London Tutankhamun and Dining Trips!

The Sahara Restaurant on Hereford Street, W2 is a nice eating choice in the Bayswater area of London. The Sahara is an authentic and friendly Moroccan place, with a Tapas bar in the cellar, and the main Moroccan restaurant on the ground floor. I chose to dine in the latter.

I was impressed with the choice of food. Before I started my meal, I was served with a nice traditional flat bread with dips of Harrassa (spicy Moroccan sauce), olive oil and olives. For those on a budget, this makes for a pleasant starter in itself.

There were around 10 starters to choose from, and I chose the goats cheese encased in Filo pastry, and drizzled with pomegranate sauce. I enjoyed my fresh tasting starter, and it pretty much tasted as one might imagine. However, if I have opportunity to grumble, I would have appreciated a little more salad as the dish was a little dry.

For my main course, I struggled to choose, as the Tagines looked interesting and there were a couple of promising looking cous cous dishes to try. There were a couple of options for vegetarians, but I finally fell upon the chicken skewers, served on a bed of lentil salsa, with a little cous cous dish on the side.

My meal was of very generous proportions, and equivalent to about three chicken breasts, and it worked very well with the lentils and cous cous.

Unfortunately, I was so full of food I couldn’t even attempt one of the nice looking sweets on offer. I always like that combination of nutty and sweet, that the Moroccan’s make so well. On the downside, the authentic Moroccan beer they serve, Casablanca, is a rather hefty £3.50 for a small bottle. It’s probably just as well, but I watched my intake, so as to ensure I didn’t order a second bottle!

The restaurant is a little rough round the edges, with its sandy painted aertex walls, and 1970’s arches, but that just adds to the character of the place. The Moroccan theme extends to the furnishings, Moroccan paintings, drapes and even the tableware.

My blow out meal came to £21 that included a 15% mandatory tip. I was impressed to see that the diners included some French families and a man who had extensive knowledge of Morocco; both parties seemed very happy and satisfied with their meals.

Anyone traveling to the north of London will be used to Kings Cross train station. If, like me, you have an employer determined to make the best value, you may just find yourself an hour or so away from a designated train, and keen to find a respectable drinking hole within reasonable distance from the station.

Unfortunately, although there is much ongoing regeneration, the area around Kings Cross is still very grotty, and the only pubs along the main street are either places for sex pick up, or huge cavernous student bars. I’m personally too young and moralistic for the one, and too old for the latter.

However, just a little way from Euston station, and perhaps about 7 minutes walk from Kings Cross, is the first reasonable pub on offer, Mabels on Mabledon Place.

Although the name of the street might suggest where the name come from, apparently, the marketers of the pub say it is named after a former landlady called (el surprise) Mabel who died in the 1970’s, and who is supposed to haunt the pub. Yeah, right.

Inside, the pub is a standard London boozer; a little scruffy round the edges, and blighted by a large football showing TV screen; at least the noise is switched off. Much better is the wonderful selection of Shepherd Neame ales. Living in the north of England, I can get bottles of its most famous brew, the dark strong Bishops Finger, but it is great to sample some of the other beers in the range that rarely travel any further than their native Kent. I particularly enjoyed a pint of their light and hoppy Kent’s Best. The only slightly off-putting thing is the price of the beer, but I guess it’s not too excessive for central London, and at least it keeps the more undesirable and dodgy element out on the streets (and there are a considerable number).

Mabels keep the beer well, and it is always served promptly and with a smile. Those wanting pub grub can eat at Mabels, as they offer a reasonable bar menu, at slightly inflated London prices. However, the burger and chips at around £7 didn’t appear excessive. The food looks standard but edible, although there are other food choices in the area, including a couple of chain restaurants, and more expensive places.

Overall, I always find Mabels to be a good choice to linger away an hour or so, and the clientele always seem a mixed bunch of all ages, in a quiet and pleasant atmosphere.

"No! I cannot take a drinks order until you have ordered your food."

