Rossi’s Italian Restaurant

We were out celebrating again, I’d overcome all odds and conquered hazards, Steve was gleeful his horrid module was over as he had handed in his final assignment, so London Road was our oyster. We could choose tonight’s eatery out of the few restaurants left. To be honest, we’ve defied the predetermined order of the clock so many times at this point it seems rather futile to even comment upon this. Anyway, ended up in Rossi’s, not officially on London Road but we’d always intended to dine there as we’d heard nothing but encouraging comments about it. It was a week night so no doorman greeted us, we had to let ourselves in! We left the icy, grey of Sheffield and entered into the temperate and dazzling room, which was more Grecian than Italian. The room had the appearance of a tasteful 1950s, continental brasserie which was unfortunately concealed underneath the ostentatious embellishments, had the room been stripped back the intended Italian homage would have been successful. We ordered our wine, house White, I’ve learnt my lesson, and perused the menu. I couldn’t decide upon a starter, nothing seemed appetising, so Steve chose for me, mountain and sea prawns, with mushrooms cooked in tomato with mozzarella cheese and garlic, in addition Steve chose for himself, ricotta cheese with fresh basil wrapped in parma ham. My starter was nicer, a little like a prawn and mushroom pizza without the base, the parma ham was good also. Our plates were cleared by the Frankenstein waiter, who grunted at us in heavily accented English, I found it impossible to understand any of his questions and looked to my companion to translate and answer. The mains course of Napolitana and Calzone were brought but I’d forgotten the cardinal rule of fish/pizza combo – ie. don’t frigging do it! As much as I love anchovies having them all dry and crusty on top of my pizza did them a disservice I will not be repeating, the calzone seemed to have every possible ingredient stuffed inside, slightly too many flavours and textures going on for my humble palate, though the doughy base was great to munch on. Too much wine had been drunk and I could not tell you how much the meal cost or whether it was good value. We began the necessary layering of outerwear to depart our cheeks already ruddy.

Pho 68

I’ve been craving dumplings; almost every night since dining at Jabu I have requested them for my dinner. Apparently they’re very easy, I think I should try and make them tonight. With this in mind you can tell my second venture into dumpling consumption has done nothing to put me off, in fact it has only encouraged me to seek them out all the more. Tonight we dined at Pho 68 a Vietnamese restaurant, I was content as long as the served dumplings, and of course they did. Bliss. Fried dumplings for starters begrudgingly shared with Steve and his aromatic crispy pork. Both starters were charming, the dumplings differed from those of Jabu, the frying made them darker and more like tiny Cornish pasties, the frying had given them a slightly charred flavour but ultimately did them no harm. Their contents tasted heavenly, exquisitely flavourful with the distinct taste of ginger and soy sauce. The pork was also nice, I usually refrain from eating anything with a noticeable amount of fat in it, the texture just creeps me out, but here the bite in the pork and the crispy crackling works well with the soft layer of fat, and the taste was great too. That was until I heaped on a molasses smelling dip that was on the table that had an unpleasant flavour of chilli infused tea leaves.
The next course was brought without much of a wait and we tucked into Vietnemese green curry, chicken with lemongrass and chilli and noodles. The chicken was delicious with subtle hints at warmth and sharpness, the curry was more powerful, and unfortunately overwhelmed the flavours of the other dish. The chicken itself was soft and slippery, the prawns in the curry had just the right amount of bite, although the flavours were great they both had a bizarre thickness to the sauce, with a glueyness one associates with gravy not curry. The meal was lovely, with plenty to spare for today’s lunch – and reheating did it no harm I can tell you.
Despite all of these gastronomic treats on show Steve still manages to out do our dining out experiences without fail in our hovel of a kitchen. His pork with actual gravy is better, his curries are even more tasty and he leaves out the gloop factor, if he can master dumplings I'll never have to eat out again, after we've concluded the clock of course.

