The Chiswell Street Dining Rooms, Moorgate

There's something to be said for tapping into the start of a trend. For example, the gastropub revolution in the UK that began in the mid-nineties with the now legendary Eagle on Farringdon Road.

The Northerner and I were fortunate enough to be there (or there about) when those pioneering pubsters decided that stringy roasts and overcooked veg was not what punters were looking for. Cue French brasserie-style cooking taking a grip on the UK's pubs, and nearly every home in the country being familiar with exotic offerings such as fishcakes, Thai curries, and moule frites by the end of the nineties. The flipside of this revolution was the spawning of the gastro chains - All Bar One, Slug and Lettuce, et al. But I'll leave that particular gripe for another day.

Two of the finest proponents of what was a once derided, but now celebrated, culinary art form are Tom and Ed Martin, the brains behind the superb offerings of the Gun in Docklands, the Botanist on Sloane Square and my personal favourite, the White Swan, in Fetter Lane.

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Their latest offering is the Chiswell Street Dining Rooms in Moorgate. Housed in the original home of the Whitbread Brewery, the team have done a great job of turning what was a fairly rundown space into something quite special.

The green exterior makes it look like any other City pub. Entering from the bar side and you can see the transformation, from the leather-topped (and vibrantly busy) bar area, through to the vast dining room. Hues of green and brown dominate the interior from the polished fitted wooden floors through to the modern yellow-green leather chairs. The original windows have been restored to give them, in the words of the Northerner, a school building finish, albeit with a restaurant twist.

On the night we visited, the punters were very City, with a mix of well-heeled Europeans who were probably staying at the connected hotel. The waiting staff were charm personified and very good looking to boot. I know it shouldn’t make a difference, but it does.

The Northerner started with potted ham hock, parsley and baby gherkins which was rich but light, perfectly seasoned and filling. I went for the Lincolnshire smoked eel, with celeriac remoulade, Charlotte potatoes and beetroot. The eel was simply fabulous and the sweetness of the beetroot complemented it perfectly. For mains, the Northerner had the grilled Cornish sole with dill butter and tender stem broccoli which was moist and melt-in-your-mouth in texture. I went for the stuffed Middlewhite pork loin, accompanied by Clonakilty black and white pudding and a roasted Braeburn apple. The combination of these flavours worked perfectly. The pork loin was well seasoned and delicately cooked. The herb infused white pudding and blood rich black pudding were delicious. We shared a blueberry cheesecake and yoghurt for dessert which was marshmallow light and rich berry in flavour.

The charming Sommelier recommended a bottle of Shiraz from New Zealand’s Elephant Hill Estate in Hawkes Bay, which had the dryness of your big French wines, but the lightness that you usually associate with a Pinot Noir. Divine, in other words. We also started with a few cheeky champagne cocktails as you do, which were perfect aperitifs.

The Northerner and I can be a tough crowd when it comes to eating out, but we had to admit defeat on that front. There was nothing which we could criticise. Apparently it’s pulled more than 140 covers a day since it opened in early June. With the quality of food and service they deliver, you can see why. It’s good to know that some trends are here to stay.

The Chef's Table, Tetbury, Gloucestershire

For those of you who watch A Place in the Country (and the chances are that if you’re reading this, you probably do) will know that the Cotswolds rates highly as a destination for City types in search of a rural home. Commutable and chocolate box picturesque, this part of the country seems to encapsulate everything good about England, albeit in a very Richard Curtis way.

Yet it was a part of the world that neither the Northerner nor I had visited. To prove we’re nothing if not eager to try out new places, we followed ten sun-filled days swimming in the Adriatic Sea off Croatia with a weekend break in Tetbury in the heart of Gloucestershire. We were drawn to the town by the amazing art-meets-fashion ‘bed and breakfast’ that is Oak House Number 1. Owned by the charismatic and charming Gary and Nicola, you will struggle to find a more romantic place then this. And is was they who recommended, and kindly booked us into, The Chef's Table, which is run by the Michelin-star chef Michael Bedford and his wife, Sarah.

Housed in a former antiques shop (of which there are plenty, might I add), The Chef's Table combines a delicatessen/food shop/fishmongers at ground level with a bistro spread over two floors. We dined upstairs where you find an industrial-sized open kitchen where Michael and his chefs cook from a short blackboard menu.

