Dinner at Le Chateaubriand, Paris

I've just completed a pretty intensive summer programme in France's Loire Valley region near to Paris - no prizes for guessing I was going to chill out in the capital now and explore some new restaurants during this extended weekend break!

First stop, which had been on my wish-list for quite some time now: Le Chateaubriand, a famous gastro-brasserie in the northeastern corner of Paris, far enough from the central tourist traps but very conveniently located just 2 minutes' walk from Goncourt metro station. Not surprisingly perhaps due to his Basque origin, head chef Inaki Aizpitarte, the enfant terrible of the largely conservative Parisian gastronomic scene, has created a niche for himself by serving unconventional and eclectic fare in a casual atmosphere. The setting feels just like a typical French brasserie, yet the cuisine is anything but what one might expect from such a place - no escargots, duck confit, coq au vin, beef bourguignon etc. (you get the idea). In fact, they serve only one tasting menu that changes daily depending on what's good in the markets. At 60 euros per person without wine, it is indeed a pretty good deal by Parisian standards. If any more motivation is needed, this restaurant has also made it to the prestigious St. Pellegrino's list (very unusual for casual places) at No. 15 in 2012 and No. 18 this year. Their website is extremely sparse, which imparts somewhat an air of exclusivity, but at least gives you enough information to make a booking and to find your way there.

There is only one evening service five days a week and the place is quite small, so bookings are essential and are only accepted through telephone 14 days in advance. Walk-ins are possible but you'll have to queue for the second sitting from 9.30pm onwards, if your stomach can wait till that late! On this evening, I witnessed many people trying their luck at a walk-in, but all of them had to be told to come back at 9.30pm or visit one of the many other restaurants on the same street. As for me, I had been offered a seat at the bar two weeks ago as all the tables had been taken within 30 minutes of the opening of the reservation line that day. Of course I'd have preferred a table, but not willing to queue indefinitely from 9.30pm I took the bar seat anyway, which turned out to be a really nice thing as I could observe all the workings of the restaurant from my little corner and even mingle with the walk-in folks who came to queue later in the evening.

Arriving at opening time to a near-empty restaurant,
where the staff were still making preparations for the evening.

One of two seats at the bar which I was lucky enough to get, with
most of the friendly service team who attended to me this evening.
They were a good mix of nationalities, as diverse as the food itself.

Truly no-frills setting - even the wine list is
printed on normal paper which is then roughly
bound together. The only hint of sophistication
is a white napkin, more typical of posh
establishments than of casual brasseries.

Flurry of activity in the small kitchen at the beginning of service.

A friendly Italian waitress came to my seat, handed me the tasting menu (in French only) on a single piece of photocopied paper, and asked me if I would like the courses to be explained in detail now, or if I would allow myself to be 'surprised' first and then to be filled in on the details only after the meal. I don't mind surprises, but the excitement of knowing what's coming appeals to me more, so I asked to be let in on the weird and wonderful details from the very beginning. She was reading off a tatty piece of paper, which I asked to photograph for the purposes of documentation for this blog. As you can probably imagine by now, there are utterly no pretensions in the service in this restaurant.

To start, I was served a succession of amuse-bouches to heighten the sense of anticipation for the meal proper.

Amuse-bouche 1: cheese gougères with black poppy seeds.

Starting off on a really good note, this traditional French appetiser of choux pastry mixed with cheese was delightfully warm. Each ball had a perfectly crisp crust and really fluffy insides, and each bite resulted in an immediate release of wonderful cheesy aromas within the palate. A coating of poppy seeds on each ball added both a nice crunch in texture and a pleasantly nutty sesame-like edge to the flavour.

Amuse bouche 2: raspberry ceviche.

This popular Central/South American dish of marinated raw fish was given a fruity twist here in a tiny sake cup-lookalike. It was probably intended more as an apéritif than as a real dish, insofar as there wasn't actually any seafood, and only the 'marinade' was featured. A single raspberry was left soaking in a spiced citrus and berry juice blend that was unmistakably seasoned with coriander and peppers. The result was incredibly tart, crisp and aromatic, and just this small amount was rather effective in stimulating and cleansing the palate - any more might have had a puckering effect.

Amuse bouche 3: accra with mango powder.

