Eating Again
More London food stuff
London restaurants: RIP Pollo- end of an eatery
Rob Grimwood writes: "A hugely missed pasta eatery on Old Compton Street where pasta mains were £3.95 and carafes of fantastic cheap house wine equally good value. Tables were of quality fomica and leatherette bench seats completed the untouched 1950s appearance of the place. Downstairs became more like a busy school canteen later of an evening and sharing tables became obligatory. Still hoping it may reopen though it's been many months and the place remains resolutely shut. I once said that if Pollo's ever closed down I would leave London! But I haven't."
London restaurants: RIP Orange Julius - the devil's drink?
The early to mid-seventies seemed to be an era of extraordinary bad taste: a world where the Bay City Rollers tartan and loon pants were style icons. This tacky gimmickry was also reflected in the booming fast food outlets of which a singular example was Orange Julius. Orange Julius was a burger bar in Golders Green whose motif for some reason was the devil. On the back of each orange chromium-legged chair was a diabolic figure. Out of curiosity, were there any other Orange Julius outlets? Why the devil? Do explain whether Orange Julius is a pseudonym of Old Nick. Is sin the work of Orange Julius? Are idle hands Orange Julius's playthings? The food consisted of mediocre burgers, which, if my memory serves me were liberally festooned with cress. Its speciality, however, was a bizarre concoction of orange juice with raw egg. Now, I may be wrong but I cannot recall anyone saying, "just what I've always wanted, raw egg in my orange juice". This drink came in three sizes of glass as one could never get enough orange juice with egg, or I guess that was the marketing pitch. Suffice to say that after the novelty wore off and you confronted the ghastly reality of having a large glass of orange juice and raw egg, trade tailed off and Orange Julius went the way of the Bay City Rollers and the maxi-skirt into the dustbin of history. Strange times, huh?
London restaurants: RIP Laurent's - Brightening up the interzone
Adam Woolf writes: "Situated in that strange interzone between Golders Green and points west known as Childs Hill, Laurent's was, for twenty years or more, probably the most authentic ethnic eating experience in London to this day. It was a family-run business of two generations of Algerian Jews who specialised in the North African dish of couscous. When I say specialised, I kid you not, because that was all that was on the menu, in three incarnations: carnivorous, piscatorian and vegetarian, with a small wine list of bloody good Tunisian wines. The ambience was no-nonsense French bistro - a few tables covered by trad white and blue checkered cloths. Being in the proximity of Hampstead during its bohemian heyday meant that this tiny place was very popular and they did a kind of take-away service which was unique. You had to come with your own saucepans to collect the sauce and precious couscous. The food itself was unsurpassed - a matter of total dedication to the art. Now Childs Hill will remain forever nondescript with the passing of this tremendous establishment, to be mourned for its fabulous uniqueness."
London restaurants: RIP Window on the World - A little bit of soul at Brent Cross
In 1976, that temple of consumerism, Brent Cross Shopping Centre, opened and with it a restaurant in Fenwicks departement store called Window on the World. This did indeed have big windows and the world it looked out on consisted of the shopping centre car park and the A406. WotW's old-fashioned atmosphere and service provided a foil to Brent Cross's cutting edge soullessness for 20-odd years. It had uniformed waitress service, staff that were there for years, a menu that stayed resolutely in the 70s and, of course, a sweet trolley. Despite its undoubted priceiness it was always a pleasant place to sit for a while and recover from your shopping centre induced migraine. It closed in the 90s to be replaced by a self-service cafe.
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| Message: | 5/5 |
| Date and time: | 19/09/2007 at 16:28:24 |
| Sender: | Radiohead |
| i not only remember the Pollo in Soho - I also remember the Orange Julius in the King's Road - which was a really very odd place indeed - but I was stoned out of my head every time I went there - so that added to it's weirdness. It was the favourite place to go after the Admiral had shut - and the orange juice must have cured many a hangover before it began. I seem to remember drinking the orange juice milk shake - this could be a hallucination? BUT let us lament the loss of the Nosh Bars in Windmill St. The best Jewish food I have ever tasted. There were two restaurants - competing I suppose to provide some of the best and cheapest grub in London. One of them had framed autographed photos of boxers on every bit of wall space. This gave the place a bit of a rough edge, along with the Jewish waitress - a true old fashioned matriarch. She must have been about 60, short, squat and strong. She had dyed blonde hair drawn back from her face in a tight pony tail. She never smiled and barked orders at the chef. Tables and chairs were rudimentary.....nothing about the look of the place could prepare you for the culinary feast that lay ahead....I still dream of their salt beef sandwiches (as wide as your fist), the lutkas (potato and onion pancakes hot and crisp), the cheesecake (serious, serious jewish cheesecake that meleted in your mouth) and the divine chicken soup - what can I say!!!! My life!!! Yes the place was a bit seedy, and it was frequented by the Soho hoods and tarts and pimps - as well as the greatest actors of the day. That just added to the flavour. Guess what's there now? A sex shop and an Indian restaurant...i can say no more but decry the decline in our society..... | |
| Message: | 4/5 |
| Date and time: | 17/03/2007 at 12:32:32 |
| Sender: | audreyrose23 |
| I really miss the Pollo bar! It was so atmospheric, with the grimy hatch at the back where you would catch glimpses of the cooks out back. It was the perfect place to start an evening in Soho. I think it is a good reason to leave London. | |
| Message: | 3/5 |
| Date and time: | 23/01/2007 at 16:26:45 |
| Sender: | aidan.mcmanus |
| The Regent on Edgeware rd was a top gaff.The ice cream there was great and the interior was genuine 50,s down to those pressed metal ash trays that weighed nothing,an ex girlfriend of mine had a picture of her dad and his mates all tedded up outside it in the 50,s and it hadnt changed a bit,an Italian family used to own it and they all worked there from the grandad down.I was riding my bike round there a few summers ago and had a sudden craving for an ice cream so shot round there and caught the last act of desecration,turning it into another chicken shop,the luxury housing of the food world.It was the first time I was genuinely gutted about something like that,showing my age probably,change is inevitable but where can I get a bannana split or knickerbocker glory in the old school dishes and glasses,it aint in my local chicken pagoda | |
| Message: | 2/5 |
| Date and time: | 04/12/2006 at 15:27:18 |
| Sender: | Veronica |
| I remember the Orange Julius on the King's Road SW3 in the late sixties, early seventies (on the site where Marks & Spencers is now)just a small orange juice bar with stools. It didn't seem to last too long, but then shops were opening and closing all the time along the trendy King's Road during this period. The devil motif was a puzzle to me too. I remember going there a couple of times with friends to have a freshly squeezed orange juice, thankfully don't remember the egg part or would have been ill. The place was a distant memory until last week somebody who also grew up in Chelsea in the 50s/60s/70s, mentioned it and it all came back to me. Happy Days! | |
| Message: | 1/5 |
| Date and time: | 15/07/2006 at 19:10:18 |
| Sender: | Louise Kazlowski |
| Blockbusters on Cricklewood Broadway was in the 80s, a run down old-style Tseco. Victor Value preceded this and was an even more ancient food shop, where the aisles were so narrow you couldn't swing a cat. One of the two Victors I have ever known worked as a bouncer at the Production Village on Cricklewood Lane (now a Holmes Place), and he was dubbed 'Victor Value'. Poor sod! | |
