A full weekend, punctuated by two contrasting brunches, prompts me to take stock and think about how this key weekend meal sets up the day ahead of it. On Saturday, I went to The Providores and Tapa Room on Marylebone High Street (my local). I followed this up with spending too much money in Selfridges (I have a fetching leather jacket to show for this – part of my early mid-life crisis collection, it sits well with my new car) before enjoying the very free V&A museum in South Kensington. On Sunday, I went to Raoul’s Maida Vale, then watched Arsenal train against Blackburn before wringing an hour of football out of my once-talented legs.
The Providores and Tapa Room, or Prov for those who like to abbreviate and are content at the loss of esotericism, is a fusion restaurant, which has been on Marylebone High Street since the beginning of its renaissance in the early 90’s. I am both intrigued and put off the place by the perennial large queue outside, the inhabitants of which I always think I would rather not share the same breakfast space as. However, as the girlfriend’s sister and husband (sister’s, not girlfriend’s) had done the queuing for us, I couldn’t possibly refuse. The writing of this blog has made me start thinking a lot more critically when I am eating out. This might prove to be a bad thing that precludes my enjoyment of a meal, or it might actually teach me something, so I intend to persevere. And now the food. The menu is a fantastically eclectic journey around the world. I visited Spain and North Africa with my chorizo, rosemary spuds with a soft boiled egg (actually poached) and a sumac (I had always thought this was poisonous) and saffron aioli. The girls went to Turkey for poached eggs, drowned in cream and chilli butter and to I-don't-know-where for their rice, maple syrup and miso porridge, with a very nice tamarillo (or tree tomato to you) compote on top. The most sensible man in the group, who I sense would have ordered the full English had they offered one, went for poached eggs with mushrooms. His choice of sourdough toast was extravagant enough. The individual dishes were all pretty good. Or mine was good. The potatoes and the chorizo worked surprisingly well with the eggs, and reminded me of the only decent thing I have ever eaten in a Mexican restaurant (the ante-cuisine). You couldn't fault the poached eggs and mushrooms. But if you are like me, and you like to try a little bit of everyones just in case someone else's is nicer, then you would have left with a confusion of unknown spices and tree fruits and Turkish butter. Maybe it's my fault. Maybe fusion food is not for sharing. Or maybe we ordered too exotically. Or maybe the whole place is a bit too much. The queue, the flavours. And the fact that I couldn't spread my newspaper out. The Virgin Mary was good though. I think.
On Sunday, we went for a more intimate affair at Raoul's. They of the bright orange eggs and unexpectedly good dinner. There is never that much to say about Raoul's which I think other people might find that interesting. It is a good local canteen. It is not too pricey, it is very laid back. You can always fault one or two things with your meal, like the odd worm in your omelette (they did give it to us for free), or some cold hollandaise sauce (likely to count against them in the great Eggs Benedict Off of 2009/10), or the truly horrendous coffee (reminds me of revising for finals in the Edinburgh library). But they manage to salvage it somewhere. Despite the chilling effect of the hollandaise, the benedict was yum. Her pumpkin soup and side salad was excellent, particularly the parsnip crisps on the side salad which I inconsiderately inhaled. When you combine this with the fact that you can lay your paper out, that the service is snappy and that nobody questions the slightly odd guy next to you brunching alone with his iPod (why does this look weird but reading a paper alone doesn't), you have a place that delivers a dependable and desirable brunch. I think I have come to appreciate this more and more. I like to know what I am getting, even if it is only quite good.
So Fusion and Prov cued a day of shopping and musems, while solid old Raoul's led to solid old Arsenal and a bit of 7-a-side. I am not sure why but the symmetry of this really makes sense.
Mying
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