It is candle-lit and bubbling with conversation, a bold and striking atmosphere, which has drummed up much attention since opening a few months ago.

The food itself is flavoursome and presented creatively, the tacos served in the Mexican equivalent of a toast rack. Despite the wonderful interior and fantastic atmosphere, I couldn’t help but be slightly underwhelmed by the food. It does everything right, but lacks the ‘wow factor’ which would be expected following the hype. It’s not an expensive restaurant per se, a small plate of seared steak tacos costs £6.50, but I know that if I were to venture further afield I could find the same quality for better value.

Having said that, the restaurant and the experience it provides is enough in itself to garner much success and popularity and is a fantastic spot for a Friday night.

2 for 1 happy hour, Friday 5-7, decent drinks. The End.

Under the gaze of hundreds of Rajasthani folk puppets suspended from the ceiling, my companion steps firmly out of her korma comfort zone, and, confronted with a green masala chicken, tucks in with aplomb. So, ‘Thums (sic) Up’- or rather, masala Coke- although the subcontinent’s best-loved branded beverage is missing from the menu, this is Masala Zone’s intriguing home-spun variation- flavoured up with cumin, mint and lime.

The Grand Thali provides a banquet more than adequate for this pair of Memsahibs. Dishes change daily, and come with the diner’s own selection of one curry from the main menu. My Undhiyo Khitchdi is a celebratory Gujerati dish- an awesome collision of purple yam, lentils, aubergine, green banana, sweet potato and snow peas. A procession of katoris- little silver bowls- punctuate our trays with raita, dahl, masala potatoes and a creamy mushroom-based curry. Rounding out the meal are bhajias, chutney and pickle, papadum, salad, tender chappatis and rice.

Rice is the only contentious point. In India, rice is served bountifully and constantly replenished throughout the meal. A good curry dish is known colloquially as a ‘rice-puller’- meaning that just a small amount of the saucy dish is needed to render a whole mound of rice tasty- almost like a condiment. Here in the UK, it seems a universal rule that those proportions are reversed- if I were to tip the contents of just one katori over the rice, those wonderfully fluffy grains would be drowned.

Complaining over the generosity of those lovely dishes is a personal and minor gripe, though. I’m certainly glad for every mouthful. Restaurant co-founder Camelia Panjabi’s book, ’50 Great Curries of India’, is a deserved best-seller, and all the flavours and vibrancy of those recipes have been authentically re-created on the menu. No mean feat for a wallet-friendly, central London venue catering to a fast and furious customer turnover.

We’re offered dessert and, possibly for one of the first times in my life, I have to decline for reasons of comfort. The bill’s a shade over a tenner each. We leave thoroughly sated, relaxed, well-warmed from the spicy fodder and maybe even a touch more cultured- and how often can you say the same for the standard lunchtime fast-food free-for-all?

Just fry some garlic, a chopped onion, some celery, 250g green lentils and a spoonful of ground coriander in two spoonfuls of olive oil for about 5 minutes. Then add 1.2l of chicken stock (or water and a bit more olive oil) and bring to the boil. Simmer for 30 mins.

OKRA bit. We don’t always have okra in our larder but flaked chilli seems to work just as well (and is even quicker). Add a dollop of greek yoghurt, and hey presto, central heating in a bowl.

@MrsMacaroon

Growing up, my mum was not afraid of any cut, and she relishes the fact that she is “the only person in the village who buys skirt from the butcher”. I have early memories of loving steak and kidney pie, even making up a song about it as a toddler, and as I’ve grown older calves liver is the one dish I always request when I go home to my parents’.

I have become engrossed in researching recipes for these delicious, yet obscure cuts and have been disappointed at the lack of a local butcher in my London borough. Thus, many a weekend has been spent bribing my housemate to drive me around west London to find my necessary ingredients. So you can image my delight at the introduction of them at Waitrose!

One of my favourite recipes is Fegato alla Venezia, where calves liver is cut into ‘postage stamp’ sized slices and is pan-fried with slow-cooked sweet, buttery onions. Team it with a dollop of mashed potato, to soak up all of the delicious juices. For those who can’t face the blood, Polpo, Russell Norman’s Venetian style bacaro in Soho, has a lovely version.

I hope the introduction of this new Waitrose range will put some of these more obscure cuts back on the menu, even though they never really went away. They’re economical, flavoursome and, above all, might make us a little more adventurous in the kitchen.

@RoseMcCulls 

Mexican food is my weakness, so when I was asked to check out Café Pacifico, London’s original Mexican cantina, I was running for my Sombrero.

