London's best breakfast? Join the club

The Breakfast Club, 31 Camden Passage, N1 8EA
The Breakfast Club, 2 - 4 Rufus Street, N1 6PE
Breakfast for two with cocktails: £30

Despite growing up in a country responsible for one of the world's best breakfasts, my younger self often longed for the sort of breakfast we ate on family holidays in South Africa. French toast with syrup was the firm favourite - an exotic concept for my fledgling palate, which seemed infinitely superior to our prosaic eggy bread. However, it wasn't so much the food that enticed me, more the possibility of going out to a stylish, non-greasy place for our first meal of the day. 

While we may lead the world at frying eggs and serving them on grubby plastic tables, most of us fine English folk can probably still remember a time when a nice breakfast or brunch was hard to come by, save in hotels. Until relatively recently, one would have been forced to conclude that whilst we still excel at the fry up, our breakfast culture lacks some the sunny finesse of the antipodeans, South Africans and Americans. However, two happy meals at the Breakfast Clubs in Islington and Hoxton reminded me that there are more and more of these fabulous breakfast places opening in the capital. Their varied menus and excellent coffee could even give our faithful old artery clogger a run for its money, unless it is made by the Regency, of course.

Trullo: simplicity as a virtue

Trullo, 300-302 St Paul's Rd, N1 2LH

In the past, I have always found Italian restaurants in London a little disappointing. With the exception of some fine pizzerias, my last two visits to Italian eateries in London have been underwhelming; leaving me with a creeping suspicion that perhaps I just don't fully appreciate the understated virtues of Italian cooking: a reaction at odds with my fond memories of simple but brilliant meals in Italy. This may explain why it has taken me more than a year to find my way to Trullo, despite its Islington location being mere moments from my Dalston haunts. If only I had ventured there sooner, I wouldn't have spent the last year wondering when I stopped loving Italian food. I would have spent it in Trullo.

Haché: five years too late

Haché, 24 Inverness Street, NW1 7HJ

That things change is an irrefutable facet of existence. Sometimes frightening, usually unsettling; it is frequently-observed fact of life that almost nothing remains constant. However, there is one aspect of my life where time has done only good things: the evolution of the British burger. 

Longer-term residents of our fair isle will recall the dark days when the choice between McDonald's and Burger King was the only real decision required when dining on burgers. It is unsurprising, therefore, that the advent of Gourmet Burger Kitchen and their ilk - who made meddling with the humble burger into a multiple-outlet mega-success, was largely welcomed by a populace starved of variety. However, is anyone really sad that the intervening years have seen a growing maturity in our attitude to burgers, as we realise that something simple, made with top ingredients, is an infinitely superior choice? The folks at Haché must be, for in their world it is 2005, they are the best burger place in the city and variety still reigns supreme. Shame it's 2011, chaps.

How I stopped worrying and learnt to love the voucher

Zigni House, 330 Essex Rd, N1 3PB

Saving money is a faintly aspirational activity in the Fork household. Although we regard it as a laudable pursuit, it is invariably sidelined in favour of new cookbooks, the latest first-person shooter and meals out. My wallet is the envy of my waistline. However, even I have been affected by the money-saving mania that has been sweeping the capital: the internet voucher phenomenon. 

Usually, I behave just as the money saving profiteers expect you to: by signing up for the special offer and then promptly forgetting to take advantage of it. I know this about myself and usually abstain from all deal-based activities. However, a dear friend now works for one of the more successful voucher merchants and convinced me to give it a go. True to form, I found myself with a wealth of food-based vouchers and no plans to use them. Fully aware of this, Mr F suggested a deal-funded date night to ensure we cashed in at least two of the printed vouchers that had started to clutter the house. First stop: half price cocktails at Viajante.

Spain forgiven

Morito, 32 Exmouth Market, EC1R 4QL

Meal for two with beers: £60

When your family is spread across two continents, one of the most frustrating things that can happen to you is Christmas transport fail. For example, the childhood family Christmas punctuated by 24 hours in Abidjan waiting for a plane that could manage the rather crucial process of leaving the ground. When said transport fail is not your fault nor the act of a weather god or technical gremlin but is, instead, the direct result of airline incompetence, it is all the more difficult to stomach. 

