Brunch at Freemans

“You’re coming to brunch, right?” She asked.

The London Fox looked up and thought for a moment. He does have a busy weekend and needs to study.

“Because if not, we can no longer be friends. Brunch is the most important meal of the week.”

He pictured the scene: a group of thirty-something ladies occupy a circular table, consoling each other, as if trying to defuse the ticking timebomb that is their youth; a crowd of fratboys and their drapy girlfriends sit around the table in the centre, still profusely downing drinks as though the night before never ended; the couple sat in silence, enjoying the eggs and bacon that they so easily could have made at home but didn’t because they can’t fucking cook.

“Yeah, go on then.”

I guess it’s becoming like this in London now too, but the brunch scene really has been institutionalised here in New York. Everywhere serves the same range of eggs, granola and pancakes. And everywhere has that decrepit, dark interior that is so popular these days. Nonetheless, it’s a good way to see the friends you’ve just seen and talk about the events that occurred a couple of hours ago.

Freemans is one such place located at the end of an alleyway in Nolita (doesn’t get cooler than that) serving a pretty commendable brunch menu. There were a big group of us, so we managed to wangle the private room which was very beautiful.

I had the granola and yoghurt as I already ate a big breakfast and washed it down with a Bloody Mary (not too salty, which I find the Marys here to be usually). They also serve this great artichoke pâté with the table bread.

The granola was great, but my issue is that it seems to taste the same everywhere. I suppose brunch is one of those things that is very samey. fond memories of Nopa in London pop to mind though, which offers something different for brunch dwellers. Nonetheless, Freemans is worth a look, if you’re into the brunch thing.

Freemans
Chrystie & Houston

Burger burger

“Oh my God,” she gasped, eyes rolling to the back of her head. Juices were dripping down the sides of her mouth which she promptly rescued with her middle finger, savouring every last drop. Seductively, she sucked on the finger until the last drop of this elixir was devoured. She returned to her subject, caressing it delicately. With both hands, she teased it back between her lips. Eyes rolling back again she exclaimed, “That is one fine burger”.

I love you, cheeseburger. You tender, juicy, dirty thing. You make me feel so guilty, but you satisfy me like no other. Will you marry me?

The hunt for the best burger in London continues, and my experiences with burgers so far have been mixed. I have certainly not tried every burger in London, but I think I have a decent palate for these naughty little critters.

One mention before I get into the main crux of this entry is GBK. The original “gourmet” burger restaurant, they changed the way we eat burgers – with knives and forks. I remember my first time at GBK – it was good because it was different. Their burgers were okay, but their bread was way too dry – certainly not a contender for London’s best burger. However, working late one night, I decided to order in a GBK (I had a craving) and to my surprise, it was not bad at all. The bread is now a lot softer and everything is less cardboard-y. If I can give an award for most improved burger, it would probably go to GBK.

Whereas GBK was trying to turn burger eating into some sort of gourmet affair, the fashionable way to eat burgers now is in a New York style diner, with your burger greasy and wrapped up. This week, I went to two such joints, Meat Liquor and Honest Burgers. Both do not take bookings – in line with the “casual” eating fad we are seeing more and more right now.

Meat liquor burgers

At the outset, they are completely different. ML prides itself on being dark, brash and grimy (both in terms of décor and food) whilst Honest is clean, rustic and innocent. It’s just as well that I went with the Dirty Dog to Liquor and the Northern Hog to Honest. Both required queuing – ML has a strict policy whereby you must join the end of the queue for the duration of the wait whilst Honest lets you put your name and number down to be called. We waited 45 mins for ML, and 1.5hrs for Honest. Luckily, there are plenty of bars/restaurants in Brixton for a quick bite/drink. With ML though, make sure you have some good company for the queue, otherwise, it can get pretty cold and lonely.

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Honest burgers

Firstly, the burgers. The Honest burger was delicious. I got the signature Honest Burger, Hog went for their daily special. Both were exceptional. Perfectly sculpted into little towers, with each segment nicely cut and arranged, they were easy to manage: not too sloppy, good balance of ingredients and not too thick. It was very similar to the burgers at Bukowski in this respect. Taste-wise they were delectable. They were, however, a little on the small side. One word to describe them would be “dainty”. They were delightful little things, but I didn’t feel much oomph.

In contrast, the ML burger comes out sloppy and sizeable. We had a Dead Hippie Burger and Double Bubble. Both tasted very similar to a Big Mac, but obviously higher quality. Everything was so soft and juicy and the relish was incredible. I certainly did feel the oomph on this one.

Next, the sides. Honest burgers come with a side of rosemary fries. I was not hungry enough to try more (cheeky bite to eat due to the long wait beforehand killed my appetite). They were incredible though. Crispy and soft in all the right places and they had great flavouring.

In ML, we over ordered because I was ravenous. Chilli Cheese Fries and Chicken Wings came on first, and a side of slaw later. They were meals in their own right. I found them all to be over seasoned; the chicken was way too sour which was a bit off putting. The slaw was also some of the worst I’ve ever had. Dry and boring.

Overall, go to ML if you’re feeling naughty, and go to Honest Burgers if you can get a table within 30 mins.

Meat Liquor
W1G 0BA

Honest Burgers
SW9 8PR

Polpo

As you know, the London Fox loves to cook. And the people he cooks for usually love his food. But little do they realise that they are being tricked. The food is by no means always spectacular. Instead, he uses the art of anticipation to please his subjects. After luring his guests in with wine, he makes them wait for a couple of hours so that they are hungry enough to think that the blandest of food is delicious.

The new way to dine in London is to not book, turn up, queue, wait an hour and eat at a ridiculous time. In fact, restaurants that are popping up do not take bookings anymore, encouraging this manner of dining. And when you do sit down to eat, you are so hungry and so filled with anticipation that anything will be a great meal.

I went to Polpo last night, the much hyped frontrunner of this new wave of dining with the Northern Hog. We made a point of going early (18:30) so that we wouldn’t have to be subjected to the deadly queue.

The menu is simple. You pick from a variety of bread, meat, vegetable, meatball and seafood dishes, all very generously portioned. We picked five dishes and a side of focaccia which was more than enough for the two of us.

Big mention to the calve’s liver which was beautifully tender, and the walnut and beetroot salad was a nice refreshing balancing act. The must try dish though were the Polpette meatballs. I won’t say any more, just try them.

The must-try liver

I thoroughly enjoyed Polpo. The setting was casual but not too try hard and the food was…fun. Everything served was presented in a we don’t care if you like it, everyone else here does kind of way.

Cheers Cecilia

Polpo
W1F 9SB