Year one: Top picks

Of the 40 or so restaurants, cafes and pubs I've visited over the past year, a few stand out. Whether it be for the quality of the food, the setting or the service, I've definitely developed a few favourites.

While many of my top picks after six months hold firm (particularly for vegetarian dining), the second half of my mission opened my eyes to some new contenders.

Best meal: One of my most memorable experiences was at supper club The Ball Green Door, the only place to scoop a perfect 10 score. Everything was spot on; from the welcome to the post-dinner coffee with hand-made chocolates, it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience. The food was excellent, and even more impressive for being home-made rather than produced in a full-scale restaurant kitchen. Unfortunately for the people of Oxford, The Ball Green Door is currently on hiatus, so my runners up are The Rickety Press and Brasserie Blanc.

Best occasion dining: With a smart setting, excellent service and great food, Brasserie Blanc is another star in this category. The value its set menus offers means that it's fairly friendly on the pocket, too. The Ashmolean Dining Room certainly has an incomparable venue, but I wish its menu would change a little more often and that specials were on offer. For a one-off treat with the glamour factor, it's still got what it takes though.

Best pub: It's still got to be The Rickety Press for me!

Best cafe: So popular it's a challenge to get a table on weekend mornings, Oxfork is the city's most talked-about cafe with good reason. The food's a cut above usual offerings: a full English here is no greasy spoon affair, but a locally-sourced, lovingly-prepared treat. The quirky setting helps, but I find friendly but erratic the best way to describe the service. Skip brunch if you want a more relaxing experience and come here for coffee and homemade cake instead. I'm also a big fan of the cute pop-up cafes at East Oxford Farmers' Market, including The Moving Teashop.

Best budget: Red Star wins for me hands down. If I ever want something cheap, filling and quick, this is where I go. No frills, but then you don't pay for them either.

Best service: Looking back over the past year, La Cucina stands out for me. Our waitress was helpful and polite yet friendly without being informal: perfect. She made sure to talk us through the specials, and was happy to explain a couple of menu items to our group.

So, there you have my latest batch of top picks. Let's see what year two brings...

One year

Today marks one year since the official start of my Girl Eats Oxford project. Since then, I've reviewed 42 eateries in around the city; eaten very well; seen more of my friends; gained a few pounds weight-wise and lost a few money-wise. I've also learned a lot about what exactly makes a restaurant experience 'good'.

I make no secret of the fact that I'm no 'food critic'. I'm an ordinary girl who likes dining out a possibly extraordinary amount. Like most other restaurant customers, I enjoy well-priced, well-presented dishes at a decent price. And if the atmosphere's friendly and inviting and the service good, so much the better. Sounds simple enough, but it always doesn't seem to be the easiest formula to recreate.

Fortunately, I've had mostly positive experiences of dining in Oxford. When I began this blog, I imagined that I could eat at most of the restaurants I was recommended in 12 months. One year on, I feel as though I could easily continue this project for several years: there are still so many cafes, pubs and restaurants to explore. So, I've decided to continue my mission for as long as I remain in the city. After all, there's still plenty to eat - and report back. 

Reviewing restaurants makes you look at dining out differently. Every detail matters: from being greeted and seated to paying up, visiting a restaurant is an experience. While the food's usually the main event (antics with carpets notwithstanding), it's not just about what's on the menu. The material the table cloth's made of? I noticed it. The Christmas decorations still on display in February? I made a note of them. The lack of salt and pepper on the table didn't get past me either. But don't worry, I also saw the specials board and the selection of spirits behind the bar. Oh, and the waiter's smile.

Based on all these hawk-eyed observations, here are a few lessons I've learned over the past year.

1) Service matters
Sounds obvious, doesn't it. Treat customers well and they'll not only return, they'll probably recommend the restaurant to their friends too. So it's worth putting a little effort in to make a good impression. Indifferent service I can cope with; having to ask for a menu five minutes after being seated or waiting for half an hour for the table to be cleared when a restaurant isn't even busy, less so. I find I'm much more likely to return somewhere with decent food and friendly service than somewhere with excellent food where I've received below-par treatment. Timely service and a smile goes a really long way.
2) Salt belongs in a cellar
Those tea-light holders brimming with sea salt sure look cute, but remember what your mum told you about the nuts on a pub bar. Yep, your fingers aren't the first to touch those crystals.
3) Comprehension is key
If customers can't understand half the dishes on a menu, they feel intimidated. Enquiring after the odd ingredient or fancily-named sauce is fine, but trying to decipher a series of dishes that may as well have been inscribed in a foreign tongue isn't. Pretension has no place on a menu either: if you mean chips, say so. Everyone knows what you mean by 'chipped potato' anyway. You're fooling nobody.
4) Background noise
An empty restaurant is about as inviting as dinner with a dictator. Atmosphere isn't easy to create and there's no real substitute for the hum of a restaurant buzzing with diners, but some well-chosen music helps. Or even just some music. Nobody wants to feel like they're eating in a library.
5) Decor shouldn't stop at the dining room door
Customers also judge that other room they visit. I can't say I've been tempted to write separate reviews for the little girls' rooms (this site has it covered anyway), but everyone notices a bad bathroom. A lick of paint, some basic cleanliness and paper are the minimum; decent paper towels rather than a greying cotton one and a supply of fragrant handwash that doesn't bear a supermarket own brand label elevate a bathroom's status significantly. How to raise the bathroom bar even higher? Just add hand cream.

'And what about the restaurants themselves?', I hear you cry. 'Which is your favourite?'
That, dear reader, will have to wait until next week when I list my top picks from the last year.


I've also learned a lot about blogging in the past year. If any ladies reading are keen to find out more about how to use blogs to promote yourself or your business, come down to Fe-line Women's Word of Mouth: How to be a shameless self-promoter event at the Phoenix Picturehouse Bar on 10 April at 8pm, where I'll be sharing the wisdom of my experience alongside Jo, Fe-line's organizer and marketing professional.

