Cocobamboo Camden

Some of my most favourite memories have been made in Camden.

Bouncing around on my dads shoulders on the hunt for bird warblers and adventure, sprinting to Offspring to buy my very first pair of Converse or stumbling along the cobbles with a box of noodles and a woozy smile... Camden has secured itself a cosy little spot in my heart.

So when the old man's birthday rolled around, I knew just the place. You see, my dad was a little bit of a 'lad about the town', back in the good old days.

He would scoot along on his Lambretta dressed in a lilac tonic suit whilst humming The Cure's finest. (I was actually named after the 80s new wave rock ballad 'Charlotte Sometimes', tres chic, huh?)

My dad spent a whole 'lotta time trawling the Camden scene with the rest of his cronies, so I thought I'd take him back there. Nothing too fancy, nothing too suave. Just good food and even better rum.

We rallied the troops and headed to Cocobamboo for a taste of the Caribbean. And a side dish (or five) of Brazil.

According to legend, owners Junior and Emanuela Menezes met in Camden around seven years ago. Having both grown up in the same small city in the north-east of Brazil, sparks flew and before they could say 'black bean stew!' they were happily married.

It wasn't until some years later when Junior's sister unearthed a childhood photograph of her brother that fate reared it's loved-up little head. Clear as day, in the background of the picture stood a young Emanuela, unknowingly walking past her future husband and life-long soul mate.

It gets better. Not only were the two destined for each other since birth, they were also blessed with the same passion for a plateful. Both had worked within the restaurant industry since moving to London, with Junior trained as a Cordon Bleu chef and his wife, a waitress, and the two shared a dream of opening up their very own restaurant. Alas, Cocobamboo was born.

Drenched in rum and drizzled with jerk sauce.

Now, all of this romance-talk was ja'makin me thirsty. To kick things off, I went for a passion fruit mojito and a Jamaican iced tea. Both were pretty darn delicious.

Don't be fooled by these little babies. There's a whole 'lotta booze in that cup. The cocktail list is almost never ending, and the bar-tenders are more than willing to whip up a concoction of your choice with a nano-seconds notice. The bar proudly boasts a thousand and one exotic liqueurs, flavoured rums and vodkas, and I made it my mission to take full advantage of it. I'd suggest you do the same.

Next up, the grub.

I decided to set up my very own little tapas station and order half of the starters menu. First up came the jerk wings. Crispy chicken drenched in an authentic Caribbean sauce. The flavours are nothing like what comes out of a squeezy bottle from Tescos. This the real shebang.

Then came the greenery. A chunky mango and avocado salad which I teamed with a 'mango delight', a rich, creamy cocktail with just the right amount of zing. It was ideal as a side dish but I really wouldn't order it on it's own. It did exactly what it said on the tin, nothing more, nothing less.

That said, what came next included a whole 'lotta meat.

 

Caribbean spare ribs. Salty, sweet, gooey and sticky meat draped in cucumber and spring onion. Yes, I got down, yes I got dirty. And hell no did I use a fork! The ribs were incredibly tasty and there were enough of them to feed a small army. I'm a greedy little cretin and even I couldn't polish it all off.

A went for 'bobo de camarao', a shrimpy, coconutty dish served with rice and greens.

And the birthday pops opted for Caribbean steak and 'tatas.

As good as everything looked and smelt, the curry goat induced a pretty nasty bout of food envy from the majority of the table. The goat was perfectly succulent and the sauce? Well. Lets keep this PG, shall we. Before goat-related fisticuffs broke out, it was time for cake and a very happy birthday boy.

I think he might have wished for more curry goat. But I'm not totally sure.

If you find yourself peckish in Camden, definitely give Cocobamboo a go. After 11pm on Saturday nights the three-floor restaurant transforms into a lively cocktail bar, so even if you're just feeling thirsty, Cocobamboo is your place.

Just make sure you book online before hand and pass on asking the bar staff whether they have beer-can or not. I learnt that one the hard way.

Feeding Time At The Gate

When I've had a heavy night, the morning after means one thing and one thing only. Calories. And lots of 'em.

Nothing quite cleanses a wine-headache like a sunny day spent with the girls in a pub garden. But The Gate in Chorleywood isn't just any old pub garden. It's my favourite pub garden.