The rather harsh statement from the waiter was directed at a startled group of Spanish tourists, obviously spending a little too long in deciding upon their order. Sitting at the next table, I had a ringside seat of the entertainment.

Flustered, one of the group tried to explain that this was the first time most of them had eaten Indian food and they wanted a little time to decide their order.

Did our waiter act with sympathy and allow them a drink to accompany their struggle with the menu?

No, he decided to bark out choices for them. Fortunately, one of the group with the best English, and experience of Indian food decided to control the situation, and ordered a selection of food.

Was our waiter satisfied?

"You have not ordered enough food for the table", he insisted a number of times. The leader of the group persisted, and told the waiter that they did not have a big appetite and that was what they wanted to eat. Our waiter finally went away, the hard sell attempted and failed.

Diners 1, Waiters 0.

I offered a wry smile, as about 5 minutes earlier I had survived a perversely hard sell of accompanying salad, poppadoms, vegetable side dishes, and an insistent statement that I must have rice with my meal.

Diners 2, Waiters 0 – a satisfying result.

However, this was not to prove to be either my most relaxing meal or my best choice of restaurant.

Unfortunately, there are still restaurants that rely on unsuspecting visitors to make up the bulk of its custom. From my experience, the attractive looking Maharaja Indian Restaurant on Queensway in Bayswater, and very near the Bayswater tube station appears to be such a place.

The Maharaja is a nicely furnished restaurant, with cloth tablecloths and a menu that although a little more expensive than the nearby competition looked reasonable. One thing that swung it for me was that the word "buffet" was absent. Live with a trained food hygienist for 20 years, and you too will want to avoid buffet food like the, a-hem, plague!

Unfortunately, inside, the restaurant is quite long and thin, with tables quite closely crammed together. This was cosy for me, as I was a sole diner on this occasion on a business trip, but I wasn’t too sure the Spanish party appreciated me being at the edge of their discomfort.

Another ominous sign came when my onion bhaji starters arrived scant minutes after my order. They tasted dry, were rather day glow orange, a little stale, and tasted like they had been sat in the kitchen just waiting for an order to arrive. I was distinctly unimpressed that I had to pay another 85p for the yoghurt sauce to make them palatable. Fortunately, the shredded lettuce and tomato was free.

My table was quite close to the bar area, and each of the wait staff had the unfortunate habit of putting their hand down on my table as they passed it. I found this disruptive; particularly considering the table wobbled. I was also unimpressed with the slightly rotten smell that wafted around the restaurant once or twice. I didn’t really detect where that came from, but it could have been the drains (which to be fair wouldn’t have necessarily been the fault of the restaurant). It wasn’t there all the time, but just little unpleasant wafts to keep my sense of smell on heightened alert. Fortunately, I can’t blame the food as I felt no poorly after effects.

I was also unimpressed with being force fed my bottle of Kingfisher larger. Almost each time I had put my glass down a waiter came along to fill my glass. I much prefer to moderate my own drinking, and find it rather invasive. The Spanish table also protested at this action. Again, to me it stank of the "hard sell" approach.

I had ordered Chicken Tikka Masala for my main course, and although it had the word (nut) next to the order, I was unprepared for the coconut assault. I’m more used to Muslim style curry, and the Indian habit of adding coconut doesn’t please me. However, again, I appreciate this is just personal preference, and to be fair, I was warned! The meat was plentiful, and although I didn’t personally like the taste of the meal, it wasn’t badly done.

My naan bread was less forgivable, about the size of a tiny supermarket naan and about as fresh and palatable. The naan must represent about the worst £2.80 I have ever spent in an Indian restaurant. I am used to a naan being perfectly adequate to accompany my meal, but this one ran out half way through. No matter, I wasn’t over fussed with the curry to worry about it too heavily.

Again, my main course arrived scant minutes after my starter plate was collected. I always like my meals to be prepared, and this speed just made me think that the kitchen were rushing the job and using pre-prepared food.

Worse, I still had my knife and folk in my hand as the plates were being taken away. The waiter then asked, "finished?" as I handed him my knife and folk. Hmm, I have now!

