Daffodil Mulligan: a touch of Dublin in the heart of London

At first sight kale toast appears to be the only vegetarian option at Richard Corrigan’s new restaurant Daffodil Mulligan. Then I spot beetroot but still no mains. The veggie member of our party, having scanned the menu in advance is unimpressed. We’re worried - the other three of us, having heard good things about the restaurant which is named after the daughter of a famous Irish street seller, are gagging to go.

I contact the restaurant and turns out they do in fact have a veggie menu. It just isn’t up on the website which doesn’t come as a huge surprise. A bluff Irishman, Corrigan isn’t the type to have much truck with vegetarians.

I’m actually so preoccupied with deciding which of the many things I want I actually fail to notice what our resident veggie orders other than that the kale toast is much sexier than it sounds with 3 different types of kale, (curly, Russian and cavolo nero drenched in parmesan and truffle). Presumably Corrigan doesn’t do vegan.

The rest of us are meanwhile tucking into the most perfect beef tartare with oyster cream which I shall insist on every time I eat tartare in future and crubeens (Ireland’s answer to croquetas) and English mustard - bliss with the absolutely excellent Gibney's stout which is streets ahead of Guinness. There’s also a crab and dashi pear salad and fried chicken with which the member of the party who orders it is well pleased. Stealing a forkful it’s good but but doesn’t seem quite Corrigan's natural register. The langoustine and pumpkin bisque on the other hand which arrives at the table as an unbidden extra, is sheer heaven - silky smooth, with a deep shellfish flavour. We have to order a glass of Radford Dale chardonnay to go with it.

We’ve eaten more than enough for most people by now but we move on to our mains for which hearty seems an inadequate description. Two of us go for game: my partridge comes with mangalitza pork and apple - now, come on, why wouldn’t you have added pork with your partridge or, indeed, bone marrow crumb on your mash? (I can see that our veggie is cringing.) Even the heartiest trencherman among us struggles to finish his game pie which is showily served as a Wellington. Oh, and there’s Pete Hannan’s sublime sugar pit pork which comes kitschly with roast pineapple. You can see that becoming a bit of trend.

We have no intention of ordering pud but Corrigan, who is surprisingly on the pass himself, has other ideas. A loaded plate of pavlova, a 'crème pot' with poached rhubarb, an almond and bergamot 'sandwich' (a sort of mille-feuille) with pink grapefruit granita and a luscious little baked apple arrive, along with a glass of Jurançon, I seem to remember, but then again maybe not. I'd rather lost the plot by this stage. (I forgot to mention the delicious TWR pinot noir - a great choice from a surprisingly naturally-inclined wine list. Well, we are on the borders of Shoreditch).

Frankly I’d go back just for the tartare but there’s a lot to love about Daffodil Mulligan whether you're an carnivore or not.

Like the man himself it’s big, noisy and generous - a little touch of Dublin in London…

Daffodil Mulligan is at 70-74 City Road (just by Old Street tube), London EC1Y 2BJ. At the time of writing there are - amazingly - still tables for St Patrick's Day.

Disclosure We paid for our meal but were given a glass of champagne on arrival and a number of extra courses including dessert.

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5 reasons why Mirazur is the best restaurant in the world

You may have heard that Mirazur in Menton has been voted best restaurant in the world at the World’s 50 Best awards this week. You may well not have heard of it and wonder why it’s so special. I was fortunate enough to eat there and interview the chef Mauro Colagreco earlier this month and here’s why I think it made the no 1 slot.

* It totally reflects its surroundings. From the drop dead gorgeous view, looking over the Med) to the menu it couldn’t be anywhere but the south of France and the Côte d’Azur in particular. You literally catch your breath as you walk in.

* It’s bang on trend. The menu is largely fruit and vegetable-based much of it picked from the restaurant’s own gardens or from small organic growers over the border in Ventimiglia. (The Italian border is literally a few metres up the road.)

* It’s (mercifully) uncheffy. No squiggles, no smears, no gels, no foams, no molecular gastronomy. That doesn’t mean it isn’t artful - the food is beautiful but fresh and simple. Colagreco worked for Alain Passard and it shows.