Whetting our appetites with a cheeky glass of prosecco, and some freshly baked bread and olives, we went for the homemade prawn bhaji with a lightly spiced red lentil dhal and the Cornish lobster and pea risotto for starters. The Northerner’s bhaji was subtly spicy and worked well with the dhal. It was cooked to perfection without a trace of oiliness. My risotto saw the sweetness of the peas combining nicely with the rich flavour of lobster. It arguably lacked a little seasoning but that is being picky. For mains the Northerner went for the roasted wild halibut with broad beans, and the crab and parmesan gnocchi. The fish was moist and firm - while the gnocchi was delicious - the sharpness of the parmesan merging brilliantly with the succulent crabmeat. I went for the roasted Gressingham duck breast with confit leg, a tatin of butternut squash and a baked English onion. This turned out to be a feast-sized dish, with the confit leg and duck breast challenging my normally voracious appetite. Nevertheless it was a lovely dish for which the onion provided a sweetness that offset the game flavours of the duck. For dessert we went for the soufflé which was light and subtle sweet and just what we needed to round off a big eating night. We drank a bottle of the Bagordi Rioja 2008 which was superb, so much in fact that we ordered an extra glass to round off the evening. (But perhaps that’s more a reflection on us.)

The Chef's Table also offers a cooking-as-theatre experience that comes about through the bar-style seating for some of the diners. However there are no Gordon Ramsay-style tantrums here, in fact it’s the opposite with it being so calm and quiet that you don’t quite believe it’s a working kitchen. The waiting staff are friendly and helpful, as you would expect in a place of this quality, and the prices are very fair with the mains mostly falling around the mid-teens mark.

However, it is a little quiet. I know might sound an odd thing to criticise it for, but the staff seem to speak in near whispered tones, and to my memory there was no background music. So while it is a lovely place to eat, and we most certainly enjoyed ourselves, it wasn't a place full of fun.

But then again, perhaps I’ve been in London too long where you get used to noise that borders on chaotic wherever you are. Maybe the Northerner and I need to sign up for that Place in the Country.

Hawksmoor, Spitalfields

Going out with your work mates can be a challenge. Going drinking is easy. You just pick the bar that is the least offensive to the majority of the imbibers. That’s how All Bar One, Corney and Barrow and other chains operate - by offering a safe, if not slightly boring, environment. Dining with your colleagues is different.

For a start, you have to take notice of people’s dietary requirements. Do they like fish? Can then handle spicy? Are they vegetarian? Are they semi-vegetarian? (Given we work in the City I tend not to consider options for vegans.)

Then you get into the question of ambience – is it fashionable enough? Is it too fashionable? And in these credit crunched times - is it appropriate? After all, these are colleagues, not clients.

With the trend heading back towards all things carnivorous, in recent years premium brand steakhouses have thrived on serving clients, punters and colleagues alike. Arguably the best out there right now is Hawksmoor of Spitalfields, and more recently Covent Garden.

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Hawksmoor derives its name from Sir Christopher Wren’s sidekick, which implies that it’s not quite of the first order. Nothing could be further from the truth. This is a much-raved about restaurant, and with good reason.

Hawksmoor’s exterior is misleadingly anonymous, which is a long-winded way of saying that it’s understated. If it weren’t for the punters inside, you might be going into a reprographics shop rather then a restaurant. The interior is simple but pleasing. Wooden chairs and tables are packed closely together and are framed by white washed walls and exposed brickwork features. There is a long wooden bar to the rear with leather-cushioned stools packed snugly together. You’ll get to know your drinking partner quickly enough. The music is noted for its absence, but not required as the buzz of diner chat and cutlery gives it a French brasserie-style ambience.

But people are here for the food, and that’s what this review will focus on. The starters include my favourite of bone marrow and onions, delicately fried and presented with the original beef bones and toast. Soft in texture and subtle, yet offal-like in flavour. It’s not to everyone’s taste, but I love it. A companion went for the pepper squid which had been flash-fried and seasoned with chilli, salt and pepper. It packed a nice punch and was perfectly cooked.

For steaks I went for the 600g Sirloin (medium rare) which was well seasoned and melt in your mouth delicious. For the first time in my life it was too much for me to eat in one sitting. Fortunately Hawksmoor does a great ‘doggy bag'. My colleagues tried rib-eye and rump variations which were smaller but equally as flavoursome. We washed it down with a few bottles of NZ Main Divide Pinot Noir (does New Zealand do any other kind of red wine?) which was light and peppery and perfectly complementary to the mains.

The staff are friendly, casual but very efficient. Service is swift and always charming. The cocktail boys are a force in their own right. The champagne-based Hawksmoor Fizz and gin-based Bombay Double are two of their better offerings.

