mrfrisky's Qype profile

The name “Old Rope” in this case comes from the noose which dangles above the performance area – a night where new material is the order of the day for the random assortment of comedians which make up the ever-changing bill.

The comics can of course opt to use jokes they’ve put into other shows or otherwise know will work, and at that point they grasp hold of the rope to signify that this is what’s going on. It’s definitely not a forum in which to expect a fully polished set, but it’s an excellent (and cheap!) way to see comic talent of all levels in the workshopping phase.

Hosts Tiffany Stevenson and Phil Nichol keep the night moving along and insert tracts of their own material or work-in-progress, and other than those two you never quite know who you might see – previous acts have included Holly Walsh, Andrew Maxwell, Rich Hall, Henning Wehn, Mike Wilmot, Glenn Wool, Paul Foot, Benny Boot, Lenny Henry, Roisin Conaty, Stephen Merchant, Chris Addison, Milton Jones, Pete Firman, Brendon Burns, and usually you’ll get a decent blast of unfocused frustration from the wonderful Robin Ince.

It’s worth re-emphasising – it’s a New Material night, so don’t go expecting a polished show. Quite often it’s fun watching a comic veering away from their material on a new train of thought, or watching them shambolically stumble around trying to re-establish their train of discussion. It doesn’t always work out, but that’s part of the fun. The mood’s positive and forgiving, and makes for a great buzz.

Each week also features a headline act with a full-length set, and the rest of the night can vary wildly depending on how many comedians are about wanting to test out new stuff – one week on Easter Monday there were only a couple of people on the bill but we were treated to a tour-de-force performance by Paul Foot telling a story about a gingerbread house, whereas the pre-christmas night featuring Stephen Merchant as headliner had a bill of 9 comics, so Brendon Burns was allowed to do a 90 second set, and Robin Ince only had time to shout out dot points from his notes.

Always top value for £6. Yes, that’s right – I said £6.

New material night. Set expectations, then sit back & be delighted.

The main reason I know The Phoenix is for the excellent comedy night that takes place there weekly in the basement venue, and running close to time as I often am I often spy the menu and beer selection as I bustle in and leg it down the stairs, thinking “Hmm, that sounds great – I wonder if it’s any good?”.

Well, research so far suggests that running past is the best option. The Phoenix is another one of those ideas that looks good on paper but doesn’t have the right amount of care & attention rubbed on it to actually make it “good”.

The bar promises a good selection of beers, including not-just-generic-lager options Franziskaner, Fruli, Sierra Nevada Pale Ale and Brooklyn Lager. However they must be missing something from their handling procedure because the Sierra Nevada was flat & uninteresting, and the Brooklyn Lager was a shadow of its usual self.

The food service only just made it up to the grade of “lacklustre” – admittedly it was the Christmas rush at work, but we ordered 3 mains and then waited 50 minutes for them: my burger seeming a bit out of place on the burnt bun, and looking like it should be being belted around an ice rink towards a net somewhere.

If you’re not particularly worried about the pub you’re in being of any sort of quality then The Phoenix is a great pick – it’s handy for Oxford Circus, and it’s got a great range of mediocre products to choose from.

A comprehensive back-shelf of pure whisky joy. Whilst the offerings at SMWS might appear daunting to the beginner, the fact it’s a members’ club suggests that there’s a lesser chance the first-time whisky sampler will find themselves plonked in front of the epic selection without anyone to guide them. And if all else fails, the bar staff really know their onions and are happy to make suggestions based on your mood & palate.

In addition to the wall of single-cask whisky, there’s also an excellently formed beer selection, and some grrrrrrrrrrrreat food as well!

Thankfully it’s not all “learn your way as you go” with the whisky – the society also run tutored tastings throughout the year which you can book on to (most are also open to non-members to book), for varying levels of whisky expertise.

