectations are slightly low, but I'm willing to give it a try.

If you are a fellow Québécois(e) in London tomorrow help me take over the Maple Leaf and turn it into a little piece of Québec for the day. I need reinforcements!

A full report on this so-called poutine later in the week.

The Maple Leaf Pub
41 Maiden Lane,
London, WC2E 7LJ
Tube: Covent Garden, Leicester Square, Charing Cross
 

Question: What do they call in English muffin in England?

Answer: An English muffin.




This particularly fine specimen was on sale Thursday, at Borough Market, by The Flour Station (my bread makers of choice) for £1. I must say it made a mighty fine breakfast.

If you stop by one of the Flour Station locations, make sure to pick up a London bloomer (T's favourite) or a wheatgerm levain for me. And one or two English muffins, of course!

Since moving to London in December, I have been to El Vergel twice. Although, thinking about it, that doesn't seem right. It is a short walk from our flat and serves terrific food for a terrific price. We had hoped to visit again on Good Friday, but our luck went against us and upon arrival we found that they were taking a few well-earned days off. Hungry and now disappointed, we returned home.

T and I are both huge fans of this small neighbourhood joint and I thought that my first restaurant review on this site should be a positive one. El Vergel describes itself as Latin American and Mediterranean. The menu is indeed an interesting combination of both.

The ambiance is fun and boisterous. I find the crowd to be a mixture of American students from the LSE dorms a few blocks away and local Borough hipsters. I'm not sure we fall into either category, but I digress...

You will have to get quite cosy with your neighbours as this tiny restaurant embraces bench-style seating and you will either be sitting at a long picnic table with your fellow diners, or at one of two wall-facing counters.

The long, narrow room has a decidedly rustic feel with its wooden tables and cutlery in tin buckets. But this suits the food which is simple, no-frills and straightforward.

On the first occasion we went for lunch and I ordered a tostada: a crispy tortilla base piled high with shredded chicken, refried beans, cheese, lettuce and guacamole. A generous serving, and all for £3.90. The ingredients all tasted remarkably fresh and the tortilla gave the dish a nice crunch. T had two empanada de carne, for £2.90 a pop, which they cheerfully describe as "oven baked pasties" for the English crowd. While he was disappointed that they were not spicier, he thought they were delicious nonetheless.

Two soft drinks were ordered and the bill came up to £11.30 (+tip). A delicious bargain.

While our meals were delicious, we couldn't help but give a little envious sideways glance to the two guys sitting beside us who were tucking into huge plates of food with gusto. To rectify our plate envy, we asked the waitress who told us they had ordered the special latin breakfast which was served all day on Saturdays.

We knew what needed to be done. On our next visit, we both ordered two special latin breakfasts. The plates came quickly and featured scrambled eggs, mild salsa, bacon or chorizo, black beans, "village" bread and tea or coffee. A huge plate for £4.70. I was in love!

We both went for the chorizo option and were not disappointed. The eggs were soft and billowy, the salsa punchy and the chorizo nicely spiced. I love beans of any type and mopped up the black beans using my village bread, a flat, dense disc that I found very filling and satisfying. I opted for the tea which arrived in a nice big mug, whereas T was pleasantly surprised by the quality of his coffee.

Despite everything being so delicious, I couldn't finish my plate. We rolled out, two very full, very happy people for £9.40 plus tip.

My only gripe with El Vergel is the seating arrangements that I briefly mentioned above. On both our visits we sat at the long thin counters against the walls on either side of the room. The counter is just the tiniest amount too high, which makes for a somewhat awkward eating situation. Because of this we tend to eat and run, which perhaps suits the quick turnover style. This is not the place for a long, slow Saturday morning breakfast where you linger over a cup of coffee with the paper. This is in-and-out. It's what they do, and they do it very well.

Bottom Line: Visit, you won't be disappointed.

El Vergel
8 Lant Street, London
SE1 1QR
Tube: Borough

I adore going to eat at restaurants. T and I try to fit a visit in at least once a month. It's not always a big fancy to-do. We've eaten at a variety of places, with wildly different price ranges, food types and décors that I hope to get around to reviewing eventually.

But! I have something I want to get off my chest. Something that has been turning even the most fantastic food events into disappointing, frustrating evenings.

NOTE TO UK RESTAURANTS: When I have finished my meal, after the coffee, tea and desert has been consumed, after you have cleared my plate and duly asked if everything was to my liking, after you've given me an appropriate few minutes to make sure I do not feel rushed, I WANT MY BILL!

It is the weirdest thing. This happens almost every time. T and I have taken to joking about it and taking bets because it has gotten almost ridiculous. No mater how doting the service throughout the whole meal, once our final course is cleared and our table is emptied, we will be left there for an uncomfortable amount of time. All waiters become immediately MIA and there is no chance of getting our bill, or of even asking for it, for a good 15-20 minutes.

I appreciate you not pushing me out the door, in this day and age of less-than-gracious "You have your table for 1.5 hours", it is nice to feel like we can linger and take our time, like we are valued guests in your establishment, but you're giving me too much time. Really. After you've cleared my dessert, and asked if there is anything else I would like, and I say no, please: Just bring me the bill.

Is this a UK thing? A London thing? I don't recall ever noticing it in Canada, maybe it's a European formality? Whatever it is, please cut it out.