Dip & Flip

It’s all gravy, baby.

Clapham Junction - 30 September 2014

On the hunt for a beefy hit, we washed up in Clapham Junction for a second bite of London’s French-dipping champions Dip & Flip. We’d initially had a taste of the gravy life at Riverside Feast earlier this year and were suitably impressed, so wanted to give them a full appraisal on their own turf.

As testament to their popularity it was crazy busy for a Tuesday evening. We grabbed the last free table, before a period of others queuing out-the-door. The waitress claimed this was an unusual midweek phenomenon, but it was payday. Must be a good sign – even in the otherwise burger-free bleakness of Clapham Junction.

Sadly, the freak nature of the occurrence did mean the staff weren’t ready for it and the service was a bit slow. The worst result being we’d smashed through our incredible Oreo milkshake well before the burgers arrived. A super-thick malty marvel, spiced up with a shot of rum.

When the burgers did arrive, they seemed even bigger than we remembered, a towering beef-hemouth, oozing cheese and gravy with all the sensual swagger of a classic pin up girl. 

It looked dirty. 

The good kind of dirty your mother warned you about. 

Cutting through the thick layer of roast beef was a piece of cake, and the split revealed perfect pink thoughout the patty. And it tasted as good as it looks. 

The soft ground patty and the tender roast beef were both incredibly tasty in and of themselves. 

The gravy adds moisture and just in case you are worried this meat feast is too samey texture-wise, this was dealt with deftly by a liberal dose of mustard and crunchy pickles and slaw. It’s a flipping marvel. And that’s before you even dip it in more of that ridiculous rich meaty gravy, that requires three days of preparation. 

For a side we ordered what used to be called poutine, but is now just chips, cheese, gravy, bacon and chillis. It did exactly what it says on the tin. Boom. Fiery jalapenos. Could stand a couple more sprinklings of bacon, though.

In short, Dip & Flip is on to a winner here. In our view, it’s a London top ten contender. It’s a big beefy beast, and probably the best reason ever to go to Clapham Junction.

Dip & Flip

87 Battersea Rise

London

SW11 1HW

http://www.dipandflip.co.uk/

Sat Bains

Sat-isfaction Guaranteed

Nottingham - 16 September 2014

It was the gf’s birthday. And on such an auspicious occasion, only the finest of dining will suffice. We’d both been impressed by Sat Bains’ chicken muesli dish at Auction Against Hunger earlier this year, so utterly selflessly, I booked us a stay at his self-titled restaurant (with rooms) and we made the trip up to Not-London.

The trip across to the restaurant is not one of Nottingham’s most scenic  (especially if you walk from the station), passing through industrial estates and across a busy dual carriageway. Which makes the quaint farmhouse nature of the restaurant a pleasant surprise. As was the brownie we were presented on arrival – all gooey decadence that boded well for dinner…

It turns out such boding was spot on – what a dinner!

At 10 courses (plus 1, as we added the optional extra course), I can't go into full details on every one or this would soon become the longest blog post ever and I’d run out of superlatives, but 90% of the courses were incredible (100% were made with high levels of skill, however I just don’t like raw mushrooms).

There were two standout dishes, and the first came early on. When you sit down you will be offered the optional extra course – say yes. A Great British Menu winning effort, Sat's take on ham, egg & peas is exceptional modern cooking. A duck egg is poached in a water-bath for two hours, which gives it a creamy, just set, jelly-like wobble with a runny yolk. The ham is of the cured variety; similar to Serrano but locally sourced, and there are textures of peas – garden peas that pop, a refreshing sorbet, and crunchy pea shoots. It was light, fresh and intensely enjoyable.

Our other favourite was the salmon; mouthful-sized chunks, lightly cooked (seemingly sous vide), topped with dill mayo, and sprigs of samphire and dill greenery. The star of this dish however was the broth the salmon sits in. A moreish umami hit, full of flavour. A bowl of the broth alone would have been a satisfying dish, but the soft fatty salmon adds luxury, and the salty samphire accents things beautifully.

Modern techniques dominated the early courses; especially in the mixing of temperatures which keep your senses on their toes, from an unusual horseradish ice cream sandwich amuse bouche to the chicken liver muesli. Inventive and clever.

As was the presentation; for example the first course was scallop 'black'; a fat, perfectly seared scallop with blackened aubergine puree, charred leeks and shallots and squid ink. How much more black could these scallops be? The answer is none, none more black. But there was a lightness of touch in the cooking that allowed the natural scallop sweetness to shine through.

However, it wasn't entirely flawless. We weren't so enthused with aged beef, mushrooms and oyster leaf. As noted, the raw mushrooms didn't do it for me, they were somewhat rubbery and tasteless. And the Sharpe’s Express potato was more of a side dish; a small baked potato with sour cream and cod’s roe. It was a tasty tayto, but nothing to write home about. However, as the gf reasoned at the time, a missed note can make you appreciate the rest of the symphony even more.

There’s more of the classic about the main course, which offered a combination so famous they’ve written songs about it; partridge and pear. The breast and veg – with turnip two ways - were fine (although the meat was so pink that it was slightly underdone for the gf’s taste). But it was the exquisitely rich, iron-y partridge leg ragout and the deeply flavoured jus - the best sauce I’ve had since the Hand & Flowers – which elevated this to a higher ground.

Then we went back to the future for a “crossover” course of miso fudge topped off with passion fruit and tomato. Salt and sweet, tart and umami all at once, it’s a hard thing to explain. Which means it must be witchcraft.

The desserts didn't quite hit the same highs as the savoury selections, and maybe it’s the effects of the wine pairings, but the only memorable one is a pimped-out chocolate aero, flavoured with a mystery ingredient. I don’t want to spoil the surprise, so I will leave the smoke and mirrors intact. It was another unusual flavour, which choked the chocolate; you could smell the fumes coming off the plate. But a few drops of cherry jam added some sharpness, and there was an occasional hit of white pepper for bursts of heat, which I did enjoy.

At the end of our meal the wait staff declined our request to take a photo of us together at our table, lest it disturb the other diners (although they were also too polite to say anything when we were snapping away throughout the meal...). We were instead offered the opportunity to have tour of the kitchen, which was a fascinating insight into the way a top establishment is run. The overriding impression was that the kitchen staff really love working there, and there’s a real sense that this is a team effort from Sat down to the pot-washers, who are all named on list in our room.

It was also intriguing to see that they have cameras fixed on every table in the restaurant relayed to screens in the kitchen, in order to time the production of every course – and it showed with the faultless service. It also means they can, and most probably did, see us licking that jus off the plate after the partridge.

And that (bar a banging breakfast and buttery, gooey, fruity flapjacks "...for the journey...") was the Restaurant Sat Bains with Rooms experience. It was amazing. Lovely place, polished service (including napkin-folding and crumb-sweeping – Mrs. Eating's benchmarks of good service) and tasty, thoughtful food. What more could one ask for? We're still getting misty-eyed about it two months later.

Restaurant Sat Bains

Lenton Lane

Nottingham

NG7 2SA

www.restaurantsatbains.com