I first stumbled upon The Gate on one hazy, hungover morning on the hunt for said calories. To my pleasure, I found a beautifully simple patio filled with pretty candles, rickety chairs and tables, mismatching cutlery and most importantly, delicious food.

As you can see, none of us were feeling particularly perky. The waiter flung a few delicately laid out menus our way and we got searching. I went for the fresh orange and mango juice to get things goin'.

This was the only house red I would be sampling during this particular lunch time...

The menu offers a fair amount of choice, all of the usual pub garden trimmings, pastas, meat and potatoes, salads and posh sarnies.
Being horrendously wheat intolerant, I had to rule out the delicious, thin crust pizzas in favour of a crispy duck salad with shredded cucumber, a hoisin glaze and a sprinkle of toasted sesame seeds.

I can't say I was too put out.

I didn't stop there though, my friend.

These little babies were the main event. Homefried chunky chips dripping in a gooey, rich garlic mayo with just the right amount of ooomph to it. Served on the side of my salad, I didn't even feel naughty. I'd already eaten them up before I had the chance to, anyway.

The girls enjoyed taunting me with their pizzas, which were all tomotoey and chickeney and jalapenoey, just as any pizza worth it's crust should be.
Obviously my taste buds over ruled my common sense (and my stomach) and I treated myself to a sliver of Justine's, just to taste. The base is super thin and crunchy, so although I wouldn't recommend the wheat-free among us to order a pizza when cravings become too much, if you're gonna cave, cave at The Gate. It's almost worth the couple of stomach-spasm filled hours. Almost.

No need to book a table if you're popping in for a Saturday lunchtime seeing to, although they do get pretty busy on Sunday afternoons. To check out the menu or book online, visit the website.

So who wants to take me dancing on Friday night, so I can come back here on Saturday afternoon?

Chopsticks & Chums At Gilgamesh

I thought it was about time I found out what all of the fuss was about.

How good could it really be? A pan-asian restaurant tucked away in the midst of Camden's Stables Market? Well, I'll let you in on a little secret. Just between me and you, it turns out it's pretty spectacular.

Exhibit A:

 I could honestly eat the duck spring rolls forever.

So, let me tell you a little bit about the place. Gilgamesh first opened up in 2006, boasting a bar and lounge area, a nightclub and of course, the restaurant itself. 

The chef, Ian Pengelley, is nothing short of a genius. The cuisine is described as Pan-Asian, and offers a selection of the most decadent starters, mains and desert plates which London has to offer.

Having scooped 'Most Original Restaurant' in the Tatler Restaurant Awards back in 2007, its clear to see that not much has changed since then.

The place is dark, slightly cramped and a lot to take in. One minute you're gorging on a feast of black bean spare ribs and the next, you have the 18:08 train from Kentish Town Station whizzing straight past you. It's a strange little cave of deliciousness, but it's one which I'd happily shack up in for the night.

When it came to ordering, Sophie and I kind of went to town. We went for:

 The earlier mentioned divine duck spring rolls and chicken gyoza's to start

I gave Sophie a chop-stick master class over dumplings and plum sauce, (potential love interests can thank me later, you're welcome.)

Egg fried rice, crispy chilli chicken and vegetable tempura. The chicken was incredible. As someone who can be a little bit funny about eating chicken from the bone, it really is as good as it gets.

It comes with a garnish of cucumber and chills which go brilliantly with the juicy meat and sizzled skin.

The only dish which I wouldn't order again is probably the tempura. Although it pains me to say it, deep fried avocado was probably never going to work. The sweet potato was slightly better, but as soon as it gets a little cold the dish is a write off. If I were you, I'd scratch the tempura and go for the black bean ribs. The table next to ours were tucking in to a plateful and it really did look scrummy.

We shared a bottle of blush over dinner, which I strongly recommend you do the same. The wine is delicious and reasonably priced, coming in at around £26 a bottle.

The dinner was rounded off by our waiters recommendation, the chocolate fondant. Being a slight pistachio fanatic, I insisted he swap the vanilla ice cream in favour of something slightly more nutty, which to my delight, came out as this:

You'll have to excuse the awful picture quality, it really was dark in there!

When we'd had our fill of gooey, chocolately sponge and licked the plate clean, we made our way upstairs for a few cocktails. 

The venue really is something special, if not slightly strange. A whole host of different characters could be found hiding in corners sharing platters of sushi and sashimi, so go check it out for yourself.

Just remember, order the duck spring rolls.