Jabu

Until last night I had been scarcely able to glimpse inside the huge windows of Jabu, a house serving Beijing cuisine, largely due to their being consistently steamed up whenever I'm passing. The reason for this being that it was a fondue style restaurant where you cook the meal at the table, Steve had already eaten here but had found the whole experience fairly baffling as he’d been unsure what to order and what to do when the food had arrived.
The menu essentials were vaguely explained to us and we were able to make a respectable choice, when the waitress returned to take our order she ensured we had ordered the necessary broths and dipping sauces. We’d also ordered some chicken and spinach dumplings, there were far too few of these to share, which came in a portions of twelve, they were delicious little parcels of savoury delight. I could have eaten more of these, they were a revelation. I’d not had them before, perhaps I’d been put off by their appearance, wan and soggy, they’re not exactly appetising but apparently ‘good things come in small packages’ and ‘appearances are deceiving’ these were wonderful.
The second course was delivered, we’d chosen the fragrant thai and satay soup bases along with various meat, seafood, noodles and vegetables to submerge and cook in the broth. We cautiously placed the uncooked food into the simmering stock and eagerly waited, while plunging raw carrot into our accompanying dips, the delicious sweet chilli and brawny garlic. The beef balls, again not so inviting, once cooked were delectable, as were the scallops. The meal was miraculous; the aromatic soups infusing the raw ingredients, provided exquisite food as entertaining the diners, large groups and parties would enjoy this kind of fun interactive dining experience. We also found the place well priced, you could cherry pick which raw food you’d like so potentially you can make the meal as economical or expensive depending on your pocket. It seems my aversion to chinese food is fading, Jabu is now a London Road favourite, I would definitely return here, with a group of people, it is unquestionably an experience I want to share with friends.

Noodle Inn

Noodle in is one of the few places on London Road that I had previously ventured. The first time was one of those impulsive decisions one makes when in good company and spirits. We purchased a couple of bottles of wine and took them in we had a brief wait at the bar, where they served us our own wine, as they prepared our table. It was busy; the huge windows at the front were steamed up and we were treated like kings throughout the meal. I was incredibly satisfied with the food; it was simple but tasty and served in abundance with plenty left over at the end to take home, it was hastily boxed up and returned to us with complementary ice cream. All in all it was an excellent evening we returned home to finish off our wine and cause a substantial scene as we argued over a bloodthirsty game of Carcasonne.
This initial dining experience was great and I’m not going to befoul the place by abusing it here, it’s hard to expect every dining experience in the same place place to be equally good. Again the place was busy, so much so that we were seated at the end of a long table running the length of the restaurant, I wasn’t a massive fan of this as I could hear literally every word of the foursome we were placed next to, it felt rather intrusive and made me feel uncomfortable.
For starter we had ordered ½ a crispy aromatic duck to share and when she brought it to the table and started to shred it I thought that we’d been too greedy and over-ordered, but I suppose the amount was misleading as we managed to nosh down four or five pancakes each without any difficulty. After rather a long wait our mains were delivered, they were comparable to our past experiences, simple but tasty. I’d ordered sizzling satay prawns which arrived angrily on the table spitting and fussing, Steve’s meal was the triple roastie big plate, and it was big. As always we just shared the meals though I preferred my prawns. The sauce covering my meal was distinctly not satay but nonetheless enjoyable, more like thick gravy than anything else, the sauce on both meals and on previous excursions was identical. After the meal had finished, we waited and waited the plates were finally taken away without the offer of taking away the leftovers. No ice cream was brought and neither was our bill. In the end we were sick of waiting and paid at the bar.
This experience at Noodle Inn was inferior to the previous, but can be blamed upon our eating out so late on a Saturday night, the service was otherwise excellent, the food satisfying but it’s also the best value we’ve had on London Road so far.

Our Big Fatty Greek Wedding at Parthenonas

Instead of just the usual mid-weekly clock last week saw our second outing down London Road as we were entertaining guests and were too hungover to do anything other than share our challenge with our visitors. Welcome Gilly & Rhea to infamous London Road Clock. As perfect hosts we let the interlopers decide where to dine so instead of stopping off somewhere on the ‘noodle corridor’ we bypassed the oriental mecca that is situated on London Road after Zeugmas and found ourselves seated inside the leafy Greek eating place Parthenonas. The atmosphere inside was that of a family owned restaurant, the décor typical apart from a wall of greenery covering the window onto London Road, blotting out reality and transporting you away to a Mediterranean veranda. For starters our guests ordered the meze for two, while Steve and I shared Parthenonas Feta and Spanakopita and I was filled with a murderous rage, barely able to control my anger when I was asked to hand over half eaten delightful feta baked in tomatoes sauce. All of us were left thoroughly satisfied and sated by the first course and were somewhat dreading the following. It arrived and was duly tackled, probably not enjoyed as much as it could have been had we not stuffed our faces/bellies with our starters. The Stifado I had chosen was lovely, though there was slightly too much cinnamon it was positively festive. The leftovers were hastily boxed up for us as we were ushered to the bar, for there was a wedding party awaiting our departure. As we paid we were offered and compelled to imbibe the lethal, traditional Greek tipple Ouzo, apparently it fights swine flu.