My mission: 3 months to go

When I began my Girl Eats Oxford project in April 2011, the idea of eating in and reviewing one Oxford establishment per week seemed doable. Daunting, but also doable. In many ways, my first naive thought was right: it's certainly possible to dine out once every 7 days, but finding the time to review is sometimes tougher. This isn't the real challenge, though. The problem is that by the end of March I'll only have scratched the surface of Oxford's restaurant scene.

This came as something of a surprise. As the city is frequently labelled a 'culinary desert', I had an ill-considered idea that it would be possible to review the majority of the restaurants worth visiting in 12 months. How wrong I was. Nine months in, I've eaten at around 40 different establishments - with much better results than you'd expect of a gastronomic wasteland. So far, so good. But the list of recommendations still to visit numbers over 40.

Will I continue my project for another year? I thought I'd let you decide: if you're keen to keep reading, please leave a comment below or get in touch via Twitter or Facebook. Whatever happens, I've decided to celebrate the end of the year with a dinner at the top-scoring restaurant of the project. So far, the only perfect 10 has been awarded to The Ball Green Door supper club, but with the chef currently away and its future uncertain, there's everything to play for. Please keep your suggestions coming, as comments, emails, Tweets or Facebook posts. And if you'd like to join me for dinner at the end of March, please email me your details.

The Ball Green Door may have scooped the top score so far, but I've discovered plenty of other favourites. For the most part, my top picks from my six-month anniversary still apply: Santorini, Al Shami and the Magic Cafe remain some of my most enjoyable experiences. Since September, I've also had excellent experiences at Oxfork, La Cucina and No1 Folly Bridge.

Who knows what else I'll discover in the final 3 months of my mission? For January, I'll be focusing on budget eats, with the results revealed on BBC Radio Oxford on 10 February. Following reader suggestions, I'll also be trying out more cafes, date-friendly restaurants and family-friendly spots. As ever, if you have any suggestions for me, let me know!

Thanks for reading and happy new year.

Oxfork

Any Oxford resident who likes their grub will have heard of Oxfork by now. Unless you're a Twitterphobe with selective deafness when it comes to word of mouth, you'll no doubt know that the former pop-up restaurant converted 39 Magdalen Road into a café over summer, firmly cementing this corner of East Oxford as the city's new go-to gastro destination.

Tellingly, the hype behind the venture wasn't generated by those behind Oxfork, but largely by those excited by the prospect of a cosy but chic café serving well-prepared seasonal dishes sourced from local suppliers. Trendy East Oxford types may like to shop and eat local, but if they can do so in a quirkily-decorated, relaxed venue, so much the better.

Visiting on its opening weekend, it was clear that the hype had worked: by the time I turned up on Saturday lunchtime, the demand-supply balance was looking a bit precarious. The cheery staff were rolling with it admirably though; one of the chefs even delivered our order and apologized for the delay. Oxfork's brunches and lunches were clearly in demand.

Although I love the idea of brunch, as a vegetarian who used to pretend to be allergic to eggs as a child, such was my hatred of them, the options available often leave me a little cold. Thankfully for me, although Oxfork's menu is an egg-lover's delight (benedict, royale, scrambled, poached, in a sandwich...), there are a number of other choices for the less enamoured: a vegetarian breakfast, a variety of treats on toast and porridge. And as brunchtime runs into lunchtime (no noon cut off point here), I was also able to pick from the daily lunch menu. From the short selection of dishes chalked on the board, I opted for the potato and thyme soup with wild mushrooms (£4), while S went for eggs florentine (£7.50). Perusing the menu, I was struck by the price of the egg dishes: £7.50 seems pretty steep, especially when you consider that the Oxfork breakfast (sausage, bacon, fried egg, beans, slow-roast tomato, mushrooms and sourdough bread) is the same price. Still, there's no denying the quality of the ingredients: all the eggs used are free-range, sourced from a farm near Witney.

The Ball Green Door

You'd expect a top dining destination to be fully booked on a Friday night, and The Ball Green Door was no exception. With four courses on offer for just £25 and a friendly atmosphere, you can certainly understand the appeal. But where is this people- and pocket-pleasing restaurant? I can't tell you, I'm afraid.

A dining phenomenon that has taken London by storm, supper clubs (or underground restaurants) are gradually extending their reach across the UK. Either held at the homes of keen amateur cooks (or sometimes professional chefs) or organized in unusual spaces, these pop-up dining destinations take many forms. They all have one thing in common though: the ability to bring strangers together over a shared love of food. Some supper clubs are regular, while others, including Oxford's Ball Green Door, are more sporadic, but all must be booked in advance. After perusing a menu, diners either purchase tickets in advance or email to secure a place before their destination is revealed to them: shrouded in secrecy due to their lack of licence, supper clubs should appeal to all those mystery lovers who like a side of the unknown with their steak.

Taking advantage of the Ball Green Door's last date for this year, N and I booked tickets for a  Friday night. For £25 including a welcome drink, the price compared favourably with Oxford's restaurants: but unlike visiting a restaurant, we weren't quite sure what to expect. After attending two very different supper clubs (Fernandez & Leluu and The Shed) while living in London, I wasn't a complete novice, but as each experience is unique, shaped by the host's ideas and tastes, I was excited to see how an Oxford take on the phenomenon measured up.

Arriving at our destination, we were welcomed by friendly waitresses and presented with a sloe gin sling. The softly-lit room was buzzing with chatter as strangers broke the conversational ice, aided by a sip of alcohol. We took our seats on one of three tables of six and introduced ourselves to our table mates: a couple and 2 brave solo diners. Communal dining sets supper clubs apart from a traditional restaurant experience: although many people attend in pairs or small groups, over-dinner conversation is the norm. Sometimes this takes the form of awkward and stilted chit-chat; sometimes common ground is found, laughs had and issues debated. Fortunately, the latter was the case at The Ball Green Door, and I can safely say that it's the friendliest supper club I've attended to date.

