A few more London burgers

Once again, I have neglected my blog. New job, new flat (hopefully), Skyward Sword... The list of distractions is almost endless. However, with January safely dispatched for another year, I find myself with time to reflect on the meals that missed out on a write up. Among them, a mixed bag of burgers. Cue the inevitable round up post, the blog equivalent of the episode of that show you love, compiled almost exclusively from recycled old footage. 

The Poke at the Draft House

In with the new at the Vincent Rooms

The Vincent Rooms, 76 Vincent Square, SW1P 2PD

Two course meal with wine: £25 ish (we split the bill, some people had dessert)

Sometimes, when I want to escape to an imaginary world in which I have won the lottery and can afford a beautiful house in SW1, I go to Vincent Square. It's the perfect place to reflect on just how awesome it would be if I were ludicrously rich. It is quiet, it has a big playing field in the middle and the houses look like the sort of accommodation American film-makers imagine all well-to-do Londoners live in, complete with a Rolls Royce and a butler. Once a year, they even hold the London rum festival in Vincent Square; presumably so the wealthy folk don't have far to roll home. However, until recently, I have been missing out on one of Vincent Square's best attractions: the Vincent Rooms. Attached to the college that trained such luminaries as Jamie Oliver and (ahem) Antony Worrall Thompson, the Vincent Rooms lets one test the abilities of the current batch of chefs-in-waiting, and all at prices a mere mortal can afford. I only wish I had tried it sooner.

Sushi in Soho: Kyoto

Kyoto, 26 Romilly Street, W1D 5AL

Dinner for two (with beer): £50 plus service

It is only the twenty-second of December, but already I feel jaded. It's not a wholly bad feeling, coming as it does from a few weeks of deliberate boozing and eating. However, even the best December sometimes wears thin and an occasional pretence at healthy eating can help to assuage the mince pied excesses of the month. Such was my reasoning when Mr F and I found ourselves in search of supper in Soho. For what could be healthier than sushi?

La Girole, Grenoble

La Girole, 15 Rue du Docteur Mazet, 38000 Grenoble

Dinner for two: 140 euros

Had Mr F not lived there as a child, it is likely I would never have thought to visit Grenoble. It is a long way away, more than six hours from London by train and an hour from Lyon by road. It is a small town, whose few well regarded restaurants are outshone by the gastronomic institutions just down the road in Lyon. However, all parts of France, even its most remote corners, have their own culinary highlights. Located on the edge of the Alps, Grenoble and its environs are bastions of mountain cooking, home of the gratin dauphinoise and an unusual dish of chicken and crayfish. Best of all, there are stunning mountain vistas and challenging walks to stir the appetite for all that cheese.

At home with Hawksmoor

Hawksmoor at Home by Huw Gott, Richard Turner and Will Beckett: Preface Publishing, 13 October 2011

October was a challenging month. Work sucked, I managed to gain half a stone seemingly without a concomitant increase in fun and I struggled to rise to the challenge of making the perfect burger at home, despite having invested in a cranky old mincer that must weigh half a tonne. To top it all, reading about how much fun everyone's was having during the soft opening of the new Hawksmoor didn't helped my rage. However, I can't complain. Whilst I may have missed out on the restaurant opening, the kind people at Random House sent me a copy of Hawksmoor at Home so I could recreate the fun myself. Rock and roll.

What would Hideo Nakata think of the Banana Tree?

The Banana Tree, 103 - 109 Wardour Street, W1F 0UQ

Back when the millennium was still young, Mr F and I went through a phase of watching Asian horror films. The early noughties were a bit of a golden age, particularly for Japanese scary movies, and we revelled in the fear for a couple of years until one fateful night in 2004, when we finally got around to watching Dark Water. We enjoyed the film but I was less than impressed by Mr F's subsequent attempt to frighten me by turning on all the taps in the bathroom and hiding behind the shower curtain. Oh how we laughed at that one... once I'd stopped screaming and trying to batter him to death with the shampoo. 

Our thoughts turned to those happy days when we ate at the Banana Tree last week. Not because the Banana Tree is scary or in some way possessed by a supernatural force - although it would be ace if it was. Rather because we remembered how we felt when we saw our favourite films had fallen victim to the West's need for a Hollywood remake. Yet this wasn't the crushing disappointment of a classic butchered by the upstart newcomers, rather this was something a teensy bit edgy rendered mainstream by a sensitive adaptation. 

The Hand and Flowers: popping my two star cherry

The Hand and Flowers, 126 West Street, Marlow

Every year, the publication of the new Michelin Guide generates congratulations and controversy in the catering industry whilst, at the same time, a crowd of naysayers pop up to point out how the whole system is flawed, antiquated or elitist. Neither reaction has ever really interested me, I can't get excited about stars because I'd so rarely choose to eat in that sort of restaurant. Yet whilst I'm no Michelin apologist, I do see its value - I'm a Bib Gourmand girl. However, the early publication of this year's results did have an impact on my Michelin equilibrium; we had booked the Hand and Flowers for a family meal, inadvertently throwing ourselves in the path of a gastronomic super star. Having never eaten in a Michelin starred restaurant, all of a sudden the Forks were booked at a place with two.