The minute I stepped inside there was a buzz in the air, and rightly so. Looking around the restaurant I felt I had been transported to Mexico itself, the walls were loaded with authentic posters and signs, which my friend noted gave a feeling of being on a movie set, “in one of                                   those restaurant scenes”.

The main lunch menu provided a variety of traditional Mexican dishes, from ‘Quesadillas Especiales’ to ‘Chicken Chilaquiles Verdes’, however I was there for a taste of 1982. In celebration of their 30^th anniversary, Café Pacifico were going retro, with the original menu and prices from their opening year.

For starters we had Nachos, covered with melted cheese, pimientos and jalapeño chiles and guacamole dip with corn chips. For main course I tried chicken tostadas, something I had never sampled before, while my friend had roast beef Enchiladas. The presentation exceeded expectation as did the fantastic flavours.

Sitting back and contemplating my surroundings post-meal I realised people weren’t coming here for the cheap Mexican food fix, not matter how tasty it is, they were coming here to get lost from the daily grind in the fun Mexican atmosphere. Over the 30 years since Cafe Pacifico originally opened in a Banana Warehouse, they have established themselves as a good value mexican experience that’s been popular with Londoners and tourists alike. It truly shows the passion that has been here from the start, as the dishes that graced the opening menu are still well received today along with their now world famous food and drink. As we left, my friend and I were quick to arrange a second escape to Mexico.

Fiona McDonald

Myself and Thailand-loving guest opted for two street food dishes to start, while we discussed the menu and re-lived the merits of a good midnight Pad Thai, served from a shack on the side of the road. Both the Vietnamese Muc Chien (not the French for dog…we hoped) and Malaysian Udang Assam were great choices to whet the appetite.

For mains, we had a Malaysian Mee Gorenge, with surprisingly Indian tasting spices, and Nyonya, which was deliciously fragrant, accompanied by a perfect mound of sticky rice.

After a Thai Banh Chuoi Nuong (a sweet, sticky banana, coconut and caramel cake) and three almost-savoury ice creams flavoured with basil leaf, ginger and star anise, we were suitably full and enjoying the laid back atmosphere and urban, market-style restaurant interior.

It may have not been as busy as it should be for a Friday night, but my Ealing-bred friend assured me it was a welcome new addition to the Broadway.

For the pastry:

125g plain flour

55g butter, chilled and cubed

pinch of sea salt

2-3 tbsps water, ice cold

For the orange chocolate layer:

100g dark chocolate (70% cocoa solids)

1tbsp orange marmalade (smooth)

pinch of sea salt

For the spiced frangipane:

125g butter

125g golden caster sugar

3 eggs

125g ground almonds

contents of 1 The London Tea Company Vanilla Chai teabag

For the meringue:

2 egg whites

75g sugar

1/2 tsp ground cardamom

Preheat the oven to 220C and lightly grease a deep 8″ pie dish.

In a bowl, mix the salt with the flour and add the butter cubes. Rub the fat into the flour until it resembles fine breadcrumbs. Using the tip of a knife, stir in just enough water to bring the pastry together. Gather into a ball, wrap in clingfilm and chill for 30 minutes.

Roll out the chilled pastry to the thickness of a pound coin and use to line the prepared pie dish. Prick the pastry base with a fork, then cover with a piece of greaseproof paper and fill the base with baking beans (or rice or dried lentils).

Bake for 10 minutes, remove the greaseproof paper and baking beans, and cook a further 5 minutes until golden. Remove from the oven and reduce the temperature to 180C.

Melt together the chocolate and marmalade, then stir in the salt. Spread the mixture over the base of the pre-baked case and allow to cool.

Meanwhile, in a processor, blitz together the frangipane ingredients until pale, smooth and creamy. Spread the thick mixture evenly over the cooled chocolate base. Return to the oven and bake 15-20 minutes until just set.

Whilst it cooks, in a scrupulously clean bowl, whisk the egg whites to soft peaks. Gradually add the sugar mixed with the ground cardamom, continuing to whisk until glossy, thick and stiff. Spread the meringue roughly over the tart.

Return to the oven for 10-15 minutes until the meringue is crisp with golden peaks. Allow to cool for at least 20 minutes before serving.

By Zoe Perrett

 34 is packed, everyone is shimmering in flattering light and the total value of designer handbags in the room is very high. This is a restaurant group that knows how to deal with the well-heeled and charges them for the privilege. However, as in Scott’s you can’t fault the food and the service is exemplary.

Give 34 a whirl if you are feeling flamboyant and in need of some fantastic people watching. One thing I feel honour-bound to warn you of in advance: the room, as Mr Bored pointed out, is a rectangle. No champagne balconies, no sound proof booths, just a plain old rectangle. As long as you can cope with that, you’ll probably have a ball.

@ailana