Beetroot and horseradish blinis

Our starter of beetroot and horseradish blinis sprinkled with poppy seeds was an ideal entree: light, tasty and fresh, it was enough to whet the palate and tantalize us with a hint of what was to come without being too filling. Timing was impeccable; we had just enough time to chat and relax before the next course appeared. Slow-cooked beef shank osso bucco for the meat eaters and stuffed portabello mushrooms for the veggies, the mains were served with a chunky potato gremolata and green beans. Despite the generous portion size, our table polished their dishes off in record time: the meat was tender and slid off the bone, melting in the mouth, while the mushrooms had a robust quality and were so flavoursome I put aside my reservations regarding stuffed vegetables. In fact, I may even be a convert: the rich tomato sauce certainly packed a punch and with its help the mushrooms made for a satisfying main.

Beef shank

Stuffed mushrooms

Sufficiently stuffed with two delicious courses and oiled with the wine our tablemates kindly shared with us, there was time to rest and chat about every imaginable topic: we even covered those dinner party disaster areas of politics and religion without any kind of disagreement occurring. This triumph was possibly surpassed by the dessert, though. Chef Charlotte's pear and frangipane tart with masala chai ice cream was, as N declared, 'the winner'. The delicate flavours of the poached fruit and the frangipane, the perfectly made pastry and the subtle spice of the homemade ice cream made this a moreish pudding I'd be happy to see on a restaurant menu.

Pear and frangipane tart - this photo does it no justice!

Wrapping up the evening with Oxord Blue cheese served with rowan berry jelly followed by coffee and homemade chocolates, our table concluded that good supper clubs have the edge over restaurants. Attending one is risky, though: unlike a restaurant, you can't be quite sure what you're going to get at a supper club. A keen chef is presumably not always a good chef, you need only watch an audition episode of the X Factor to see that some people's belief in their own talent is sorely misplaced. Although food and venue are key factors, your fellow diners are the biggest gamble of all: the people who share your table have the power to make or break the experience. Luckily for us, our tablemates were excellent company; fun and easy to talk to. After a lovely evening of well-cooked, unfussy but excellently executed food in interesting company, I realized that the best supper clubs combine the ease and sense of occasion of dining out with the convivial, relaxed atmosphere of a friend's home. And with prices lower than most restaurants and a bring your own policy, their appeal in these financially hard times is understandable. In an age where independent restaurants often have to fight for survival as town centres are engulfed by chains, supper clubs are putting the personal touch into dining.

Verdict: 10.
I wasn't sure I'd ever give anywhere full marks, but the food, setting, service and company at The Ball Green Door were worth it.

Unfortunately we attended the last dinner at The Ball Green Door for the foreseeable future, but keep checking their Facebook page for updates. To find out more about our evening The Ball Green Door and other 'dining with a difference' ideas, tune in to my slot on Jo Thoenes's show on BBC Radio Oxford on Friday 28 October from 1pm. I'll be discussing other supper clubs in Oxfordshire, as well as some other unusual dining destinations. You can listen here.

The Moving Teashop at East Oxford Farmers' Market

Perched on a child-sized chair in the arts and crafts room, sipping from a dainty cup of tea, I felt like a schoolgirl playing house. East Oxford Primary School might not be your usual Saturday morning brunch venue, but after my visit to The Moving Teashop at East Oxford Farmers' and Community Market, it might soon become a regular fixture in my calendar.

Every Saturday morning since 2006, the market has been selling produce sourced from within 30 miles of Oxford, in addition to books, clothing and crafts. With a rotation of stalls, shoppers can pick up daily essentials from fresh bread to fruit and vegetables to meat. On my first visit, the stalls filling the school hall included takeaway sushi, fruit and veg, locally-reared veal, homemade cakes and artisan breads and tarts. More local than I realised possible, Tiddly Pommes apple juice is made from fruit grown in East Oxford. With the varieties on offer changing with the seasons, owner Rupert offers tastings of the different blends. Completely unlike the sugary, synthetic supermarket stuff, these juices were complex and delicious, and despite not usually being an apple juice fan, I took home a £3 bottle of the East Oxford 'Discovery' blend, made from fruit grown in a garden in Iffley. There's something incredibly appealing about buying produce from your own postcode area, especially when it tastes far better than anything the chains have to offer.

For those looking to satisfy their hunger immediately as well as for ingredients to prepare at home, there's a weekly cafe located in the school's arts and crafts room. Different groups take charge of the kitchen area each week, but one of the most frequent hosts of this corner of the market is The Moving Teashop. Run by two sisters, one a Leiths-trained chef and the other a baking and tea aficionado, The Moving Teashop serves up tempting brunch dishes washed down with cups of their own blend of tea (a mixture of English breakfast and Earl Grey), sipped from vintage china teacups.

On our visit, options included Boycott Farm ham and potato hash with a fried egg (£5) and mushrooms with cream, lemon and garlic on sourdough toast (£4). I opted for herb and spinach pancakes with lime butter, sweetcorn salad and roasted tomato sauce (£4.50), while C chose a slice of the butternut squash, pine nut and feta tart with salad (£3.50). Cups of tea (£1 including free refills) in hand, we took a seat at a child-height communal table. Couples, families and ladies who brunch did likewise, leafing through copies of the Saturday papers as they tucked into their food. Despite the presence of the papers and the retro floral tablecloths, C and I couldn't shake the feeling we were back at school. Surrounded by arts and crafts projects, it was like taking a step back to our childhoods.

School dinners certainly never tasted this good. My pancakes were light, fluffy and full of flavour. They aren't something I'd usually allow into my mental 'healthy' category, but these spinach-packed pancakes tasted nutritious rather than artery-clogging. The lime butter was unusual and tasty, adding an extra dimension, while the roasted tomato sauce and sweetcorn salad were ideal complements.

Herb and spinach pancakes

Squash and feta tart

C's tart was another success: a classic combination of autumn flavours, the pine nuts added extra crunch. Also on offer were a selection of delicious-looking cakes, including a traditional Victoria sponge with homemade raspberry and strawberry jam but we'd had our fill for the day: sweet treats will have to wait for next time.