Zeugmas Mark II

The second Zeugmas on the clock is literally five minutes walk away from the first. The restaurants were similarly decked out, both no frills with an allusion to Mediterranean style, in the air hung the fragrant perfume of char grilled meat and spices. Again we were presented with bread and olives, again they were greedily consumed as we ordered our meal. Making a distinct point of choosing different meals from our previous venture I chose a chicken dish with a sauce that I can’t remember the name of. It was interesting and very enjoyable but I ended up swapping meals with my co-clocker as his dish was superb. Another chicken dish but this time with a yoghurty rice accompaniment which rocked my tiny little world. The collection of flavours worked perfectly together and despite ordering a starter, which I’d eaten all up, I was able to finish my meal and was indeed left wanting moor.

Thai Punna

The second Thai restaurant so far and we ordered the set menu, now experience should have taught us moderation, instead we ordered the generous three course meal for two at £19 a head. The starter platter was of a great standard, a varied selection of spring rolls, prawn toast, chicken skewers, along with plenty of dipping sauces, one to note was the sweet and sour plum. Next was my favourite Dtom Kaa Gai, the spicy chicken soup. This was okayand I’ve had better, but it’s not an easy dish to get wrong, even I’ve been known to be able to throw this satisfactorily together, with the necessary tantrums that occur when I enter the kitchen. To me this soup typifies and embodies Thai cuisine, an exciting and soothing broth infused with heat and zest which tantalises every part of the tongue, the Thai Punna soup was enjoyable but slightly too vapid to inspire more effusions of pleasure than that. The three main courses, were greeted with fewer still, both of us now looking upon the meal as a challenge to conquer rather than enjoy. My favourite was a very sweet red curry with duck, I’ve decided Thai curries need no meat they are so full of flavour and the meat absorbs the flavour so little it is not required. The other two dishes were rather disappointing, to me they were too greasy and lacked the usual Thai flair. I’m starting to believe that no restaurant will come close to the first in the clock, Baan Thai, I’ll always be disappointed when comparing the following meals to the first, Thai Punna has double the impediment in this regards as it is another Thai restaurant falling significantly shorter than it’s predecessor.

Aroma

Further up the road we entered the gilded Indian restaurant Aroma, safe to say this is by far the largest restaurant we’ve dined in. Within there is not a trace of traditional curry house décor, it’s mien instead modern brothel. Glossy red, white and black, sleek and masculine.
The stand out moment was when they brought the pickle tray with its six different choices, all of which are great and better than any I’ve had before, even the weird chunky orange one that no one ever likes was edible.
The starters were pleasant but the main course was practically toxic, the flavour itself was fine and the meal would surely have been bearable were it not for the gristle and toughness of the meat. I chose the lamb Karahi and it left me feeling vaguely ill, the hideous crunch as you bite into a hunk of meat signals the start of a terrible meal. Only in one other restaurant have I experienced the same thing the atrocious and egregious India: The Restaurant (now closed down) on Kirkstall Road in Leeds. It too was also style rather than substance, serving such dreadful meat is unforgivable in a restaurant so obviously decked to impress. Perhaps if there were fewer puma statues littering the place they might be able to purchase decent meat. It was just terrible and cheap, full of cartilage, tough and unappealing, so after I’d pulled the third bit of knuckle out of my mouth I decided to stop eating it and move onto the plate opposite, King Prawn Karahi. Here again I was woefully disappointed the king prawn seriously overdone and suffering from it, flavourless and dense, practically a crime.
After leaving half the meal I wanted to make a quick exit lest we have to eat another course even more crude than the last. Had we left after the starters the meal would have been amazing but crap produce mixed with lazy chefs left an unsatisfied and slightly nauseated Jane, ug.