A reference to the popular snack of the Caribbean region, this salt fish fritter (from cod) reminded me very much of an Indian bhaji in taste and texture. The contents were meaty and delicious with a liberal use of herbs and spices, though I would have preferred a crispier crust - a bit more flour in the batter perhaps? The sprinkling was announced as 'mango powder', though strangely enough I couldn't detect any sweetness; it tasted much more like a curry spice mix, not that I was complaining!

Amuse bouche 4: artichoke barigoule with purslane, wakame powder, and a vinagrette of white wine and chicken liver.

This was a refreshing warm dish with a slightly bitter and tart taste. The sheer variety of textures - from the tender and juicy artichokes, to the crunchy and meaty purslane leaves and the rich and creamy dressing - was delightful. The use of seaweed powder and chicken liver imparted a lovely depth of flavour to an otherwise potentially bland salad.

Amuse bouche 5: smoked herring clear soup.

Can't go wrong with this one - very aromatic and tasty indeed, though perhaps it wouldn't be too much to expect something of greater complexity from one of the world's best restaurants? Or maybe even just a slice of herring in addition to that one leaf floating in the soup?

Starter: sautéed squid, blanched and pickled turnips, purslane, cocoa nibs, mussel jus with capers and butter.

I personally found the turnips excessive, a tad too puckering in taste and strangely incongruent with the rest of the dish, but otherwise it was a pretty good dish overall with a lovely surprise to which I'll now come. Cocoa nibs with squid you ask? In small amounts that worked really well actually, with the cocoa's intense bittersweet flavour imparting an appropriate edge to the natural umami of the squid. It was one of those experiences that made you sit up and think, 'Wow, I didn't know that was possible.' The squid itself was very well cooked too - tender and effortless to chew through, unlike the all-too-common rubbery examples which put people off - while the mussel jus enhanced with butter added further flavour and a touch of richness in texture, with mild zing from capers to keep it all in balance.

Fish course: tuna from the Île d'Yeu, baked heritage tomatoes, figs, pimentón (Spanish paprika) and dill sauce with a touch of licorice.

Île d'Yeu: an island just off the Vendée coast of Western France, its two harbours are particularly famous for the fishing of tuna and lobster.

Tomatoes and figs are currently in season in France, and both these produce were put to brilliant use in this dish. The tomatoes were extremely juicy and had an astonishingly deep flavour, very sweet with a smoky edge from the oven baking. The fresh fig slices were equally divine, with a remarkable sweetness and a rich creamy texture. These two ingredients were a lovely pairing for the well-cooked chunk of tuna, which was fresh and flavourful without being excessively fishy, as inferior or mishandled examples tend to be. This chunk was also rather thick, yet remained moist and succulent throughout.

An unexpected and delightful touch was again to be found, this time in the sauce. I was quite puzzled at that time as my waitress had introduced it as a paprika sauce, yet it had a very distinct chorizo taste that brought me right into the realm of Spanish cuisine. Not knowing very much about pimentón and doing some basic online searches as I write this, I found that this very special Spanish variety is dried by smoking, usually with oak wood, hence the distinct smoky aroma and flavour - so I wasn't hallucinating after all! Spanish paprika is also typically milder and sweeter than its more famous Hungarian counterpart, and was definitely the better choice here for complementing the natural flavours of the main components. A touch of dill and licorice added further freshness to this already tasty sauce. All in all, an extremely well conceived dish.

Meat course (main): Secreto Ibérico pork, girolles, celeriac tabbouleh, XO sauce.

Secreto Ibérico: literally 'Iberian secret', this special cut of meat comes from between the shoulder blade and the loin of the prized acorn-fed Iberian black pigs. The meat is typically lean and lightly marbled with fat. This tasty 'secret' is one of the most valuable parts of the pig as quantities are low; only a pair of small pieces may be derived from each large full-grown pig (though not as small as what you see here, I must say!).

Fancy getting XO sauce in a French restaurant! This popular Cantonese condiment (nothing to do with cognac, by the way) usually made of chopped dried seafood (mainly shrimp) cooked in a mixture of chilli, garlic and canola oil was incredibly delicious. If this kitchen did make it from scratch, it was very impressive even to a Chinese person. The only catch: its spiciness and its concentrated shrimp taste overpowered almost every other component on the plate, which was a shame since the meagre slice of pork (which looked more like a rasher of bacon in size and thickness) and few sautéed girolles had truly excellent flavours and aromas of their own. It was a generally enjoyable dish since I'm partial towards the XO sauce, but objectively I couldn't quite tell what the focus of this dish was. I found the pork itself a tad dry and chewy, which was probably due to its leanness, but a kitchen of this rank should do better I think. The 'tabbouleh' topping made of chopped and grilled celeriac with a sprinkling of chives was lovely though, very crunchy with a refreshingly delicate flavour - a welcome relief amidst the surrounding opulence.