Partly to upset the wait staff who seemed to think I was after some kind of speed eating record, I decided to linger over the reminder of my drink, and let my food hit my stomach before departing. To be fair, they did let me do this without comment.

My bill came to £22 with a mandatory 10% tip added. I guess I can’t complain that my service wasn’t attentive or fast; however, it certainly wasn’t a stress free experience. Not to be recommended.

During our recent visit to London, we realised it had been a while since we had visited the largest British China Town in Soho. It didn’t take us long to decide to hunt down a good quality and reasonably priced restaurant in the area. I‘m guessing that the London China Town is pretty much like any other China Town in the world; busy streets, bright lights, Chinese signs, and lots of restaurants to choose from.

We decided to stop at the Golden Dragon on Gerrard Street W10. As it’s near the front of the China Town entrance (just spot the pagoda), this is an area busy with tourists. Unfortunately, an abundance of tourists generally means lazy and poor dining, but we spotted the Golden Dragon with a number of happy and smiling Chinese families dining inside.

The restaurant didn’t seem that large outside, so the long and large dining area came as a bit of a shock. A waiter quickly seated us at a table in the cavernous upstairs room. As we were dining very early evening, I was surprised to note there were only a few empty tables dotted around. The restaurant looked smart, if a little old fashioned with its pink tablecloths and brown carpet. It was the kind of place they could film an eighties drama. I was less impressed with the trip to the toilet. The loos and sinks were a little dirty, and I had to trip past table extenders and great laundry baskets of used pink tablecloths.

I am but a rare Chinese food diner, so the long list of dishes on the menu mystified me somewhat. I fortunately persuaded my fellow diners that the set menu with Crispy Duck (£19.95 with the duck, £15.95 without) was the way forward. As is often the case, the set menu is fine, but unadventurous. A draft lager was £3.60 a pint, which I’m guessing isn’t too outrageous for London, and a 10% service charge was pre-added to our bill. I always worry about this, as it suggests that the service usually isn’t good enough to encourage diners to pay that service charge in any case.

The waiter took our order quickly, and we were convinced that our meal would be served very quickly, so the restaurant could use our table for another set of diners (or two) before the end of the evening.

As it turned out, while our dim sum starters rapidly arrived, we had to badger the wait staff for the other courses of our meal. Given the sheer number of covers in the restaurant, the badgering didn’t prove to be that easy, but I could see the regulars were more adapt at hassling for table service. While it was nice that we didn’t have to bolt our food down as I had feared, we had arranged to meet some friends on the other side of London later in the evening.

Our Dim Sum was nicely varied, with ribs, battered prawns, spring rolls, seaweed, and some very prawn laden toast. While I enjoyed the starter, it was quite oily, but I usually find that of Chinese food (and it is precisely why I don’t eat it that often).

I always enjoy the crispy duck pancake, and for once the distribution of raw vegetables, duck, sauce and pancakes were almost perfectly calculated. I was particularly impressed with the way they boned and chopped up our duck in front of us. I bet the wait staff are sick of doing it after a week or two!

After a long wait, we had our glasses refilled, and our main course arrived. Between four, we had some excellent Singapore noodles, and some unexceptional meaty rice. The actual main dishes were a tasty but sweet string beef, chicken, a bland vegetable dish, an excellent prawn dish (with nice and meaty prawns), and one other. There was no shortage of food, and we all have a healthy appetite.

Overall, we found the Golden Dragon a solid if not exceptional place to dine. I can imagine finding better on one of the backstreets close to Chinatown, but I can also imagine wandering into far worse in this tourist-laden part of town.

One slightly distressing aspect of the meal was the raging thirst it induced. While it’s possible I’m starting with the early signs of diabetes, it is far more likely the restaurant were rather heavy handed with the doses of monosodium glutamate and garlic salt! The other little “trick” was that the bill came as a lump sum figure. Fortunately, we remembered that the 10% service charge as automatically included, but I’m sure they gain some extra tips from the practice.

