Post by Baz Faz on Jan 14, 2018 14:08:44 GMT 2
I have just been reading a review in the Guardian of a Sichuan restaurant in London. The critic (Jay Rayner) likes to show off a bit. Here are some snippets from his review starting with his comment on a fellow diner who he didn't approve of.
what a schmuck. Going to an arse-kicking, cheek-slapping, thigh-spanking, gloriously ring-burning Sichuan restaurant like this and ordering the crispy duck is a little like popping into a brothel and paying for a chat.
When he gets to reviewing the food rather than the diners he is impressed:
Dinner in a Sichuan restaurant is usually food as action movie. It’s all bash and crack. But there are defined moments of subtlety here, too.
At least I think he is impressed:
grilled green peppers, tossed with black beans, soy and vinegar, are like padrón peppers that have been hanging out around the back of the bike sheds with the tough boys, learning brilliantly filthy habits.
Jay has a large appetite:
There is a list headed “Adventurous dishes”... I try the dry fried pig’s intestines, with dried chilli and Sichuan peppercorns.This is fried food which demands attention. The crisped bits of piggy inside have a crunch that gives way to a hit of glorious offal pong. It’s like andouillette that’s been away on a gap year, got a tattoo and started smoking dope to prove it.
In the interest of his review he goes on:
We chose pork belly, squid, chicken breast and broccoli. I’ve had the Sichuan peppercorn tingle before, but these make half my mouth develop acute, giggly pins and needles. This cheerful, brawling hoodlum of a dish shoves us over the top.
Jay has enjoyed it but enough is enough.
That’s a hell of an awakening. But it’s probably enough excitement for one month. My mouth needs a rest.
what a schmuck. Going to an arse-kicking, cheek-slapping, thigh-spanking, gloriously ring-burning Sichuan restaurant like this and ordering the crispy duck is a little like popping into a brothel and paying for a chat.
When he gets to reviewing the food rather than the diners he is impressed:
Dinner in a Sichuan restaurant is usually food as action movie. It’s all bash and crack. But there are defined moments of subtlety here, too.
At least I think he is impressed:
grilled green peppers, tossed with black beans, soy and vinegar, are like padrón peppers that have been hanging out around the back of the bike sheds with the tough boys, learning brilliantly filthy habits.
Jay has a large appetite:
There is a list headed “Adventurous dishes”... I try the dry fried pig’s intestines, with dried chilli and Sichuan peppercorns.This is fried food which demands attention. The crisped bits of piggy inside have a crunch that gives way to a hit of glorious offal pong. It’s like andouillette that’s been away on a gap year, got a tattoo and started smoking dope to prove it.
In the interest of his review he goes on:
We chose pork belly, squid, chicken breast and broccoli. I’ve had the Sichuan peppercorn tingle before, but these make half my mouth develop acute, giggly pins and needles. This cheerful, brawling hoodlum of a dish shoves us over the top.
Jay has enjoyed it but enough is enough.
That’s a hell of an awakening. But it’s probably enough excitement for one month. My mouth needs a rest.