Dessert 1: avocado ice cream, frozen sorrel, coriander.

This was a lovely little palate cleanser. The ice cream had a delicate sweetness and a smooth creamy texture, which was effectively balanced by a sorrel granité with a grainy icy texture and a sharp taste. A generous garnish of coriander provided further refreshment with its characteristically strong aroma with bitter citrus overtones.

Dessert 2: 'Tocino del cielo' - egg yolk with a burnt sugar crust, on a caramel choux pastry base surrounded by almond powder.

'Tocino del cielo': a traditional dessert from southern Spain, the name oddly translates to 'bacon from heaven', though no one really knows why. It is very similar to crème caramel in appearance, but there are a couple of differences in the raw ingredients: while the latter is made with whole eggs, milk and cream, tocino del cielo is made only with egg yolks, sugar and water, resulting in a feather-light and extremely smooth custard.

Perfectly runny yolk!

The signature dessert of this restaurant which I've often seen featured in online reviews, this was of course a re-interpretation that looked nothing like the original, though the basic ingredients of egg yolk and sugar were respected. Cracking open the sugar crust revealed a perfectly runny yolk, which is always delightful to watch. The flavours were generally straightforward but effective, with liquid caramel on the pastry base and almond powder as lovely complements - you can't really go wrong with those two! I thought the presentation was rather creative as well.

To end the meal, pieces of white peach garnished with seeds such as sesame, linseed and caraway were offered. I didn't quite understand the rationale for the garnish and personally felt that this was quite a sloppy and unnecessary touch as it actually detracted from the enjoyment of the peach, which was extremely sweet and juicy. It would have been better to leave the fruit alone, or at least offer some closer pairing, if the restaurant felt that that would be too 'simple' to justify its current status.

Some final pictures before I left, as the queue was building up for the unreserved 9.30 pm sitting. Had a pretty good chat with the two couples queuing nearest to me (pictured in the first photo) about other good restaurants in Paris; something to keep in mind for the future definitely!

Can't imagine queuing like this for more than an hour
in colder seasons! This happens everyday, according
to the staff; such is the fame of this restaurant.

This evening's dinner reminded me very much of Radio in Copenhagen (see my review from last December), though I still prefer the latter's food for its greater sophistication, more vivid flavours and underlying deference to the culinary origins of the locality. While Le Chateaubriand is still a good restaurant with a point to make, certain aspects of the food tonight were clearly more style than substance, and didn't always work as well as they should have, even if nothing was truly offensive. Also, while diversity might be the philosophy of this restaurant, I would have liked to sense some sort of fundamental coherence between the dishes on the tasting menu, instead of it coming across as a hodge-podge of random ideas for the day, drawn from arbitrary food cultures. Am I being overly picky? Perhaps, but when a restaurant is rated 18th best in the world alongside its Michelin-starred competitors, it should stand up to such scrutiny, and to be honest I am not entirely sure that Le Chateaubriand deserves its current elevated status. There were surely a couple of kinks to iron out with some of tonight's dishes, which is hardly surprising if the kitchen remains true to its claim of changing the menu daily; as they say practice makes perfect, and that takes time!

Having said that however, and putting all those honours aside and considering only its culinary merits, Le Chateaubriand still offers a very good deal with some genuinely creative ideas in a completely relaxed environment, and is definitely worth a try as an introduction to alternative gastronomy in Paris, without breaking the bank.

The service was generally very friendly, unpretentious and efficient; all staff spoke English and were very willing to accommodate any requests or questions about the food. Admittedly the service could hardly be as personal or attentive as what one might expect from a posher establishment, but it worked just fine within a casual brasserie setting and I wasn't expecting to be waited upon hand and foot anyway, so no complaints there.