A Romantic Meal

Feeling full of remorse for our previous and repeated rule breaking this week we headed back to La Romantica for an Italian meal for two. On this excursion they able to accommodate us and only another two diners littered the room. We ordered a carafe of wine to sup while we studied the brief menu, I was allowed a few brief sips of the former and fewer glimpses of the latter before the contents of my glass were tipped dramatically onto my lap. After a quick mop up and descreet bawl in the loos I returned my damp posterior to my seat and ordered pate and steak Diane to accompany whatever was left of my red wine. The wait for food was excruciating as I will ill disposed to accept the apologies of my companion and instead sulked and stared at the hideous wallpaper. Luckily the stale atmosphere was broken with the arrival of the starter, which was satisfactory, when it comes to pate I can only compare it to my mothers Christmas efforts which will never be improved upon. If I’d have eaten the main with my eyes I would have derived much more pleasure from it, the creamy sauce covering a plump and sizeable steak alongside fat chips all looked great, it tasted fine but fell slightly short of expectations. It was Italian food by numbers, all the right ingredients without any of the art, the portion, again was too large and I found myself feeling ill after I'd admitted defeat. This has been a recurring feature of the clock, it can be denoted to my substantial gluttony, or as I would like to believe, down to the inability of restaurants to measure a correct portion size. I think we are unprepared to leave any food that has been bought and paid for and as a result we gorge ourselves and ruin an otherwise satisfactory meal. We as diners cannot be expected to portion out our own food, the chefs have more experience and should therefore know what is acceptable. You'll be glad to know that the temperature of the establishment was fine. The waiting staff was excellent and I left an appropriately British tip as we hastily departed the restaurant so I could rinse off my crotch.

Birthday Treat

We again defied the rules we had ourselves set in place, this time venturing to Wasabi Sabi, much further up the road than we had yet reached. Today being my birthday I had a choice of any restaurant or cuisine on London Road and I had chosen teppenyaki. I had for some time been eyeing the place and felt that it was the right sort of establishment to host my birthday celebrations. We sat at, not on the iron griddle awaiting our chef meanwhile we were sufficiently impressed and entertained by the skilful chef opposite. We ordered the from the set menus and awaited our food and fire show. I was left severely unimpressed by the manoeuvres of the man sent to cook our food. Lacking entirely in charisma and enthusiasm he dutifully but dispassionately prepared and cooked our food. The food afforded more character than he and was found to be excellent. The scallops fresh and juicy, the lobster perfectly succulent, all the meat was seasoned to perfection and though the steak was asked for rare and delivered medium the meal was superb just firework deficient. The waiting staff were on hand when needed but stays at an appropriate distance. I found myself sat directly under an air conditioning grate and as soon as the hot plate had cooled I began to feel a chill, I have found that as someone who is vaguely related to someone who may or may not have worked with coal I feel the cold much more and am eternally doomed to be placed in the way of an odious wind of natures or man’s making. We were more than contented with our experience at Wasabi Sabi until minutes before we exited when the very same chef that had left us temperate donned a fine hat and proceeded to execute an enviable culinary show at the table behind us. He began to juggle utensils, flip lobster tails into his hat and light alcohol on the plate with volcanic results to the whoops of appreciation from his diners. They were encouraged to get involved and instructed to toss food around and into each others mouths while he himself exhibited a somewhat disturbing groinal rotation whilst emitting curious whines. Apparently the cooking of oriental cuisine at Wasabi Sabi arouses the chef and disturbes the diners. We left satisfied by the food but feeling disappointed that our experience had been less enthralling than that of the other diners.