With a variety of seasonal, tasty brunch options prepared before your eyes and the chance to drink tea from vintage china, The Moving Teashop is a winner in my eyes. The unusual venue only adds to the attraction, as does the fact that you're supporting a local venture and eating local produce rather than frequenting a restaurant chain. Other regular cafes include the Pop Up Cafe run by Kim and Ingrid and the market cafe run by Martha and John, which uses vegetables grown on their allotment, so I'll have to return to see what they have to offer. If you live in Oxford, the market is well worth a visit - and if you go with an appetite, so much the better.

Verdict: 9/10

East Oxford Farmers' Market is at East Oxford Primary School, behind Cowley Road Tesco, and runs from 10am to 1pm each Saturday. Click here for details of their stalls. The Moving Teashop will return on 1st October.

The Ashmolean Dining Room: Autumn/winter menu

Can you ever be too discreet? In these financially hard times, it seems that almost everyone bar footballers and Z-list celebrities now subscribe to the maxim that less is more. And while I'm definitely of the opinion that these two groups would do well to get on board with this trend, I also think that the Ashmolean Dining Room could blow it's own trumpet a little louder. Not so loud as to be vulgar, you understand: just enough to be audible and to make its presence felt on the Oxford restaurant scene.

As part of the Ashmolean's extensive re-fit which culminated in 2009, the museum not only gained extra gallery space: it also acquired a rooftop restaurant. A swish, understated space looking out across the Randolph and beyond, the Dining Room has an ample terrace (shame it's in a country lacking ample summers) and even a patch of be-deck-chaired grass for those who fancy an al fresco aperitif of an evening. With a seasonal menu of British and European fare, the Ashmolean Dining Room makes a much-needed contribution to dining in the OX1 postcode: or at least it would, if more people actually realized it was there.

When one of my Twitter followers drew my attention to a new menu tasting and 'networking' evening event at the Dining Room, I put my name down almost as quickly as Peter Andre signs up to the opening of a letter. Although my curiosity hadn't yet been piqued sufficiently to make it through that discreet entrance on St Giles, I had caught the odd murmur that the restaurant was worth a visit. Expecting an hour of bite-size portions on a buffet table and a spot of mingling, I was surprised when our party of six was shown to a table, glasses of prosecco in hand. The one copy of the autumn/winter menu we were given revealed we were in for an evening of sampling a balance of hearty, comforting dishes and lighter, Mediterranean-inspired fare.

Starters

Cauliflower and pine nut salad

 Cauliflower isn't the most common salad ingredient, and dare I say rightly so: the salad of cauliflower and pine nuts with a raisin and caper dressing was universally judged under-seasoned, and I found the cold cauliflower a little undercooked. Much better use was made of this winter vegetable in the thick, creamy cauliflower and truffle oil soup. Served in a vintage teacup, this thick, creamy number was sophisticated cold-weather comfort food, the truffle oil enhancing rather than overpowering the taste of the cauliflower.

Crab panna cotta

Creativity certainly has its place in the kitchen, but sometimes the quality of the ingredients should do the talking. This was definitely the case when it came to the ill-judged crab panna cotta: the glutinous cream tasted of crab on first bite, but when applied to the accompanying toast it lost all flavour. As T pointed out, it was made with the crab's white meat rather than the more flavoursome brown meat, and I understand why - who wants a brown panna cotta? The brown crab meat served on a chicory leaf atop the glass was much tastier, proving that simplicity can pay off.

Gravadlax

I'm not usually a gravadlax fan, but the Ashmolean's home-cured gravadlax with cucumber relish and a chive creme fraiche may have changed that. A further testament to the powers of simplicity, the flavours combined well and the quality of the smoked salmon stood out. Usually served with rye bread, this would be quite a substantial starter.

Serrano ham & figs

I couldn't try the meaty starters of serrano ham and figs with chardonnay vinegar and honey syrup or Trealy Farm air-dried ham with a celeriac remoulade, but my companions attested to the taste of both. Opinions were divided over preferred hams: M praised the contrast between the sweet figs and the salty serrano ham while S went into raptures over the remoulade. L was more prosaic: apparently the mini gherkins lifted the dish, 'otherwise it was just a plate of fancy ham and coleslaw'.

 I was very pleased I was able to eat the grilled squid marinated in lemon, garlic and smoked paprika and served with a rocket salad (also available as a main course). In Spain, squid is usually kept simple, so I wouldn't have thought to add the paprika, but its subtle, woody flavour made the dish. The excellent quality squid did all the ground work of course, but the spice stole the show and made it a universal favourite at our table.



Main courses

Pearl barley with wild mushrooms

As a pescetarian, one of my main gripes is the lack of inventive vegetarian main courses on the menus of many upmarket restaurants. So when I spotted a main of sauteed pearl barley with wild mushrooms, leeks and spinach, I had high hopes for the Ashmolean: and I wasn't disappointed. Another winner, this filling autumnal dish was understated yet full of flavour. T suggested it was merely a posh take on that veggie staple, mushroom risotto, but I disagreed - for me, the pearl barley took the dish to a different dimension.

The chargrilled bream with glazed lemon chicory and lime creme fraiche was served whole, and although to M it was one of the most appetising dishes on the menu, to me it looked like a plate of grey (hence the lack of photo). It was simple and well done, and although I remained unconvinced (sometimes a whole fish is just too fussy), everyone else polished it off with gusto. The lamb rump with chargrilled vegetables and a black olive jus was another hit: the meat-eaters were divided between this and the bream when it came
to favourites. The jus had a strong flavour which lifted rather than  overpowered the dish, and the vegetables were a well-judged complement.

More successful for me was the salad of candied beetroot and spiced pecans topped with a goat's cheese fritter. Perhaps better off as a starter (although presumably the salad will be beefed up for paying guests), this was an excellent flavour combination, with the beetroot adding an earthy tang to the dish and the pecans contributing a crunch (and tasting 'of German Christmas', according to S. Very seasonal, then).

The sole meuniere was another dud for me: bony and unappetising, I passed this one on quickly. The braised rabbit leg served with savoy cabbage, roasted carrots and a mustard and tarragon sauce was fairly well-received among the carnivores, but the monkfish tail saltimbocca got a universal thumbs down: a strange cut of monkfish served with a few carrots that brought nothing to the party.




