The Problem with English Food

English food. These two simple words conjure up some pretty powerful images for many of us, whether it is as memories of childhood comfort meals or as something best left forgotten. The latter statement is quite possibly an unfair generalization, and there have been some fantastic English chefs – Marco Pierre White, Gordon Ramsay and Jamie Oliver to name a few. However, my focus in this particular instance was not about reaching for those heady heights, but rather a look at what your English regular fare has to offer.

Not too long ago, my wife and I found ourselves in London, England and, as per usual, before long we were looking around for something to fill the growling gap in our bellies. But first, a little bit of background on the way in which we generally approach our meals on our travels abroad. As much as possible, we try to eat local where the locals would themselves eat (unless, of course, the locals are in the habit of hanging out at American fast food chains – in which case we act like food snobs and eat where we think the locals should eat. Right then, ‘nuff said.)

So, when in the land of all things pub, where better to go than ‘down the local’ for a pint and some grub. Which is exactly what we did. Seeing as we were relatively close to plush Oxford Street, finding a regular pub wasn’t as easy as it should have been, but we persevered until we came across a bustling watering hole bursting at the seams with Londoners – at least they definitely sounded local. The locals behaved as if the food was “brilliant, smashing, smashingly brilliant etc…” We literally saw one woman licking her fingers clean after she mopped up the bit of sauce left on her plate. This, my friends, was the place for us. I ordered a local ale, and we sat and waited for the nosh to arrive – mine a fish and chips and my wife’s steak and ale pie with mushy peas. We were famished and finally the eagerly awaited meals arrived.

My fish was a greasy, bony piece of reluctant fillet somehow devoid of any flavour – even that of fish. Chips were slightly raw in the middle, and not a grain of salt would cross this plate’s threshold. Clearly the ancient spice traders were driven back across the channel before they could take root with their foul bounty. My wife’s pie was piping hot – alas fresh from the microwave, soggy pastry and all. The mushy peas were, well…mushy, so I guess nothing to get disappointed about there. Overall though, not exactly brill-o. This unfortunate culinary episode seemed to set the bar for most regular eating experiences…from dessert cafes with stodgy pastries to bread and lettuce masquerading as sandwiches. Nobody was raising that bar…in fact, they had started digging underneath it…

We hadn’t thought of going truly British by having a curry, which admittedly seemed to have been a mistake on our part, but by the end of day 3, our resolve to eat locally had buckled and survival instincts had taken over. We went French. True to form, we had a fantastic meal at Le Relais de Venise l’entrecote. This bistro is based on the original incarnation in Paris (founded 46 years ago) and has been copied to every last detail in London. The success of this establishment, according to their website, “centres around one very simple menu – a starter of a green salad with walnuts, followed by trimmed sirloin steak and chips (read ‘frites’) with its famous sauce.” The sauce is a family secret and very often attempted but never copied – we sensed some Indian spices in there but nobody was telling. We didn’t care either – the sheer simplicity of this concept was fantastic as they chose to do one item and do it as well as it could possibly be done. The meal is served in two half portions which allow the second half of your meal to remain as hot and enjoyable as the first (so don’t feel cheated by your first portion size).

There is a full complement of desserts available for those who have a little bit of room left over…like me (I was on holiday!) This article is based on my personal experiences, but I’m not alone I promise you. In fact, British chef Manju Malhi is starting a campaign to get English food accepted in India by “…adding spices to make them more acceptable.” (Read more about that here). So there you have my damning culinary attack on London street food – I’m sure it’s not all bad but maybe a little bit of local advice would have benefited me. Yes, definitely - that and maybe some salt, old chaps.

Steak Frites

Print Article

Email Article

View All Articles

How to subscribe to feeds