Despite its cusp-of-Shoreditch location, the punters are City. So much, in fact, it's why Hawksmoor has never been a favourite of the Northerner's. There are far too many bankers for her liking. But the sheer quality of the food on offer more than compensates for Hawksmoor’s City-ness. And let’s face it, at the very least you can take your colleagues there.

40/30 Bar, 30 St Marys Axe

How do people manage to keep abreast of the number of private members clubs in London? And by 'members clubs', I’m not talking about your gentlemen-only, port-quaffing, cigar-puffing gigs that attract the same sort of people that enjoy fox hunting.

What we actually have are a whole host of venues aimed squarely at the readership of this site. Well, at least the ones who aren’t quite ready for pipes and slippers.

In the City alone, we host the trend-defining Shoreditch House, the edgier Milk and Honey group, and the more urbane Number 8 clubs. Yet there are plenty more on the horizon with the soon-to-be launched Gresham Street, and the recent discovery (for me, anyway) that is the 40/30 Bar in The Gherkin.

While I’ve always known there was a venue atop of this landmark building, I didn’t realise it was part of a private members club. Technically it’s known as Searcys Club, The Gherkin (Searcys actually being an upmarket catering company), and it pitches itself as the City’s most exclusive private members club, restaurant and Champagne Bar. But don’t they all.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t take much to imagine that if anything, 40/30 will have a good view. Well, for once I am going to agree with the PRs behind this place when they say that the views from the glass dome are simply breathtaking. If anything, that does it a slight disservice. The space on top of the Norman Foster-designed Gherkin that houses the bar is an architectural wet dream. The striking contrasts of the sky and London’s cityscape are framed by the iron girders that Foster’s engineers have forged into the dome. On a clear day you can see the best views I’ve ever seen across the city, taking in all four corners of London. The view is so impactful that it is very hard to resist spending your first 20 minutes madly snapping ‘look at me’ pix on your phone before uploading them to Facebook. But maybe that was just me.

However, you don’t go to a private members club just for the view. The bar staff are incredibly charming and very efficient. Given that it seats around 200 people and the night the Northerner and I visited it was at capacity, the team coped admirably with an excitable and thirsty crowd. We attacked the cocktail menu, and started with a couple of the Champagne variety – Gherkin Fizz with Amaretto, Blue Curacao and lemon juice; Apple Vice with Grand Marnier and apple. They were crisp and refreshing.

We then sampled two Martini cocktails – Aromatic Elixir with Tanqueray, Amaretto, LBV Port, lemon juice and strawberry puree; and the La Boheme, with Ketel One vodka, elderflower, Chambord and cranberry juice. They were both superb concoctions and we had to show considerable constraint not to have a repeat round.

Fortunately we tried two more from the long drink range, the Elderflower Collins with Hendricks gin, elderflower, lemon juice, sugar and soda, and the Mai Tai with Pamero Especial rum, Orange Curacao, orange juice, lime juice and sugar. Now, the only other time we had tried Mai Tais was in Hong Kong for the Northerner, and the legendarily-bad Covent Garden cocktail bar that was Long Island Ice Tea for me. I think it's fair to say that neither of our experiences were good. Well 40/30 overturned years of accumulated prejudice by producing a Mai Tai that was stunning. I don’t often recommend trying a particular drink, but I will in this case.

To make sure we didn’t make complete spectacles of ourselves we did sample some of the bar snacks, of which the grissini and dips (mayonnaise and green pesto) were particularly moreish.

40/30 isn’t cheap but it's not wallet busting, either. Cocktails hover around the £13 mark, which might sound steep, but for the quality and that view is money well spent.

The punters are very City – lawyers, insurance brokers, and of course, bankers. You won’t find any fashionable young things here. While the ambience, no doubt triggered by the views, is laid-back cocktail lounge. This is striking contrast to the nearby pubs and bars, which have a more frenzied atmosphere.

Searcy’s also has a club lounge on the 38th floor, a restaurant and private dining rooms for punters or execs looking to entertain in style. So far so perfect, but there is one thing that is a little odd.

To get into 40/30, you have to go via the main reception to the Gherkin. The entrance necessitates that you have a full security clearance, which actually means going through metal detectors and bag x-ray machines. You half-expect the security guards to ask you to remove your shoes. And while this is fine early on, if you were coming from another bar or restaurant later in the evening and feeling a bit ‘fresh’, negotiating the entry might prove a little bit tricky. Because after all isn’t one of the main joys of being in a private members club being the ability to drop in any time you like? There’s a lot be said for an old fashion door person to greet you. Perhaps the traditional members clubs haven’t got it all wrong.