Desserts

After eating our way through the entire menu bar the rib-eye steak, I'm a firm believer in the existence of the pudding stomach. Somehow we found room for panna cotta with a cassis poached pear: the cassis was barely discernible, but the panna cotta was perfect in consistency and flavour. Simple but effective, this dessert was one of the most memorable dishes for me.

The Paris Brest (choux pastry filled with hazelnut cream) was perhaps more of an afternoon cake than an after-dinner dessert, but it was beautiful: rich and creamy with excellent pastry. A whole one may have been a little too much, but A and I were more than happy to devour half each.

The chocolate and amaretti sponge may not have impressed visually, but the taste was spot on: the subtle aftertaste of amaretti even won over almond-avoiding M, and T praised the crispy amaretti crust, which brought an unusual textural element.






With some well-judged, skilfully prepared seasonal fare, the Ashmolean Dining Room's autumn/winter menu offers more than a few worthwhile options. There were definitely a few dud dishes and others that disappointed slightly among the starters and the mains, but those that were kept simple and based around successful flavour combinations really stood out. As for the desserts, there wasn't a let-down in sight, although the prices are somewhat steep at £6-7: in my opinion, desserts should stay around the £5 mark. In general, prices are what you would expect of a rooftop restaurant, perhaps slightly less: starters range from £6-8, while mains go from £11 to £19 for the steak. It's not cheap, but the sophisticated setting makes the Ashmolean ideal for a celebration yet accessible enough for a slightly special occasion. In my opinion, the weekend counts as one of those. Next time you walk past that discreet entrance on St Giles, consider stepping inside: you won't be disappointed (as long as you avoid the crab panna cotta). And a bit of word-of-mouth marketing wouldn't go amiss either: just don't tell Peter Andre, will you?


Update September 2011: Returning to the Ashmolean as a guest on a 'normal' evening, the quality of the food was possibly better than that on offer at the new menu tasting. I chose a starter of  smoked paprika squid, and was again impressed by the taste - and this time, I got a generous portion all to myself. The pearl barley was just as good as I remembered, and the panna cotta even better: this time the pear was discernibly poached in cassis. Choose carefully from the menu and enjoy.

Verdict: 8

The Ashmolean Dining Room is at the Ashmolean Museum, OX1 2PH. Open Sun, Tues & Weds 10am-6pm and Thurs-Sat 10am-10pm. Tel: 01865 553823.

Edamame: sushi night

When someone suggests eating a chunk of raw fish, you either smile or squirm. Until my visit to Edamame's sushi night, I was definitely in the latter camp. Although I'm a pescetarian whose range extends beyond cod and who isn't averse to grappling with a king prawn on occasion, the thought of tucking into uncooked salmon, tuna or even squid didn't exactly fill me with joy. But in the interest of research, I paid a second visit to Japanese restaurant Edamame on Thursday to sample their raw offerings.

Prior to this experience, the only types of sushi I could identify were sashimi (chunks of raw fish) and norimaki, commonly known as California rolls (tiny pieces of fish wrapped in rice and held together by an outside layer of dried seaweed). There was far more on offer than this, though: I let my sushi pro dining companions K, L and S talk me through the menu, and before long we had an array of beautifully-presented plates of nigiri (small  blocks of slightly sweetened sushi rice topped with salmon and tuna - we passed on the octopus and squid this time), gunkan (sushi rice rolled into little 'boats' wrapped in seaweed and topped with salmon and tuna with leeks, salmon eggs or avocado), temaki (also known as hand rolls: sushi rice rolled into small cones and filled with tuna and cucumber with mayonnaise, shredded cucumber or pickled daikon radish) and a special of spicy tuna rolls.

Gunkanzushi

Ngirizushi

Spicy tuna rolls

Norimakizushi

Sashimi

Temakizushi

Being more than a little inept with chopsticks, sushi posed another elegant eating difficulty, but the fact that it seemed acceptable to deposit whole pieces of maki in your mouth at once definitely helped. I started at the less scary end of the scale with a piece of tuna maki, but dipping it in the provided soy sauce, wasabi or ginger was a step too far for my clumsy mitts. Fortunately, it had just enough flavour by itself, which was more than I could say for my next choice, a piece of tuna ngiri. The salmon variety was topped with a small chunk of orange, infusing it with a delicious citrus taste and receiving particular praise from S, who had never seen it served this way in her former home city, sushi-loving London.

Sipping on my cup of rich-tasting miso soup, I pondered my next move. Suitably impressed with the taste of raw fish so far, I chose a spicy tuna roll and wasn't disappointed: there was no dipping or dunking required to produce a delicious depth of flavour, perfect for cack-handed individuals like myself. A Californian temaki (filled with tuna mayonnaise) seemed an easy bet, as the alternative name 'hand roll' implies that it's fine to get your paws involved. However, its dried seaweed wrapping was a little tougher than I anticipated: tasty, but not pretty. The avocado gunkan was a fish-free interlude (plenty of vegetarian sushi is available at Edamame) before my grand finale: a piece of salmon sashimi. Probably the most emblematic and the most intimidating style of sushi for novices to get to grips with, I understood the scariness of sashimi, but was pleased to discover it tasted rich with a smooth texture as opposed to slimy, as I feared. The quality of the fish is clearly high at Edamame, winning praise from my sushi pro friends.

So, sushi isn't so scary after all. In fact, it's pretty tasty. Light and fresh, sushi is ideal for a summer supper, especially accompanied with some miso soup and edamame beans. I can't say I'm a definite convert, but next time someone suggests sushi, I'll agree rather than making my excuses. And who knows, I may even pluck up the courage to try some squid next time.


You can listen to me talking about my experience of sushi and about other places to eat fish in Oxford on Jo Thoenes' show on BBC Radio Oxford on 29 July here.

Edamame is at 15 Holywell Street, OX1 3SA. Sushi night is every Thursday from 5 to 8.30pm. No reservations are accepted, and it's deservedly popular, so arriving early is advised.

Lovely photos copyright Sarah Haynes of The Pea's Kneas.