Zeugma's

I'm just catching up with the clock as I’ve been to America trying to get back into the swing of things – time for an update. After Candytown we ventured across the road to La Romantica, entering through the domestic looking door and were surprised to be turned away as they were full to capacity. Grrr. Our need for food and progressing with the clock led to a tiny distortion of the rules and we headed up London Road to Zeugma’s. A Turkish restaurant that looks and feels a take-away offers a healthier and superior calibre variation from the tradition London Road kebab. Seated and ravenous we were grateful to be presented with complementary bread and olives, which were hurriedly consumed and sated a growing hunger starting to grumble from inside the darkened corridors of my gut. It’s traditionally Turkish victuals were aromatic and tender, they enticed the nostrils while stimulating the saliva glands. The lamb kebabs were full of flavour and served in a substantial quantity. As usual there was too much provided and my plate was decidedly not clear at the end. We were well served and well satisfied by the end of our meal, even more so when the bill arrived. The meal was well priced to for the food and service provided. There distinct and unsolicited cool breeze that meandered occasionally through the tables which carried upon it the abrosial smells from the stove. The smells were pleasing the siberian tempest less so. I suppose the open cooker warms the surrounding air to an acceptable temperature for others but I, as a miner's son's daughter, remained bundled in a winter coat throughout. I'll not prattle on about this slight inconveniance more than necessary, and state it was a lovely meal.

Candytown

Literally across the road from Tin Tin is Candytown, a Cantonese family restaurant. Inside is a scarlet welcome, colourful and friendly. The staff enthusiastically hustled us to a table, the service throughout was efficient and courteous. Choosing the Al a Carte menu option the starter arrived swiftly and was devoured with equal speed, the spring rolls were stood out as excellent. Next arrived the crispy duck pancakes, which were expertly served with chopsticks and were my favourite course of the meal. Next arrived two tea warmers and four separate dishes and a bowl of rice. The Sizzling Beef with Special Sauce arrived at the table bubbling away noisily with a flourish of steam though I preferred the flavour of others in front of me: Chicken & King Prawns in "Phoenix's Nest", Sweet and Sour King Prawns (I’ve already exposed myself as a sweet and sour enthusiast) and Chicken with Peaches and Cashew Nuts. The most outstanding thing about this meal was the massive quantities of food presented and the feelings of gluttony and subsequent fullness. Again the leftovers were boxed up and now lie in the fridge awaiting consumption. Agreeable service and surroundings alongside fine food made this clock enjoyable.

Tin Tin

Next stop – China! In stark contrast to Baan Thai, Tin Tin has more of a canteen feel, not excessively welcoming and somewhat uninspiring. Generally I am unconvinced by Chinese food as it is my least favourite fare, in all probability due to my previously timorous meal choice. Despite the huge variety of dishes I tended to repeatedly elect to consume the same meal; sweet and sour chicken. Shaking off this tiresome attribute I ventured into new and flavoursome terrain. The satay beef was discreetly nutty and thinly flavoured, the meat was succulent but tough, Kung Do Pork was more enjoyable, the pork wasn’t too fatty and the flavours were richer and more distinct. Alongside a portion of rice there was plenty to eat at a very reasonable price and the excess was boxed up and eaten the next day for lunch. I doubt I would revisit to Tin Tin despite my new found daring I remain under whelmed by this restaurant and it’s food.

Baan Thai

Not wanting to waste any time whatsoever, I ventured to the first restaurant at the bottom of London Road, Baan Thai. Inside was exotic and plush, the service was affable without bordering on the side of sycophant. Traditional Thai food that was absolutely divine. I had a red Thai curry with prawns, it had the perfect blend of hot, sour, salty and sweet flavours – scrumptious. My one disappointment was that I would be unable to venture back there until the clock was completed. I would truly advocate Baan Thai if you like authentic Thai cuisine. Yum yum yum. Clock number one down, numerous to go.

Rules

Apart from the strict rules of clocking which I must adhere to (the first rule of clocking is: don’t stop till you clock, the second rule is: a clock is a clock is a clock) I felt it essential to set down another guideline to ensure I duly completed the clock. London Road is home to a multitude of establishments where food is on offer yet I was limiting the clock to restaurants. The pleasure from the challenge derives from the substantial cultural mix of cuisine available and omitting takeaways allows me to skip over the flavour necropolis that is kebabs and overly fried burgers.

Introduction

Walking down London Road in Sheffield one is overwhelmed with the number and variety of eateries, being thus stricken I decided it was time I take action and challenge myself to a cruel trial of gastronomic endurance. The test; clock London Road. In other words visit and eat in every restuarant on said road, the odyssey will start at the bottom and work upwards and I'll chronicle my experiences in this blog becoming a counterfeit critic. The first rule of clocking is: don’t stop till you clock!