A pox, therefore, on Iberia and all her agents of disappointment whose ill-judged overbooking and abysmal customer service saw me wandering round Barajas airport in the early hours of Christmas Eve searching for someone who could fix Christmas. Doom-laden times in the Fork household. However, whilst nothing can ever match up to a sunny Christmas with family, their incompetence meant I spent Christmas with Mr F and left me with a nice little pot of compensation courtesy of EU law - thank you Brussels. Unfortunately, it also left me vowing never to return to Madrid, scene of so much trauma. Which is a shame because it is actually a truly wonderful place, home to the magnificent Museos del Jamon. I knew I had to fight this feeling the only way I could: with tapas.

A woman in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a burger

Byron, 341 Upper Street, N1 0PB 

The Diner, 21 Essex Road, N1 2SA

Like many Londoners, I seem to have been overcome by the desire to find the "perfect burger". For me, this largely involves compiling a mental list of the things a good burger must include and then comparing each new burger experience against this imaginary burger-benchmark. Eating a burger has, therefore, become a slightly more analytical experience than perhaps it should be. I find myself scrutinising the bun (is it going to fall apart?), the cheese (no Monterey Jack, how could you?) and, of course, the meat (not even remotely pink, you swine!). However, if I am honest, when I go for a burger, I don't necessarily want a high-class gourmet experience. I am more likely to go somewhere local that serves decent beer than trek across town to find absolute burger perfection. So, this post is not about the best burger, it is about the two places that, between them, are making pretty good money from my desire to eat grilled meat, bread and cheese.

Geometric Hatt clams

S J Hatt, 88-90 Essex Road, N1 8LU

The Geometry of Pasta, Jacob Kenedy and Caz Hildebrand, Boxtree

Craving mussels and having established that October definitely has an "r" in it, I went to Steve Hatt's fishmongers in search of seafood. Unfortunately, I left it too late and the mussels had all been sold by the time we arrived. They had clams though: beautiful, speckled palourde clams.

Japanese delights in Mornington Crescent

Asakusa, 265 Eversholt Street, NW1 1BA

Meal for four hungry people with beers: £115 (ish)

Just north of Euston but a few streets shy of Camden, Asakusa has the qualities of a hidden gem, although in reality it has a well-established and loyal following. After our first visit, we found ourselves agreeing with the diverse crowd of locals, trendy types and Japanese ex-pats - Asakusa is well worth searching out.

Asakusa has a cosy, if slightly scruffy, charm.  The setting is evocative of a somewhat less salubrious izakaya - think old Japanese posters and tiny bar at the back. It is absolutely tiny but friendly service and a lively atmosphere mean that the proximity of your neighbours is part of the experience; and provided us with a helpful preview of the contents of the extensive menu as they arrived next door.

Variety is a virtue at Asakusa and the menu encompasses the full range of Japanese casual dining.  We chose to exploit this by ordering extensively. Purely for research purposes, naturally.   We ordered so well that our waitress raised an eyebrow and questioned whether it was, in fact, too much.  Never.

Scallop sashimi, though delicate and light, was outshone by divine buttery yellowtail. Kabayaki eel was excellent - the sticky sweet sauce balanced well against the pleasantly gelatinous texture of the fish. We tried two grilled dishes, some predictably good yakitori and, for the slightly more innard-inclined, grilled chicken hearts.  The slightly chewy texture and mildly offaly taste of the chicken hearts even enticed the anti-insides members of the party to try and agree that they were delicious. A deep-fried softshell crab appeared, hot and crispy with the squidgy insides just starting to ooze out.  That disappeared as quickly as it arrived. Thin slices of very rare beef, reminiscent of carpaccio, with tiny mounds of ginger and garlic was equally well received; as was tender, gingery beef shogayaki.  However, it was the slow-cooked pork belly from the nimono section of the menu that won the prize of the evening. The pork melted into tender fatty strands, coated in a savoury sauce of mirin, soy and porky goodness that had been spiked with a dab of mustard.  The sauce was so good, what remained when the pork had been devoured was surreptitiously tipped into the rice when that arrived.

Alongside all of this, the basic dishes on offer at Asakusa are also worthy of mention - in particular, their use of dashi.  Both the agedashi tofu and the miso soup had the deeply satisfying, umami-rich savouriness that comes from good stock. The team at Asakusa deserve credit for not ignoring these essential elements of good Japanese cooking.  And so to the only low point of the meal: the pickles.  They were just a bit underwhelming alongside the otherwise brilliant dishes we tried.  Not quite sour enough and with insufficient bite to complement the other dishes.  

Overall, the food was satisfying and tasty, the beer cold and the service relaxed and friendly.  Waiting in the hallway, another diner asked me if this was my first time at Asakusa.  When I said that it was and that I was enjoying it, she assured me that I would be back.  I think she was right.