The Rickety Press

Pubs just used to be pubs. Places you'd go in for a drink or two, maybe some unfussy British grub if you were hungry. How things have changed. Popping out for a pie and a pint is a complicated business nowadays. Do you favour a classic old man pub, a tarted up pub with fancy decor, or a pub so gastro it may as well be termed a restaurant? On most nights, you'll find me somewhere in the middle of this complex camp: I like a pub to be a place you can just dive into for a drink rather than somewhere you feel you have to dine to be welcome - and if you do wish to tuck in, you shouldn't have to book in. Some tasteful decor and friendly staff never go amiss, either. Fussy? Nah, not me.

The second Oxford offering from the team behind the successfully transformed Rusty Bicycle, the former Radcliffe Arms in Jericho has emerged from its scampi-and-sports ashes as The Rickety Press. With a smart yet relaxed interior featuring plenty of tastefully arranged books, navy and cream walls and a light-filled conservatory with fresh flowers on wooden tables, The Rickety Press falls on the gastro side of things, but is still very much a pub. So far, so up my street. Opened in May, there isn't yet a wine list, but staff happily talked us through the wines on offer, and the choice of real ales and cider was enough to satisfy all of our party. Thirst quenched, it was time for some sustenance.

Making our way into the conservatory, four menus were quickly rustled up. With a seasonal, daily changing menu featuring the best of British produce, The Rickety Press has its finger very much on the gastro pulse. On our visit, there were 5 starters and 6 mains on offer - just enough choice, but no difficult decision-making. In a nod to summer, I opted for gazpacho (£5) followed by the vegetarian main option, a less seasonal-sounding squash, feta, spinach and pine nut pithivier (pastry) with cauliflower puree (£11).

Starters arrived promptly and were dispatched with speedily: G's ham hock and pea salad with tarragon dressing, topped with a perfectly-cooked poached egg (£5) was a hit, with the oozing egg and the light-tasting dressing receiving particular praise. B (who I must point out has rather exacting standards) opted for the confit duck salad with mango and pomegranate (£6), a beautifully-presented summery starter. Receiving an almost record-setting 8.5 out of 10 from B, the smokiness of the duck contrasted excellently with the sweetness of the fruit, and the spring onions and herbs added to the fresh taste combination. My gazpacho (served with fresh bread) was also fresh tasting and light, with a slightly spicy aftertaste, but I have to say that it paled in comparison with the gazpacho I sampled in Seville last month. Made by a friend's mum and served from a plastic bottle, its presentation was decidedly less elegant than the Rickety Press version, but its flavour was spot on. The pub kitchen isn't fortunate enough to benefit from the help of Pedro's mother, but their interpretation was tasty nonetheless, if a bit thicker than the classic Spanish soup.

Ham hock salad

Confit duck salad

Gazpacho

If the ham hock salad was well-received, G's main course of baked lemon sole fillets with new potatoes, brown shrimps and watercress (£13) was the culinary equivalent of Pippa Middleton: a surprise hit. As he pointed out, it's not exactly easy to make a stand-out dish out of fish, but The Rickety Press pulled it off - I should know, I couldn't resist having a nibble after G slipped into sole-induced rapture. Lightly breaded with a slightly crispy topping, the flaky fish was perfectly cooked and almost melted in the mouth, its buttery sauce adding a creamy touch without being at all heavy.

Lemon sole fillets - 10/10

Having passed on a starter, N tucked into the Rickety burger (£11), topped with cheddar and onion relish and served in a homemade seeded bun. It also came with sides of string chips and a dressed rocket and radish salad. N's not exactly an unfussy lady either, but she rated the burger an impressive 9: cooked medium as requested, the meat was excellent quality, well-complemented by the rich taste of the cheese and the homemade relish - just sweet enough but not overpowering. The string chips weren't remotely stringy; they were crisp, golden and a bit too popular with the rest of the table.

Rickety burger & string chips

B's chicken, leek and mushroom pie (£11) tasted 'properly homemade, like something your mum would make' (a generic mum rather than mine specifically, her forte is potatoes), with good quality chunks of chicken 'rather than old scraggly bits' (although she later found a small amount of gristle, she would like me to point out). The sprouting broccoli looked more green than purple, but was tasty nonetheless, and the mash also received high praise - no lumps here.

Chicken, leek and mushroom pie

My pithivier may not have looked like the most exciting dish of the bunch, but the dome of homemade puff pastry was filled with a beautiful combination of summery flavours. The classic pairing of creamy feta and spinach worked perfectly with the appetite-satisfying butternut squash.

Squash, feta & pine nut pithivier

In the name of research, N and I managed to find space for a chocolate fondant served with homemade vanilla ice cream (£5). Our admirable effort was rewarded: it was delicious, a puddle of dark melted chocolate oozing out of the spongy centre. I'm not ashamed to admit I almost fought N for the last bite.

With a laid-back, friendly atmosphere, young and helpful staff and a strong, well-priced menu, The Rickety Press deserves to be a success. The restaurant quality food was some of the best I've had in a while, but there's none of the pretension that sometimes accompanies the gastro tag. This is definitely still a pub. Let's hope it stays that way.

Rating: 9

The Rickety Press is at 67 Cranham Street, Jericho, OX2 6DS. Tel: 01865 424581.

Santorini (Kalamata)

 Update: As of 2012, Santorini has changed its name to Kalamata. Under the same management. See below for updated review.

If you're looking for the taste of summer on a plate, Santorini's your restaurant. Step off Cowley Road into its pillared confines and you might as well be on holiday. Although moussaka and meaty main dishes keep Greek food on the British radar during winter, its emphasis on ingredients such as feta cheese, peppers, rice, spinach and tomato mean that it really comes into its own during the excuse for an English summer that is June, July and August.