Just a quick word of explanation about the spirits: they’re single-cask bottlings, so you won’t see any labels you’d recognise. Each bottle has a unique combination of smell, taste, and finish, and will perhaps conjure up all sorts of personal memories which you might associate with the sensations. It’s lots of fun, especially reading the verbose notes on the bottle and then tasting it and finding “Hey wow, that DOES taste like pickled onion!”, or whatever.

It’s a little quiet in the clubrooms, so it’s not really somewhere to go for a blinding night out, but it’s definitely a nice place to go & meet people for a chat, and to consider a dram or two.

The number 31 is the magic bus that goes everywhere!

Admittedly, it’s a lot more helpful if your usual starting or finishing point is in Camden, but even so it’s definitely a handy radial bus route which will get you across London without having to ride the tube into Zone 1 and back out again.

Starting in Camden Town, it makes its way up through Chalk Farm, along Adelaide Road and across to Swiss Cottage, then over into Kilburn, to Maida Vale, Westbourne Park, through Notting Hill Gate station’s vicinity, then on to Shepherds Bush, and White City.

Not much use for getting to Clapham, of course. But if you live in Camden and you need to get back from a gig at SheBu Empire, then you couldn’t wish for a handier bus.

Two fat ladies!

A handy bus for sneakily getting up to Camden from the Pimlico area if you miss the 24. The 88 is very much a “1st reserve” bus route for this Qyper (it gets you where you need to go, although the mucking about on Portland Place and up via Great Portland Street station lacks the intrigue of the 24’s progress up Tottenham Court Road).

And if your goal is to get south of the river, I’ll concede that the 88’s propensity to go to the great hub of Vauxhall, and onwards down to Clapham Common is of benefit provided you’re not in a vast hurry.

The key with Fire & Stone is that if you’re intending to go there around a traditional mealtime, for heaven’s sake make a booking first. It’s usually pretty busy, and the ad-hoc booking arrangement when you get there is a little confusing (and has lost many customers to the adjacent GBK).

Once you’re in though, you’ll learn the art of originality in the pizza medium. Whilst pizza joints using high-quality fresh ingredients aren’t exactly hard to come by in London nowadays, few exhibit the raw creativity that Fire & Stone demonstrate.

There’s a real joy in ordering something which you don’t normally find on a pizza, and is exactly why the Bombay (tandoori marinated chicken, yoghurt, broccoli, red onion, mango chutney, and so on), the Peking (hoi sin duck, cucumber, spring onions), Jakarta (satay chicken, aubergine, red chilli, tomato chutney) and Melbourne (brie, butternut, red onion, pumpkin seeds) are such amazing taste experiences. Personally I’d advise against the more traditional-looking pizzas, because you’ll just find yourself silently cursing that you hadn’t asked for the duck one after all.

And also – buy the grilled bruschetta. Not negotiable.

We wound up at this restaurant by complete accident – I’d gotten a restaurant tip from a friend for a must-visit Parisian experience, and then totally omitted to copy down the address. In hindsight, it seemed reasonable that there may be more than one restaurant in Paris called Chateaubriand. Guess it never occurred to me at the time.

The process of booking a table via email went quite smoothly and I congratulated myself on pulling off such a gastronometric coup with such short notice, although when we eventually arrived to a completely empty restaurant and said we had a booking the waiter looked around bemusedly at the phalanx of vacant tables, and said “Certainly sir, what name?”.

Thankfully more people started to filter in slowly and by the time we were into our mains there was a cheery buzz in the place. The food was typical French, and incredibly rich, and after a few dismissive waves from the waiter we were set up with a wine which turned out perfectly.

A brief moment of hilarity ensued after mains when I commented to my girlfriend that it was unlike her to have chosen the most expensive starter on the menu, and she retorted that it was Prix Fixe. I suggested that I was pretty sure that it wasn’t, and she said she’d assumed it was because there were no prices on the menu: that didn’t entirely match my experience, and we realised what was going on! SEXIST MENUS! The man pays (obviously), so the lady doesn’t need to see how much anything is. Hilarious.