* There’s a great back story. Young Argentinian comes to France to learn how to cook, borrows money to set up a restaurant thanks to a kindly benefactor and ends up beating his mentors. They should make a film out of it. (They probably will). He’s a really nice guy too. Very well liked in the business.

* It was time for a change. Awards like this thrive on being newsworthy. All restaurants at this level are exceptional but you can’t keep awarding the prize to the same ones year after year. (They’ve got round the problem by creating a ‘Best of the Best’ group for restaurants that have previously held the no 1 slot including El Bulli, The French Laundry, The Fat Duck, El Celler de Can Roca, Osteria Francescana and the original Noma though its new incarnation came in at no. 2. Colagreco, clearly a rising star, was no 3 last year - it was his turn for the limelight.

Oh, and it’s not just World’s 50 Best who think he’s the bees knees. Michelin awarded him 3 stars earlier this year too.

So that's it in a nutshell. Only problem, of course, will be getting a table now. You can but try . . .

Mirazur is at 30 Avenue Aristide Briand, 06500 Menton. +33 4 92 41 86 86

I ate at Mirazur as a guest of the restaurant.

Cell, Berlin

The entrance to Cell looks like something from The Man from U.N.C.L.E, which is funny really as Berlin’s latest hot restaurant opening was conceived by a Russian chef, Evgeny Vikentev. The inspiration, we find out moments later, is not the Cold War, but the Bauhaus.

I can see it now - in the restaurant interior’s geometric and linear shapes (line, shape and colour matter to your follower of the Bauhaus), and in the artwork on the walls. Open geometric ironwork surrounds each restaurant booth, or as Vikentev calls it, ‘cells within cells’, each with a direct view into the kitchen.

With the Bauhaus there was no hiding the construction of an object, such as a length of steel or a beam, it was all part of the design. And at Cell, that means the food too, as each dish is clearly linked to the next as a key local ingredient is carried through. So it’s tasting menus only here, or rather two tasting menus (one is vegetarian) either taken as six courses for €90 or nine courses for €115.

And as the Bauhaus is celebrating a meaningful anniversary this year - it’s exactly one hundred years since it was founded in Weimar (later moving to Berlin) - Cell’s opening is opportune.

Bauhaus lovers will doubtless flock to Berlin this year – and Cell, clearly hopes Vikentev – as the city puts on various events to celebrate what is arguably the single most influential modernist art school of the 20^th century, starting with Alfred Ehrhardt’s striking paintings and drawings which are on show at the Berlin Galleries in the Mitte district, until 18th April.

Vikentev tells us, in between courses, his heavily tattooed arms flying, why he chose Berlin, and the smart Charlottenburg district, for his first restaurant opening outside Russia. And how he wants his food to convey a meaningful message, and how he equates its conception to modern art.

“Berlin is a big multicultural metropolis, and it’s very advanced in terms of modern art. But there’s also something about the Berlin scene that really draws me,” he explains, placing a dish of wild monkey head mushroom in front of us. It's served with a savoury, faintly lemony sauce sharpened with a blueberry scented meaty jus and assorted foraged herbs, the lot cleverly washed down with a citrusy Scheurebe from the Pfalz (from Weingut Pfeffingen. €10), chosen from the by the glass list, which is split into ‘Standard’ and ‘Prestige’.

“Historically Berlin has always nurtured the ideal environment in which to question the status quo, whether social, economic or artistic. And I hope to play a part in that with menus that are not restrained by artistic geographic borders,” he says, enigmatically, pointing out that this edgier approach is a first for upscale Charlottenburg. It might sound a tad pretentious but it’s not - Vikentev loves food, loves modern art and he loves Berlin, he shrugs.

Cue Vikentev’s first (of many) insider tips for Berlin: pre-book an escorted tour of the privately owned Boros Collection housed in an enormous WWII air raid shelter called The Bunker. It’s jaw dropping – and Uwe Henneken’s sylvan paintings still make me giggle (with childish delight).