While I enjoyed the place as a one-off, and I particularly enjoyed some of the dishes, the uneven service, the uneven food, the unimpressive toilets and the raging thirst would mean that if I lived in London, unfortunately the Golden Dragon wouldn’t become a regular haunt.

An exhibition of King Tutankhamun’s treasures (called Tutankhamun and the Golden Age of the Pharaohs) is in London’s o2 arena until the end of August 08. It then goes to the US and the Dallas Museum of Art until 2009. As old King Tut doesn’t visit our shores that often, we decided to take a visit.

We bought our ticket a couple of months before our visit. Make sure you book ahead, as tour groups snap up the weekend tickets in particular. Likewise, you can avoid some of the worst queues by opting for an early viewing. It might be nice to have a lie in, but believe me; it’s worth it to avoid the snaking queues of midday. At £20 ($40) a ticket at weekends, you should give yourself the best shot of seeing the exhibits.

The display is housed in around a dozen rooms, with 131 ancient Egyptian artefacts to view. This means that most of the exhibits are well spaced apart, and are shown in their own well-lit Perspex box. Although this is billed as a King Tutankhamen exhibition, the vast majority of the exhibits come from his two predecessors. It tells a good story, but don’t make the mistake of thinking you will see all of the Tutankhamen treasures.

I appreciated the large explanation board for each exhibit, with a smaller version to left and right so there is plenty of room for everyone to read and view the display. I particularly liked the option to look at the back of the exhibit, where I was more interested (I loved the wooden chairs and the necklaces).

As well as the beauty of the exhibits, you cannot but help to think about the emotions of the people preparing the tomb. They cannot have anticipated that the boy-king would die so young.

We know a little about ancient Egyptian customs, having been to a number of museums on the subject (the one in Berlin is particularly good) and so skipped the chance to pay an extra £4 ($8) for headphones and an audio guide. To be honest, I thought we had paid enough, and as it happens, the explanation text is reasonably detailed.

The exhibits are laid out into a story; most information is around the two Pharaohs before Tutankhamun. From here, I learnt a little about the culture and beliefs of the ancient Egyptians. The relationship between Tutankhamun and the previous Pharaohs is unclear, but it seems likely they were close blood relations. The female line defined the succession to the throne.

The exhibit also explained why the tombs were built, and how important they were in allowing the Kings ascend to the afterlife. In particular, the Kings were meant to use the goods in the temple for their new life.

On the positive side, I particularly enjoyed the history lesson of the society around King Tutankhamen, the beliefs of the age, and the turbulent way society changed at that time. It did help to explain the exhibits. Of course, another plus was the chance to see the actual exhibits. I was amazed by the attention to detail, and opulent beauty.

I suppose I should have expected it, but I got a little irritated by the crowds, and particularly just a few (with the headsets), who seemed to think they had the right to march in front of me to get a better view. Rather than join battle, I waited sitting at a bench for a few minutes just to get a lull in a particular room.

The music was intensely irritating. I hate that new age cheap TV documentary music, and a couple of hours of it were just too much to bear. Why they couldn’t try for a more authentic Middle Eastern sound or even silence is beyond me. The shop at the end was also in poor taste. No, I didn’t part with £40 for a gold tissue box where the tissue comes out of King Tutankhamen’s nose!

The exhibition is at the o2 exhibition centre in London (the old millennium dome). While there are plenty of chain restaurants inside the dome, there isn’t anywhere with character. Likewise, the number of public toilets are limited, so make sure you use the ones by the entrance, or you are in for a long walk (unless you brass neck it, in one of the restaurants!). Given the crowds, and the long escalator ride to the entrance, the exhibition isn’t very disabled friendly. I didn’t see anyone in a wheel chair attempting the tour.

We spent about 2 hours at the exhibition. I think others scooted through a little quicker, as the rooms got busier as we proceeded (and we were in the first group of people allowed access to the rooms that day). Overall, I can recommend the exhibition, but I have to conclude it is no substitute for the full treasures in Cairo Museum.