Overall a smashing meal, even if we were in completely the wrong place to where my friend had tried to send me. Classic.

In the arena of “do only a few things, but do them exceptionally well”, the unassuming Redlands restaurant Moreish has got to be my star find of 2011. We went for the Sunday evening menu, and to find 3 courses that amazing for £21 per person is a bit on the ridiculous side. I’ve paid more than that for a lacklustre main course in other places before…

Small place, very pleasant, slightly quirky but not in your face about it. Great wine list. Good service. Warm sense of bonhomie about the place.

And THE most delightful piece of lamb-based cooking I have ever had. It was like a hockey-puck sized chunk of lamb bits, held together by finely shredded lamb and some kind of lamb-based goo. THREE DIFFERENT TYPES OF MEAT! Amazing.

Now, to think up some excuses to go back there…!

People seem to have varying opinions about the service here, and the authenticity of the place, but to me that’s all totally peripheral to the 2 core points of what makes Dishoom utterly, utterly amazing:

1) Chai
2) BACON NAAN ROLLS

After visiting the seemingly neverending parade of high street coffee chains that claim to offer chai (but actually send you packing with a pint of hot milk with some disgusting syrup stirred into it), or places that’ll try to sell you a cup from gourmet tea bags with the best of intentions, it’s an absolute pleasure to visit somewhere that makes it properly. I’ve no idea what “properly” is, but it seems like they’ve been stirring a cauldron of the stuff out the back for hours, sweetening it up and straining it through cloth at the point of pouring so you don’t wind up with any spice chunks in it. The sort of spiciness that after 3 or 4 sips leaves you wondering if it’s meant to make your face go like that, or if you’re possibly allergic to one of the ingredients. Fantastic stuff!

And the bacon naan rolls. Whoever invented that needs some sort of national recognition. What could be better?! Freshly made naan bread. Chutneys & some indian stuff. And sweeeeet, nourishing bacon. I suppose I can make this admission here among this tiny circle of close friends – Dishoom bacon naan rolls are the only thing I will ever refer to as Indian Street Food, because the second time I ever had one I didn’t realise they’d cut it in half for me, and I dropped half of it on the ground – and it was SO good that I invoked the 3-second rule. Authentic street food indeed.

Oh, I shouldn’t have written this. Now I really, really want one.

A joint venture between someone famed for his passion for high-quality fresh ingredients (Jamie Oliver), and a New York BBQ legend (Adam Perry Lang) – what could possibly go wrong? Well, in my experience, NOTHING!

Barbecoa was a splendid place to visit – right from the moment we set down on the snaking liver-pink bench seats (can you describe furniture as having an “intestinal” motif?) opposite a stunning view of St Paul’s dome, right through to sipping on a glorious Noah’s Mill bourbon. And the message of this place is: MEAT.

Messrs Oliver & Lang have set the kitchen up to use as little electricity as possible, instead making use of wood & charcoal to imbue the excellent butchery with brilliant smoky flavours. A visit’s not cheap mind, although not crippling if you’re careful. Our lunch came to about £70: the bread selection was the most visual dish by far, with the crispy sesame flatbread giving a radar-dish feel to the arrangement. Such tasty, tasty bread. Fans of ribs will enjoy the rib starter too – a surprisingly generous portion, basted in one of Barbecoa’s freshly-produced sauces. Those were some mighty fine ribs, and no mistake.

For mains we enjoyed a superb burger (think Byron, but good), and a lamb chop from the specials board. I’m not someone who rhapsodises about lamb but after tasting this I could suddenly understand why people would.

The wine list is encyclopaedic ranging from “keenly priced” to “frankly, ludicrous” – but the looming cathedral reminds us we’re in the Square Mile, and this sort of thing shouldn’t be surprising. Beer fans will be pleased to see a perfectly formed list of bottled beers (assembled by London’s famed beer writer, Melissa Cole!), and bar manager Dawid Steenkamp’s hand-picked whisky list is a thing of beauty.