Restaurant Reviews: Bottom 5 Of The Year

Well, as it is a tradition for lazy journalists I thought I should get involved in the racket and give my list of the crappiest five meals I have had this year.... So here goes:

1. The General Greene in Brooklyn, New York. Given the reviews in the New York Times and NY Mag I was amazed at how they conspired to come up with such a bad meal.

The food was so underwhelming or, at its worst, plain bad that I cannot conceive of how the NYT gave it a good review. The lack of skill in the kitchen and in the conception of the dishes and creation of the menu (i.e. a salad which combines radishes and anchoives) suggests that it was not simply an 'off day' but that this is just a bad restaurant.

If you get very lost, don't heed warnings and do end up there (which is slightly hard if you live in London) stick to the drinks.

2. The Water House off Regents Canal in Hackney. An absolute eco miss. Review above or here. I am still searching for the words to echo its complete and utter failure as a restaurant.

Restaurant Review: Christmas at Number 42 by the Pale Blue Door/ Architecture Foundation

I was nervous before I went here. Was it going to be about the food or about a drag queen serving you food?

The underground restaurant 'scene' in London is about many things, one thing I have unfortunately realised five or six 'supper clubs' in is that good food is not always guaranteed.

The first supper club I went to (Ms Marmite's Underground Restaurant) made me question what all the fuss was about due to the lacklustre cooking. Having read that it was inspired by the paladares in Cuba I probably shouldn't have been surprised as having eaten my way around Cuba 12 years ago I had learnt the hard way that paladares/ underground restaurants can offer disappointment and food poisoning (often together).

It was only the novel experience of mingling with strangers and the slightly illicit sensation that led me to try my second (Lady Gray's tea room). Her great baking spurred me onwards and upwards to try Fernandez and Leluu's brilliant Vietnamese extravaganza. Thereafter there was the slight commerciality of the Savoy Truffle Club (insofar as they run a tight ship which means you get acceptable food but a slightly astringent experience compared to the frivolity of the other supper clubs I have been to) and then well... Christmas at Number 42 done by those behind the Pale Blue Door in Hackney. Oh, and I nearly forgot, Nuno Mendes at the Loft is also meant to be part of this trend but there is something different about a professional chef cooking at home (however, it was hella good).

I hadn't ever been to the Pale Blue Door but I knew it was a set designer's/ drag queen's mash up of a meal. When I saw that they were collaborating with the Architecture Foundation I booked three tickets to go, one of which was for Clair who first lured me to Ms Marmite's earlier in the year and put the whole 'supper club' scene on my radar.

Beyond that I walked into Christmas at Number 42 ignorant and not having listened to Christina Aguilera for an age. That was about to change. The room was a revelation. Normally when people talk about 'rooms' they blather on about decor or some nice wallpaper. This was a pre assembled miniature house. We wiggled our way up to our table, on the second floor, into the kid's bedroom. As we went pass our drag queen for the night (Russella, see http://www.russella.co.uk), resplendent in red, informed us that there was porn under the table (superglued we found out). So far so normal.