Dinner at Le Turon, Tours

I am currently on a summer course in the French town of Tours, and this evening two newfound Japanese friends and I headed out to dinner. Along the pedestrianised Rue Colbert by the main cathedral St. Gatien, where most of the good restaurants are located away from the main square's tourist traps, we stumbled upon this particularly crowded bistro Le Turon, and went in trusting our gut feelings about the place.

The atmosphere is quaint, with ancient walls and timbre ceiling structures still intact. The bistro offers a prix-fixe menu at dinner with ample options for each course, and prices are extremely reasonable, at €21.50 for 2 courses or €27.50 for 3 courses. The cooking is hearty and homely, offering French classics such as foie gras, duck breast, and molten chocolate cake. Service is efficient and no-nonsense, typical of French bistros.

Starter 1: eggs poached in Chinon wine, with a slice of homemade foie gras.

This was a luxurious start to any meal. The homemade foie gras was utterly smooth and creamy with a rich musky flavour. Regional characteristics could be inferred from the generous pool of Chinon wine sauce, made from a full-bodied, tannic and mildly spicy red wine of the Touraine region (somewhat unusual for typically white Loire Valley wines). The soft-poached runny eggs contributed further flavours and a substantial creaminess when mixed together with the excellent sauce. One just couldn't help mopping it all up with the bread provided! All in all, really bold flavours and textures which packed a good punch.

Starter 2: monkfish tartare marinated with chives, lime, passion fruit and ginger, with slices of grapefruit and a passion fruit-ginger reduction.

The raw monkfish was fresh and firm, and the marinade was well-intentioned, but I found the latter overpoweringly acidic - not helped either by the grapefruit and more passion fruit reduction (which itself has a very strong and distinctive flavour)! To the kitchen's credit, chives and ginger were truly lovely touches, contributing delicate aromas and spiciness to enhance the gentle sweet taste of the fish, but the overall flavour balance or fish-condiment proportion could have been better adjusted, I thought.

Starter 3: Homemade terrine of duck foie gras with pear chutney and vanilla.

Similar to but less heavy than the previous foie gras dish, this was deliciously paired with a mildly spicy pear chutney and a touches of high-quality balsamico, sea salt, Espelette pepper and vanilla pod powder. Sweet, sour, salty, spicy and aromatic all at once, working effectively to enhance the rich musky flavour of foie gras. A simple and classic composition of which one never tires.

Main course 1: entrecôte steak with a sauce of farm-churned St. Maure goat's cheese, with roasted potatoes and a broccoli and cumin purée.

The steak was tender and succulent, and its strong flavour was very well complemented by the creamy sauce made from an unpasteurised full-fat goat's cheese of the Touraine region. The roast potatoes and broccoli purée were rather more insipid. The potatoes in particular lacked a certain crispness and fluffiness; they felt somewhat greasy and heavy. On the whole though, the dish was still extremely enjoyable on account of the excellent steak and its sauce.

Main course 2: skewer of duck breast, with apricots and rosemary.

Another excellent meat dish; the duck breast was incredibly tender and juicy, with a rich gamey flavour. This isn't just any ordinary breast meat; in France, only the Mulard breed of ducks are selected for this dish, and they must be force-fed not only to produce foie gras but also to fatten up generally, which makes their breast meat unusually succulent, unlike the dry and fatless meat that we normally associate with this part of an animal. The sauce, made of roasting juices mixed with apricot juice and infused with rosemary, offered another dimension to the duck breast, with the perfect sweet-savoury balance and a fresh pine-like aroma.

Dessert 1: rose wine nectarine soup, with Grand Marnier chantilly cream, cinnamon powder and mint.

A refreshing way to end, with sweet juicy slices of nectarine submerged in a pool of nectarine and rose wine soup, and topped with whipped cream infused with orange liqueur. The extensive use of alcohol in this dessert enhanced the freshness and overall taste of the ingredients while lightening things up significantly, almost like a digestif. Cinnamon powder and a single mint leaf provided further pleasant aromas.

Dessert 2: moelleux au chocolat (chef's recipe) and vanilla ice-cream.

One of the staples of French desserts, this indulgent chocolate cake has a molten chocolate centre that oozes out when you cut into it. The one before me now was extremely intense; having barely made a slit in the fluffy baked layer, viscous chocolatey goodness started gushing out. The chocolate itself had a deep bitter taste and was obviously of high quality. Balancing and complementing the chocolate cake were two sweeter accompaniments; first, vanilla custard to be paired at will with the chocolate cake, then a vanilla ice-cream that was really smooth, creamy and aromatic (nothing beats using real crushed vanilla pods!). Very comforting and satisfying indeed. I think all three of us agreed that this was the best meal we've had since arriving here a week ago.