So here’s Vikentev’s first meaningful message – don’t adulterate wines with chemicals. The 400-strong wine list, put together by head sommelier Pascal Kunert, is either organic or biodynamic, and mostly both.

Back in St Petersburg, Vikentev runs one of the city’s most notable restaurants, Hamlet + Jacks, which boasts the biggest natural wine list in the country, alongside its thrilling, thoughtful food. He searches out the best ingredients from across the vast country for its ‘Ours’ menu, while also combining them with global ingredients on ‘Ours & Theirs’. Vikentev loves to travel, and has done stages in many top restaurants over the years, including Albert Adria’s 41 Degrees in Barcelona.

That mushroom dish was course number five (of nine, actually a mash-up of both menus, as some of the vegetable cooking looked so intriguing), and it followed a stunning piece of char served with swede – the swede carried through from the mussel course before, topped with a semi-transparent circle of lardo, which melted satisfyingly as a hot mustardy broth was poured over the top.

Another standout dish was the ‘celery (sic), mimolette, black truffle’ – celeriac, coiled into an intricate round with an intensely cheesy sauce and shavings of the prized funghi. While a ‘cep tiramisu’ (above) actually silenced the table, the dusting of cocoa powder replaced with dried ceps in a dish that defies description but needs to be tried. To match? A glass of delicious Cava ‘brut nature’ from Spanish producer Clos Lentiscus (€12).

A good moment then to remember the Bauhaus basic principle of internationalism and it’s willingness to grapple with, rather than shy away from, a changing world and its fundamental optimism about the future. It’s needed now more than ever - along with Cell, I reckon.

Cell, 172 Uhlandstrasse 172, 10719 Berlin, +49 30 (0)179 6109 160, cell.restaurant

Five of Evgeny Vikentev’s favourite places to eat in Berlin

Markthalle 9

The epicentre of Berlin’s urban food scene in vibrant Kreuzberg where you’ll find Asian, African and Antipodean vendors cooking native dishes alongside local artisans (we tried a killer slice of sausage and potato pizza from Sironi),

Zollpackhof

A canal-side Bavarian restaurant and beer garden (you’ve got to do it) that was once a West German border custom house run by jovial host Benjamin Groenewold, who numbers Angela Merkel as a regular. Great schnitzels,

Freundschaft

It might be a newcomer to the wine bar scene in Berlin, but what an entrance, with its impressive natural wine-heavy list, lively choice of vinyl on the DJ-driven turntable and even the opportunity for a little dance, Mittelstrasse, 1, 10117 Berlin

Dada Falafel

Quite simply the best falafel I’ve ever tasted. There’s always a queue here, thanks to its ardent fans (among them a fair few celebs) but it’s worth the wait for the superior falafel and shawarma,

Hallmann & Klee

Located in the slightly edgier district of Neukölln, this popular breakfast through to dinner spot (brunch is big here at the weekends with excellent avocado and poached egg) offers fabulous local produce served imaginatively/

Where to stay

Sir Savigny hotel, Charlottenburg

Doing what boutique hotels are supposed to do – offer a sense of place (quirky, artsy Berlin), with a sense of humour (press the ‘Butcher Bell’ in your room and you get straight through to the kitchen), and a sense of luxury (great beds, guys). Doubles from €122.

Cell is at Uhlandstraße 172, 10719 Berlin. Tel: +49 30 86332466

Fiona Sims is an award-winning food , wine and travel writer and writes regularly for the Times among other publications. Her trip to Berlin was hosted by Cell Restaurant

L’Escalier, Paris – A Hidden Gem

For me, the best thing about being a Parisienne (despite the fact I speak pitiful French and I never have any idea where I am) is the culture surrounding food.

Imagine it: slender women with tiny dogs meeting to drink espresso and smoke slim cigarettes streetside at a corner café; an elderly couple out at the brasserie they have been visiting every Wednesday for the past 15 years for their weekly bowl of soupe à l’oignon; a first date where a couple shares a dozen oysters and a bottle of Crémant. Take this image, and put it into a restaurant.