Shared food also seems much more tempting in the summer somehow, no doubt reminding me of sociable evenings in Seville, ordering plate after plate of tapas washed down with tinto de verano. On a warm evening in Santorini, the four of us decided to bypass the (excellent-sounding) mains and ordered 8 mezze, dipping into both the hot and cold sections of the menu. Assuming there was something missing from the listings, we requsted a certain chickpea-based dip from the waiter. 'We don't do houmous. We're Greek,' he announced, to our great puzzlement. In case you're interested, internet research informs me that houmous is actually Middle Eastern in origin, but no matter where it's from, it still goes down a treat as a pre-dinner nibble.

We stopped the minor houmous-related sulk as soon as the mezze arrived, though. Eight substantial portions and a basket of oil and oregano-dressed bread filled the table and had us diving for our cutlery ready to dig in.

The rice-filled vine leaves were perfectly divisible between our party of 4 and came on a bed of salad, topped with a healthy dollop of tzatziki, a refreshingly light yet creamy yoghurt, cucumber and mint dip. The sizeable helpings continued with the gigantes plaki, baked butter beans in a rich tomato, onion and parsley sauce with a touch of chilli, infusing the beans with flavour. Also full of flavour was the spanakotiropita (spinach and feta pie), its pastry thankfully avoiding the sogginess sometimes resulting from the cheese and spinach combination.

Cheese dishes are an excellent choice at Santorini, as the kefalotiri saganaki proved. Deep-fried halloumi-style cheese may not be the most artery-friendly option on the menu, but it was definitely delicious, oozing oil but maintaining that signature chewy taste. Cheese also popped up in the garides saganaki, a tasty confection of prawns and feta baked in a tomato, white wine, garlic and parsley sauce - and once again, the cheese made the dish, adding a perfect contrast to the prawns. The theme continued with gemista piperies, tiny red peppers stuffed with feta and chilli and providing a deceptively miniature morsels. We managed to control the cheese craving for our final options, the roasted aubergine and tomato delight that was melitzanes imam balidi, a garlicky, herby dish slow-cooked to perfection, and patates yahni, oven-roasted potatoes served in a tomato sauce with onion, garlic and olive oil.

Full of fresh tastes, this delicious spread may have filled us up, but I'm hungry for more of what Santorini has to offer. With meze ranging from £3 to £4.75 (and our meal for 4 with 2 glasses of wine and a 10% service charge adding up to just £47), Santorini's just as good value as a holiday restaurant, with friendly service and a homely atmosphere thrown in for good measure. What more could you want?

Rating: 8.5/10

Santorini is at 126 Cowley Road, Oxford OX4 1JE. Tel: 01865 241260.

Update: I visited Kalamata in August 2012 and although the staff haven't changed, the menu has one important difference. Kalamata serves houmous. Interesting that a change of heart accompanies a change of name. I have to say I was far less impressed on my most recent visit: everything appeared too quickly and had a distinct feel of microwave. It's a shame as the food is still incredibly tasty, but inadequately reheated dishes aren't really good enough. We were also presented with bread we hadn't ordered and then charged for it. The waiter did remove the charge when we asked, but it added another sour note and meant that the 10% service charge really wasn't warranted. I'd be interested to know what experiences others have had there recently.

Al Shami

A residential Jericho sidestreet might not be the logical place to situate a Lebanese restaurant, but Al Shami's tucked-away location certainly hasn't done it any harm. Established in 1988, this smart but friendly place is a cut above the city's other Lebanese restaurants looks-wise: there are no gaudy window displays and shisha pipes on show here, just a ligh-filled room of traditional wooden furniture and white table cloths.

The menu begins with an extensive selection of meze (divided into hot and cold sections), with a selection of vegetarian and fish main courses and plenty of meaty numbers under the 'charcoal grill' heading. Although reasonably-priced vegetarian mains such as cracked wheat, lentils and fried onions served with yoghurt (£6.90) sounded interesting, there's nothing like a bit of variety, so we stuck with the meze.

As S had kindly agreed to renounce flesh for the evening, we opted for a dish of houmous and one of mohammara (a violently-coloured blend of crushed nuts red capiscum, olive oil and spices), a fattoush (mixed salad with herbs and toasted Lebanese bread), some fatayer sebanikh (pastries filled with spinach, onions, pine nuts and lemon juice), sanbousek biljibneh (feta-filled pastries) and some falafel. This may sound like more than two relatively small people could stomach, but given the delicious-sounding selection on the menu, it was a fairly restrained order.

Raw

Sipping a glass of Lebanese white wine as we waited, a platter of raw vegetables appeared in front of us. I'd call them crudites, but last time I checked, a whole green pepper and half a lettuce didn't fit into this category. An unusual addition to the table maybe, but an easy way to your five a day as long as you don't mind a bit of at-table chopping action.

Within a matter of minutes, the waiter whirled over with a tray of well-presented little dishes of vegetarian delights. All were a decent size for the price (between £2.50 and £3.50 each) - none of the thimble-sized portions so common in UK 'tapas' restaurants. The houmous was smooth and creamy and the mohammara just spicy enough; perfect smeared on chunks of fresh flatbread. An ideal summer dish, the fattoush was fresh and lemony tasting, with the crispy flakes of toasted bread adding substance. The falafel was a touch on the dry side for my taste, but slathered with houmous it was perfect. Both the pastries were surprisingly light and full of flavour - I thought that the fatayer may feel somewhat lacklustre without any cheese content, but the addition of pine nuts and lemon juice was definitely enough.

For just £28.50 for 2 people including 2 glasses of wine and a 10% service charge, our meal made me understand why Al Shami has been drawing customers to this corner of Jericho for over 20 years: it's a class act, without the hefty price tag.

Rating: 9


Al Shami is at 25 Walton Crescent, Oxford OX1 2JG. Tel: 01865 310066.

Edamame

I am a clumsy person. When it comes to hand to eye coordination, a one year old could probably teach me a thing or two. So eating with chopsticks was never going to come naturally to me. Caught up by the delicious-sounding dishes on Japanese restaurant Edamame's menu, I conveniently forgot to consider the difficulty of eating certain types of food with two wooden sticks, and managed to get myself in a bit of a mess. A tasty mess, but a mess nonetheless.