While Tours might not seem an obvious choice for tourism despite its rich history and proximity to Paris, as the birthplace of standard French pronunciation, as well as the base from which the beautiful Loire Valley may be explored, it is certainly worth a visit - and do drop by this lovely bistro if you are in town!

Say what? Say sushi!

I had a major Japanese food craving today. Not wanting to settle for the usual places around Piccadilly circus, I recalled a close friend's recommendation from a few months ago about an excellent sushi restaurant in Willesden Green, where he used to live. Although I'd forgotten the restaurant's name, a quick search on Tripadvisor singled out Sushi Say. Reading the glowing online reviews, I knew I had to try it at least once despite the distance, and promptly picked up the phone to make a reservation. My hopes for securing a last-minute table in a small restaurant on a Saturday evening weren't too high, but fortunately the lady who picked up the phone was able to offer me an early table at the beginning of the dinner service (6.30 pm), with a return time of 1.5 hours - more than enough time for a simple meal, I thought. The alternative would be to stand in a queue from 8.30 pm onwards, but I definitely wasn't going to starve myself till then!

The restaurant is located just two minutes' walk from Willesden Green tube station on the Jubilee line, and on the border between zones 2 and 3 - the furthest I have ever travelled for food within London! You don't get it much further off the beaten track than that. But who doesn't like a bit of spontaneity at times? In what felt pretty much like a working-class residential area, and on a main street filled mostly with kebab & chip shops and local food & wine stores, the presence of a famous Japanese restaurant could not be more incongruous. The character for 'say' in the restaurant's name actually means 'purity' or 'clarity' - a most fitting metaphor for good sushi, I might say - and would normally be romanised as 'sei', but 'Sushi Say' just looks and sounds so much catchier!

Arriving punctually for my reservation, I was received by the formidable Japanese matriarch whom I recognised as the same lady who took my reservation over the phone. This sushi restaurant is a typical husband-and-wife business, with the husband as sushi chef and the wife as host. A significant proportion of the wait and kitchen staff are also Japanese, which is always a good sign!

Just when I thought things couldn't get much better for a start, the matriarch told one of her workers, a young lady who was not Japanese but who had a very familiar accent, to show me to my table. Turns out she was Malaysian and also a postgrad student on part-time work. She was very warm and friendly, and we chatted a bit about her work here and also about life in London in general. When it came to taking my orders she assured me that I would get the types of fish I wanted on my premium chirashi don (see below), and appeared truly apologetic when I couldn't order some daily specials on the side as they had sold out during lunchtime. Throughout the meal, she also made sure to check that things were going fine as she collected the dishes. Unfortunately, I forgot to ask for her name so that I could credit her specifically in this post. Next time maybe!

A Japanese meal would not be complete without some good green tea; this sencha that I drank with my food was surprisingly mellow and aromatic, with very little of the astringency that comes with inferior tea leaves or overheated hard water in run-of-the-mill Japanese restaurants in London.

And now, on to the food proper. First, the starters:

Buta kakuni (豚の角煮) - braised pork belly in a sauce of dashi, mirin, soy sauce and sugar.

A classic Japanese stew, this fatty pork was tender and succulent, and its rich flavour was enhanced by an extremely tasty sauce with just the right sweet-savoury balance. A touch of mustard provided a mild spicy kick that both stimulated the palate and cut through the richness of this dish effectively. Simple but incredibly moreish, and gone before I knew it!

Nasu dengaku (なす でんがく) - roasted eggplant with a miso glaze.

I've had this traditional Kyoto dish in a couple of Japanese restaurants in London now, and this was by far the best. The problem with most of these restaurants is that they drown the eggplant under a mountain of miso paste, which makes the whole dish incredibly salty and leaves you reaching for the fire hose to quench your thirst thereafter. (In all likelihood the eggplant isn't of fantastic quality either, which explains the copious amounts of miso.)

Not at all a problem here - the miso paste was only used as a light glazing (as they do in Japan), which allowed the naturally sweet taste of the eggplant to shine through and mingle with the deep umami of its glazing. The fleshy and creamy texture of the vegetable imparted a really luxurious mouthfeel, and a sprinkling of sesame seeds completed this picture of understated indulgence with a pleasant bite and a delicate nutty aroma. This deceptively simple dish was perfectly balanced and absolutely delicious.