I stood at the top of the stairs above the restaurant and asked my (truly) Parisian friend if he’d ever been there before. He’d never even seen it. To be fair to him, L’Escalier only opened in October 2018, but you’d think that because this place is exactly 28m away from the Lamarck-Caulaincourt Metro station, a Montmartre born-and-bred local would notice a bright yellow awning popping up out of nowhere.

This visit was my third in three months. It first grabbed my attention before I even moved to Paris; the whole inside of the place was ripped out and, naturally, that piques any foodie’s interest. What they put back into the empty shell is delightfully minimalistic – bare stone walls, wooden tables and spartan wooden chairs, a metal bar with unvarnished wood shelves adorned with fairy lights.

Everything served in L’Escalier screams French. When I think of an honest French dining experience, everything is served simply, without fuss, and drenched in sauce. It’s a tough choice between Fine de Claire N°3 oysters, celery velouté with coffee and hazelnuts, a classic homemade foie gras, fricassee-ed cockles with coconut milk… but I choose to dive into the Oeuf en Meurette – a traditional Burgundian dish of a perfect poached egg perched on top of a sauce of red wine, bacon, onion, mushrooms and croûton . This dish is everything I want French food to be - It’s delicate, classic, saucy, and a perfect way to tease the palate and stomach before my pièce du boucher.

Translated as “butchers choice”, the piéce du boucher is tender and juicy and seasoned as meat is only seasoned in my dreams. Served with gratin dauphinoise and rocket, it may not be revolutionary, but to me and many other foodies, sometimes it’s not about making foams and jellies and marshmallows out of unsuspecting ingredients, but just cooking simple ingredients well.

"It may not be revolutionary, but to me and many other foodies, sometimes it’s not about making foams and jellies and marshmallows out of unsuspecting ingredients, but just cooking simple ingredients well."

On the menu may also be a blanquette de veau - the heartiest of veal stews which looked and smelled like a hug from your mum -, a fish of the day, and a risotto, all of which are made or served with the most seasonal produce you can think of. The menu is short and repetitive at some points – red rice is used in two main dishes – but there is something for most tastes.

As for the wine list: the five wines by the glass are written in chalk pen on the front of the white wine fridge, which I think is absolutely perfect, and I believe has changed since my first visit – an idea that I love since it keeps things fresh and interesting every time you return.

The list itself is not your Michelin-starred tome of the greatest vintages in the past two centuries, as it is only about 30 wines long, but there is reasonable diversity and it’s not ridiculously overpriced like some places you can find in Paris. A glass costs around 6€, and they aren’t exactly scrimping on the servings, either.

Since I can eat for Britain, I squeezed in a vanilla and chestnut mille-feuille for dessert. I discussed with Marie, my waiter, how the pastry chef, with every dessert, manages to make everything just-sweet enough to be perfectly well balanced. I’d recommend trying their traditional 'flan' as well – you can’t visit Paris without an inhumanely large slice of flan.

This is the kind of place I would (and do0 go by myself, simply because it is the place to indulge that image of Parisian food culture. The staff are charming and sing along to Ms. Lauryn Hill when she comes across the sound system, the customers, who fill the tables like clockwork at 8pm on the dot, are smiling and laughing, the food is cracking, and you’re pretty much guaranteed to come in at under 50€ per person. I came in on the cent, and had an aperitif, two glasses of wine and three courses (because it’s the weekend and 2019 is all about treating yourself).

L’Escalier isn’t Arpège, it isn’t Alain Ducasse, and it isn’t Pierre Gagnaire. It’s a bistrot in the historical centre of the bohemian world. And it’s a great place to sit with a friend, have a glass of bubbly, a fantastic meal, and simply enjoy being Parisienne for a night.

L'Escalier is at 6 rue de la Fontaine du But, Paris in the 18th arrondissement. Tel: +33 1 42 57 13 29. You can find them on Facebook and Instagram (as lescaliermontmartre)

Nathalie Gardiner is a trained sommelier and is currently studying for a Wine and Management Diploma at the Cordon Bleu Institute in Paris. Pictures courtesy of L'Escalier.