Daniel Lea's Qype profile

‘The Premises’ is comprised of two recording studios, a host of rehearsal studios, storage lock-ups, and a cafe out front (a business unto it’s own and listed separately in the directories). Putting the recording facilities to one side (we’ve never used them and so can’t really comment) the rehearsal studios are most definitely the key feature of this complex.

Varying in size from ‘small’ rooms easily capable of accommodating a five-piece band and their sound, to gargantuan (by London standards) studios with dance-floor and stage areas, these spaces will set you back £12-£14 per hour (inc. VAT), assuming you’ve paid the nominal £10 annual membership fee. This does not however include hire of back-line, the costs of which add up remarkably quickly. Regulars will generally be hiring a lock-up for their equipment at a very reasonable monthly charge, but availability at any point in time is far from guaranteed.

Organised into three four-hour slots each day, evening slots are hard to come by at short notice, most being taken a month or so in advance (honestly, how many bands can get all their members together on a week day afternoon?). But why are people this eager to part with their hard-earned cash for what is essentially a room without the cranky neighbours? Well, let’s start with the impressive Mackie Active PA Speakers and wedge monitors. Add to that a decent stab at sonic damping and sound-proofing, a neat and tidy building with air-conditioning in every studio, a lift (oooh), and helpful staff and you start to see the attraction - the cafe is just a bonus! Some garage band members may also reel at the lack of damp musk, but if you just can’t practise without it, they do have one room that’ll suit. You might notice the management touting their solar-powered ‘green studio’ credentials, though I rarely see it generating much more power than is consumed by my bass amp, let alone the whole studio.

For those who like to name-drop (like myself), this place does see it’s fair share of famous clients. I’ve seen/heard the likes of The Klaxons, Unkle, James, and even Courtenay Love (ARGH!) rehearse here. Also Cass (former Skunk Anansie bassist) can often be seen in the hallways, though I’ve never asked him what he’s actually doing there; just loitering I suspect.

The Bento Cafe has had something of a renaissance since I first ventured in a few years ago. Originally a rather cheap and cheerful Japanese eatery (they still do discounted bentos between noon and 4pm), the restaurant now exudes style and finesse. The term ‘trendy’ can be applied equally to the food as to the interior design - I’ve even seen Zane Lowe’s smug face walk through the door without even a hint of self-degradation. Of course the prices have taken a step in the same direction (it’s small, it’s popular, and it’s right by Camden Town tube), but they’re far from prohibitive, and the dishes themselves have most certainly been taken up a gear.

The more observant will note that the majority of the staff are not Japanese, and the food’s apparent acquisition of flavours and spice from all over the Far East is likely not incidental, but it does tailor the cuisine more towards the western palette. The mainstays of Japanese nourishment are still here, but it is the glitz of the menu that entices. Servings are adequate rather than ample, but the intensity of the ingredients forces this issue firmly to one side.

As a rule, providing you’re not eating on a shoestring budget, the Bento Cafe can’t really fail to impress. So why only four stars? I’m putting it down to snobbery.

If one afternoon you’re in Chinatown on the prowl for some delectable Dim Sum, you’ll be hard-pressed to trump the Golden Dragon. Dishes are moderately priced and you certainly won’t be doing your taste buds a disservice. Must-tries include the prawn rice noodle rolls, lotus leaf-wrapped glutinous rice and their mini egg-custards (a sweet alternative to the British nutmeg-laced treats). Be aware however that the staff have a tendency to impose a minimum dish order not levied against linguistically able compatriots. Still, the main menu has much to offer also, and will appear much less daunting if accompanied by an aficionado of Cantonese cuisine. As with most high quality Chinese restaurants, sharing is the key to a rounded meal, particularly given the generous portions afforded for main dishes here.

The ambiance encapsulates the fervent collective, both large dining areas ornate and joyous in their decoration, typical of the nation’s favoured depiction of prosperity. The service is efficient without being overly boisterous, but do note that as much as they would like you to believe otherwise, the bill summary does include a standard service charge (you can always check the total against the detailed list, albeit written in Chinese).

The highest accolade I can bestow upon this restaurant is the simple fact that the three generations of my girlfriend’s family (originally from Hong Kong, and including a retired chef), have selected this as their Central London point of convergence. Evidence enough to give the place a chance? Well you know my answer to that…

Asakusa is a traditional, authentic, family-run Japanese restaurant lying on the quiet side of Mornington Crescent station. Mind you, this concealment from the hordes of Camden-goers is largely immaterial, given the ageing, drab facade of the restaurant’s exterior, and by the very fact that it is invariably busy, chock-full of Japanese, locals, and food-lovers in the know.

Phone up to book and you’ll be greeted with “浅草レストラントです！” (Asakusa resutoranto desu!), likely followed shortly by “I’m afraid we already have a lot of bookings tonight…”, such is the demand for this little piece of Tokyo removed. Open only in the evening, six days a week (and closed for holidays - national and family) there is generally space for those able to arrive soon after opening (around 6pm), and of course you can book days in advance for certain availability.

The restaurant consists of three small areas: The main dining area hosts the fortunate guests, and near the kitchen there is a sushi bar, behind which the sushi chef (sometimes assisted by an extra pair of hands) is worked non-stop in order to satisfy the throng’s substantial appetite. The modest decor of warm colours and dark wood make for a cosy environment, the walls adorned with posters advertising Asahi lager, oriental bric-a-brac, and most prominently, menu items written exclusively in Japanese. Thankfully, those not appearing on the standard menu have recently been translated onto an extra sheet for the more adventurous (chicken gizzard skewers anyone?). Operations are managed from inside a curious brightly-lit ‘hut’ with quaint clay roof-tiling, adding charm to a simple layout. You may however find yourself situated downstairs, alongside an antiquated (and thankfully inactive) tape karaoke system. More canteen-like in appearance, oft cold and suspiciously damp, there you’ll have to trust that the food will take your mind off the surroundings.

And herein lies the draw - traditional, simple cuisine done extremely well. You won’t find cutting-edge culinary flare, but choose wisely and you’ll wonder if the world of oriental food really needs any more than that with which it is already endowed. Meat is prepared beautifully, sauces are bold and flavoursome, and dished are well portioned, allowing you to balance your meal with an array of sides (one good reason to make it a social visit). A standard set dish of beef teriyaki or chicken shogayaki and some sushi is a perfectly tasty way to fill your stomach, but why not try their buta kakuni (simmered belly-pork in a special sauce) with rice, nasu dengaku (deep-fried aubergine topped with a sweet miso paste), and tem zaru soba (assorted tempura with cold noodles and a dipping sauce)? If you’re not sharing then you’re answer will probably be “Because I cannot leave without having some of their excellent sushi!”, and few people would argue with that. If you fancy an interesting collective experience try ordering a hot-pot (say a sukiyaki or the Asakusa special) and huddle around the burner, though for this you may need to order in advance.

Now comes the bit you really didn’t expect. This food comes at prices that are more fitting of Misato than Mitsukoshi, and remember the green tea is free! The Japanese waitresses are always polite, if sometimes run off their feet, and at peak times you can expect to wait a while for sushi orders while the chef clears the backlog. Still, all things considered, is there any wonder?