Apart from one experience of sushi several years ago which left me a little hungry, I hadn't tried any Japanese dishes before visiting Edamame. A one-room restaurant situated on Holywell Street, it offers 'Japanese home cooking', with sushi only available on Thursdays. Given Edamame's petite proportions and its popularity, it's a good idea to arrive early: 6pm may have seemed a tad keen, but when we left an hour later would-be diners were queuing out of the door. Earlybirds G and I had no such trouble, we were seated straight away on a little communal table. With its low ceilings and duck-egg blue walls, Edamame feels a little like someone's living room: relaxed and intimate.

The evening menu (available on Fridays and Saturdays) offers a choice of meat, fish and vegetable dishes (available either cooked in fish stock or vegetarian), as well as salads and side dishes. We ordered a portion of Edamame beans (podded green soy beans, £3) and some morokyu (cucumber sticks served with miso and Japanese plum pastes to dip, £3) to munch on while we waited for our mains. So far, so easy: no chopstick action was involved to polish either of these off. The cucumber sticks were well complemented by the nutty miso and sweet plum pastes, whetting our appetites for the main event. As I watched the couple sitting opposite us tucking in with their perfectly manipulated chopsticks, I started to question my choice of dish. Surely beansprouts and chopsticks were a match made in hell?

When my yasai tofu itame (vegetable stir fry of beansprouts, mange tout, baby corn, carrots and tofu cooked in fish stock, £6) and rice (£2) turned up, I bravely (but cackhandedly) got stuck in. Nobody else I could see had asked for a fork, so I was going to get this dish down my neck somehow. I can't say I exactly experienced chopstick enlightenment or ate particularly elegantly ('you have tofu on your lip', G informed me at one point), but it tasted so good that I ploughed on regardless: and half an hour later, I was done. I often find that stir fries can be oily, but this little number tasted light and fresh, slightly smoky and given substance by the tofu (a slippery customer when it comes to chopstick capture, by the way). The sticky rice was a good accompaniment, leaving me happily but not uncomfortably full. G's choice of Saturday's special, yaki niku beef (stir fry of thinly-sliced beef steak marinated in garlic, spices and sesame, £7.50) was so tasty it didn't hang around on his plate for long.

With fresh-tasting, high quality food on offer in a convivial environment, Edamame is well worth a try. I'd even put myself through a second chopstick trauma to sample more of the very reasonably-priced menu. Who knows, maybe it gets easier with practice?

Verdict: 9/10

Edamame is at 15 Holywell Street, OX1 3SA. No reservations. Check website for opening times and arrive early.

Atomic Burger

Behind a white picket fence on Cowley Road, there lies a pocket-sized restaurant serving big burgers. Open the gate, step inside and you'll see that this is no ordinary American diner: under a canopy of dangling superheroes, friendly staff weave between the packed tables, delivering quirkily-named platefuls to hungry customers. Welcome to Atomic Burger, a future Oxford institution.

Although the sci-fi themed burger bar only opened around eighteen months ago, it has already made its mark on the city's dining scene, becoming so popular that booking's even advisable on a school night. It's easy to see why: if the fun atmosphere and 80s nostalgia aren't reason enough, the tasty grub should win you round. Recently revamped, the new menu offers 22 different burgers with toppings to suit all tastes, from the plain and simple Forrest Gump (£6.75), to the spicy Johnny Cash (served with refried beans, hot sauce, American cheese and jalapenos, £8.75), to the freestyle - creative types can dream up their own burger toppings. Unlike most restaurants of its ilk, Atomic Burger gives diners the choice of making each burger on the menu beef, chicken or vegetarian; with veggies able to swap any meaty toppings for a flesh-free substitute. The chatty, knowledgeable staff will be happy to talk you through the options and advise doubtful diners. Should you be tempted to stray away from the burger path, hot dogs, ribs, salad and a pulled pork sandwich are also available, with milkshakes and soda floats rounding off the all-American offer.

Veggie Smokey & the Bandit with sci fries

I used to be a definite Forrest Gump girl, but this week I branched out in the name of research, opting for a vegetarian Smokey & the Bandit (cajun rub burger with grated cheddar, BBQ sauce and an onion ring, £8.95) with a side of garlic and chilli sci fries (included). With a smokey, subtle spicy taste and the gooey addition of the melted cheese, it was definitely a much tastier choice than the sometimes insipid vegetarian offerings at most burger bars. The sci fries were an ideal complement, adding an extra kick - spice lovers will be in their element.

Chicken Jake & Elwood with caesar salad

Atomic Burger's portions are generous and the ingredients good quality: my companion L even complimented their 'nice baps'. She tucked into a chicken Jake & Elwood (served with blue cheese, bacon and mushrooms, £8.75) with a mini caesar salad, while after much deliberation A plumped for a beef Fat Tony (with meatballs, pizza sauce and American cheese, £8.95). A short while later, with empty plates and full stomachs, we all admitted we'd probably be incapable of tackling Atomic's Godzilla Challenge, a man versus food gaunlet which requires brave (or foolhardy) participants to devour a triple burger with triple cheese, firey Godzilla sauce and triple chilli fries in one hour. One name on the mirrored wall of fame had accomplished this feat in an astounding 7 minutes.

Brownie Sundae

If you can make room for afters (unlikely after a Godzilla Challenge, but who knows), Atomic offers American-style desserts such as a pie of the week, waffles and our tasty choice of Finger-a-Fudge Brownie Sundae, a chocolate brownie served with vanilla ice cream, caramel sauce, cream and a fudge finger. Other sweet treats appear on the new breakfast menu (available daily from 10-12), with offerings such as the Snoopy & Woodstock Pancakes (blueberry or chocolate pancakes served with maple syrup and butter, £5.45) sure to tempt me through the little white gate again before long.

As Atomic Burger says, 'great burgers ain't rocket science'. That may be true, but they're certainly a welcome addition to Oxford. And with the restaurant's popularity only likely to increase with the introduction of the fun sticker book loyalty scheme, long may Atomic's reign over the Cowley Road continue.

Verdict: 9/10

Atomic Burger is at 96 Cowley Road, Oxford OX4 1JE. Tel: 01865 790855. Booking recommended.