Skylounge and Lobby, Mint Tower of London Hotel

I do not know many people who like estate agents. In most people’s estimation, they sit alongside tabloid journalists, parking attendants, and nightclub bouncers in the low-life pecking order. They’re still a shade above investment bankers, of course.

However, there is a reason that they are held in such low regard (estate agents, not bankers). Who else promises you an exclusive viewing of a property...with another couple? In what other industry can someone try to sell you something in excess of quarter of a million pounds, but only let you see it twice - for 15 minutes each time? In the dark. And where else do you meet people who have reinvented the English language as part of their business. OK, I admit, the last could apply to bankers, too.

But estate agents do have their purposes, most obviously around the brokering of properties. And they operate around certain dictums that are hard to argue with. The first is that location is everything. The second is that you can’t put a price on a view, a rule that SkyLounge, the rooftop bar in the Mint hotel, follows to the limit. Any place that takes in Tower Bridge, the Gherkin and the not-quite-finished Shard in one panoramic sweep has a head start on the competition. Factor in the Thames (admittedly at a tight angle), Canary Wharf, and the skyscraper in Elephant and Castle that nobody seems to know the name of, and SkyLounge is out-in-front, heading into the back strait.

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However, if bars were only about views, then we would all be drinking on the top of mountains. Situated on the 12th floor of the Mint in Tower Hill, you need to factor in the hotel impact when rating this bar. And although the Mint Hotel is several steps above a Holiday Inn or Ramada, it is not a Four Seasons. The main hotel reception aspires to Philippe Starck-like glamour, but actually comes across as...bare. After taking the lift up to the bar, you are reminded that the clue to this place is in its name: Skylounge and Lobby. To make sure that every viewing spot possible is taken advantage of, they have installed seating along the glass-windowed corridor to the bar. Which is all very well and good, except it feels like you are drinking in the hotel lobby rather than a bar.

Things improve when you arrive in the actual cocktail bar. The staff are attentive and very efficient, and they offer a good range of rather expensively-priced drinks. Two cocktails – the Sky at Night (blackberries and kiwi shaken with Bombay Sapphire gin, and Haymans Sloeberry liqueur served tall with elderflower cordial and pomegranate juice) and the Thames Timeout (fresh raspberries and basil leaves muddled through Zubrowka Bison Grass vodka, Passoa liqueur and raspberry berry puree topped up with rosé Champagne and served in a chilled martini glass) stood out as personal picks, although you won’t get much change from a twenty for them. We settled for the house Champagne, which was fairly priced and appropriately dry. The bar is enhanced by the two outside decked areas that give you the opportunity to take in those fabulous views al fresco. Perfect for a summer evening.

The punters were your mix of City drinkers muddled in with hotel guests. This is not a fashionable set, but there was plenty of that cheeky chap charm about the place to compensate for those in search of pretensions.

The trick to any good hotel bar (an oxymoron in my book, but I’ll continue) is to make you feel that you are in a funky independent cocktail club rather than an appendage to a skyscraper. Skylounge doesn’t quite pull that off just yet. However, for killer views and a pre- or post-dinner drink, you could do much worse than this place. And at least it hasn’t been taken over by estate agents.

Aurora Restaurant, Soho

When does a place officially become a favourite? The restaurant you always fall back on when you’re in the area or are making a recommendation. The pub where the bar staff recognise your face. The nightclub where the bouncers greet you with a nod and a smile.

We all have them. Some of them come about because they are so good we can't resist returning. Others are because they are convenient. Aurora Restaurant in Soho belongs to the former camp. It’s a restaurant that the Northerner and I have been to many times over the years, and never once has it let us down. We have followed on that by recommending it on to friends. A big deal, in the Northerner’s world, who similarly have been impressed enough to recommend it to their friends.

Aurora is tucked away in one of the more fashionable corners of Soho that is Lexington Street, and its customers reflect the location. Media, advertising and fashion types flock to this place and give Aurora an energy that is uplifting but unpretentious.

The restaurant is located in a cute Victorian cottage set over two levels. At street level, there is seating for around 20 diners in a space that some might call intimate, but others might describe as crowded. It's easy to feel like you’re part of the adjoining dinner. (Which is fine so long as neither you nor they are on a date.) To the rear is a stunning courtyard garden which is perfect for a long summer evening. There is a downstairs (read: basement) area that can be booked for private functions, and is used as an extra dining room in winter. I actually quite like it. With its eclectic design, it feels like you are in someone’s house rather than a restaurant. The Northerner is not quite so enamoured and prefers street-level dining - a point she has made on more then one occasion.