Now for the pièce de résistance - my main dish for the evening:

Chirashi toku (特上ちらし鮨) - fresh raw seafood on sushi rice including scallop (帆立貝), sea urchin (海胆), yellowtail (はまち), eel (鰻), salmon (鮭), octopus (蛸), sweet shrimp (甘海老), tuna belly (大トロ), sea bream (鯛), seafood sticks, sweet egg custard (玉子), pickles (漬物), simmered mushroom and vegetables (煮物).

Admiring the beautiful lacquered box...

This was a wonderful assortment of premium raw seafood on a bed of seasoned rice, including my favourites eel, sea urchin, and fatty tuna belly (otoro). Everything was fresh and full of flavour. The only reservation I had was about the sea urchin; it had a very salty flavour and somewhat runny texture instead of the sweet creaminess I was expecting, but this could be due to the nature of the waters in which it grew - don't expect everything to be imported from Japan unless you're willing to pay a 3-digit price! I remember being surprised by a similar taste at Noma in Copenhagen and being informed that this could be due to the extreme coldness of Scandinavian waters. The sea urchin was the only item I didn't completely like, though it cannot have been the restaurant's fault.

The accompaniments were surprisingly good; the pickles were not too acidic and had a very juicy crunch, while the simmered vegetables were tender and tasty, with the perfect balance of sweetness and umami in the seasoning sauce. The wasabi was freshly grated (as indicated by its fine fibrous texture) - an expensive endeavour very rare outside Japan - and had a clear but not overpowering spiciness, unlike the cheap eye-watering substitutes made of horseradish, mustard and green food colouring mixed into a paste, which I dislike with a vengeance but which unfortunately seems to be the staple spice in Japanese restaurants all over the world. The rice was slightly warm, aromatic and well seasoned, with well-defined individual grains that were both fluffy and a little sticky in texture, just like how a Japanese person would like it. On the whole, this was very impressive indeed, considering that I was in the middle of nowhere in London!

By now the sweet tooth in me was itching, and I couldn't resist asking for the dessert menu. Somewhat disappointingly, most of the items looked Westernised and/or pre-made in a factory, like what you get if you ask for dessert in a Chinese restaurant here. The one thing that did catch my eye though, and came highly recommended by many online reviewers, was the home made ice cream in a variety of Japanese flavours. I decided to go for 3 scoops - (from left to right) shiso (Japanese perilla leaf), chestnut and white sesame (with black sesame bits).

These were definitely the right choices - where else would you get such authentic flavours encapsulated in rich and creamy balls of indulgence? Except for the presence of small ice crystals in each ice cream - which, for their slight imperfection, showed that they were at least truly made in this kitchen and not uniformly processed in some random factory - they were otherwise faultless. I enjoyed every intensely-flavoured scoop made with real fresh ingredients, from nutty and aromatic sesame, to sweet and earthy chestnut, and finally my favourite, the minty and sweet-sour shiso that was so light and refreshing it almost felt like a sorbet - a great way to cleanse the palate after a sumptuous meal.

It was at this point that the matriarch came over to collect my last plate and to ask how everything went. I took the chance to chat with her and to find out more about this place. According to her they have been operating in this area for 19 years, and attract a regular clientele from all over London - no immediate plans to expand or move to a more central location. She was very pleased when I praised the quality of the fish, but got a bit evasive when asked about their origins - she would only say that her husband (the sushi chef) has 'good eyes' for quality and that he has a trusted circle of suppliers who bring in all sorts of fish and seafood, mostly from around Europe and sometimes also seasonal specialties from Japan. I suppose these are trade secrets you wouldn't want a potential competitor to know!

Sushi counter at the entrance to the restaurant.
Very small space so bookings are essential.

This had been an impromptu evening of excellent and authentic food. The prices are not exactly cheap especially for a location that's so far off the central areas - but I guess that's what you have to contend with seeking out good exotic cuisines in foreign countries! I have no doubt that a more centrally located restaurant would be charging up to twice as much for the same quality of food. Service was efficient but friendly, and I felt unrushed and well taken care of despite my rather brief visit. I know this won't be my last time here!