The menu is changed monthly, but can be best described as that catch-all basket which is Modern European. On our most recent visit, we started with salads of feta marinated in mint and red chilli on cannellini bean salad with cucumber, red onion and sultanas with salsa verde, and pan-fried black pudding with wilted spinach, red onion and dried cranberries on grilled aubergine and Puy lentils with red wine Balsamic reduction. Which were delightful.

For mains, I opted for a pork chop, spinach and mash which was much more appetising then this sorry excuse for a reviewer has described. The dish was perfectly seasoned and succulent. The Northerner went for the pan-fried sea bass which was melt-in-your-mouth perfect (her words).

There is a comprehensive, but not overwhelming, wine list that never fails to disappoint. Prices are fair, with most of the wines falling into the £15 - £30 camp. New worlds are mixed in with European stalwarts, with a white French Burgunday (2004) and Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Domaine du Grand Veneur from the same year available for punters who want to spend over £50. We settled on a Montepulciano d’Abruzzo, Frentano – Abruzzo, Italy (2009/10) that came in and £18.50 and went down a treat. So much so that once the bottle was finished we ordered another couple of glasses - just to be sure of course.

The owners and staff are charming, relaxed and welcoming. They are occasionally too relaxed for our UK sensibilities and can be a bit casual. Also, while the food is very good, it is not by any means innovative. You won’t get any surprises at Aurora.

However these are minor criticisms in what is a consistently good dining experience. That Aurora has been with us and flourished since 1995 is testimony to its quality, versatility and price sensitivity in what have been interesting times. Nearly 10 years ago, the Observer’s restaurant reviewer Jay Rayner declared Aurora ‘the perfect antithesis of a Conran enterprise’. I’m not sure if by that he meant it officially became a favourite place of his, but that, along with all of the aforementioned factors, certainly works for me.

The Laughing Gravy, Southwark

The Laughing Gravy, 154 Blackfriars Road, Southwark

Its funny where this job takes you to. When you first set out to be a bar reviewer you envisage that your evenings will be spent at the West End’s finest establishments quaffing champagne with celebrities whom you regale with Oscar Wilde like witticisms and anecdotes. Your celebrity grows and you become a brand in your own right, off to live the life of a Jamie Oliver or Gordon Ramsay.
The reality of course is that for every high profile event, bar and club you visit there you are asked too there are 10 to 20 places that you review simply because you are there. Some of them are even south of the river.

The Laughing Gravy (isn’t that the most brilliant name) is one such place where I ended up as part of a result of some research into a new business idea. I was accompanied by the Author and her partner the Wine Merchant whose brain I was picking, and as it happens, who supplies the aforementioned restaurant.

The Laughing Gravy occupies the ground floor of an original Foundry building. A cheeky little bar greets you with the 50-seater restaurant to the rear. Wooden tables and chairs, cream coloured walls and skylights instead of a roof, give the place a relaxed ambience.

The head chef Michael Facey has worked alongside the likes of John Torode and Mark Hix and their influence is apparent in the menu. The food on offer is an English take on Mediterranean fare. Our starters included Aubergine Gratin with Montgomery cheddar crust and olive, caper and cherry tomato salsa which the Wine Merchant declared delicious. The Author and I went for the Chicken Liver Pate with farmhouse crostini (lifted by strips of green pesto), red onion dressing and pea shoots. The pate itself was smooth and rich with a hint of a liqueur. Although the waitress said it was alcohol free. So much for my sophisticated palate.

For mains we opted for the Sea Trout special with spinach and fried potatoes which was flavoursome and cooked to perfection. The Author took on the salmon and smoked fishcake – large, meaty and rich – with herb pickled cucumber and a side of chips.

For desserts the Author and the Wine Merchant tried the Rhubarb crumble with pistachio ice cream. Sharp fruitiness offset by a flavoursome yet light ice-cream. I went for the Laughing Gravy chocolate fondant brownie with vanilla ice cream. The crumbly biscuit texture, deep chocolate flavours with a hint of mint was lovely if not a little sweet to my taste.

We washed it down with a beautiful bottle of Grand Caprice from France. Its a favourite of my dining companions and easy to see why. I didn’t think you could have a big but subtle wine, but Caprice proved me wrong.

The service is friendly if not a little uneven. The waitress was lovely but slightly off her game. Perhaps she was new. However Jon the owner who was out front-of-house was charm personified. You could imagine that he has quite a following.

The Laughing Gravy is out of the way, and this is from someone who lives in nearby Brixton. Its apparently equal walking distance from the Young and Old Vic. Equal but far then. This is one place I might never have found on my own, or driven past it if I had. However that would have been my loss. It just goes to show. Every so often it’s good to eat south of the river.