La Porte Des Indes
La Porte Des Indes (32 Bryanston Street. London WC1H 7EG) is part of The Blue Elephant empire that spreads halfway across the globe. Unlike its Thai counterpart, however, Porte only has outlets in London and Brussels. Like its Fulham cousin, La Porte Des Indes has a rather uninspiring exterior, only to reveal a lusciously detailed interior with lots of greenery and post-colonial décor. In fact, were it not situated a couple of blocks west of Selfridges, this is the kind of place you might imagine your 1920s white linen-suited doppelgänger spending those lazy Sunday afternoons.
La Porte serves a jazz buffet brunch on Sundays. This being father's day, it's only fitting that we should stuff ourselves for the benefit of our paternal ancestors. The buffet is somewhat inconveniently spread over two floors, with starters downstairs and mains and desserts upstairs. The exercise might do you good, though. Now, I must admit I can't remember what any of these things are called, but it was all very good. Particular praise goes to the biryaini, which was neither too dry nor too greasy. A spherical flour pastry that a chef pokes with a needle and fills with a mint and coriander sauce is also interesting, and out of the desserts, the gulab jamoon, normally a syrupy, diabetes-inducing lump of flour, was excellent, and not too sweet at all. But the best thing was the chilled mango soup. Smooth, strained mango, with dried chillies, mint, shredded ginger and mustard seeds, served with ice. Delicious!
The live "jazz" isn't all that, but it's inoffensive and you won't really notice it while you're busy stuffing yourself and taking pictures of your food. Service is OK, although I get the feeling that brunch time can be a busy headspin for the staff, so I trust they get paid overtime. Although one of the waitresses looked like there were a hundred other places she'd rather be. Also, I found the buffet stand somewhat ambiguous. Some things you serve yourself, others you have people serve you, but it's not exactly clear how this is determined. I tried to deduce this from the positioning of the serving spoons. Handle towards me, I serve myself; handle away from me, someone serves me. This doesn't seem to be the key, as I committed several faux pas using this logic. And since the servers aren't always there, it all seems like a bit of a free-for-all.
But for that special Sunday brunch occasion, not a bad choice at all, though keep in mind that you'll end up completely stuffed, so leave yourself a few hours before arranging that game of tennis......
Starters
Chilled mango soup
Biryani, daal, some chicken thing, lamb with spinach
Cod, paneer, some other chicken thing, naan
Dessert!
La Porte serves a jazz buffet brunch on Sundays. This being father's day, it's only fitting that we should stuff ourselves for the benefit of our paternal ancestors. The buffet is somewhat inconveniently spread over two floors, with starters downstairs and mains and desserts upstairs. The exercise might do you good, though. Now, I must admit I can't remember what any of these things are called, but it was all very good. Particular praise goes to the biryaini, which was neither too dry nor too greasy. A spherical flour pastry that a chef pokes with a needle and fills with a mint and coriander sauce is also interesting, and out of the desserts, the gulab jamoon, normally a syrupy, diabetes-inducing lump of flour, was excellent, and not too sweet at all. But the best thing was the chilled mango soup. Smooth, strained mango, with dried chillies, mint, shredded ginger and mustard seeds, served with ice. Delicious!
The live "jazz" isn't all that, but it's inoffensive and you won't really notice it while you're busy stuffing yourself and taking pictures of your food. Service is OK, although I get the feeling that brunch time can be a busy headspin for the staff, so I trust they get paid overtime. Although one of the waitresses looked like there were a hundred other places she'd rather be. Also, I found the buffet stand somewhat ambiguous. Some things you serve yourself, others you have people serve you, but it's not exactly clear how this is determined. I tried to deduce this from the positioning of the serving spoons. Handle towards me, I serve myself; handle away from me, someone serves me. This doesn't seem to be the key, as I committed several faux pas using this logic. And since the servers aren't always there, it all seems like a bit of a free-for-all.
But for that special Sunday brunch occasion, not a bad choice at all, though keep in mind that you'll end up completely stuffed, so leave yourself a few hours before arranging that game of tennis......
Starters
Chilled mango soup
Biryani, daal, some chicken thing, lamb with spinach
Cod, paneer, some other chicken thing, naan
Dessert!
posted by CCT at 8:36 pm
4 Comments:
dude... you're eating your way through london! some of those restaurants sound good and i want to try them when i'm back in july. who've you been going to eat at all these places with? more importantly, how come you never have me and joss over for any of the food you cook??
A buffet spread over 2 levels?? Now that's a first! It must be someone's wise attempt to halt over-zealous patrons from grabbing too much food.
Yes, I've clearly been quite remiss in my culinary duties. Perhaps we can arrange dinner chez moi when you're back in July.
I suspect spreading the buffet over two levels has more to do with space issues. Based on personal observation, I dare say that a flight of stairs does little to dissuade ardent buffeteers, although it does introduce an exciting degree of precariousness. Will that flirtatious lady with the see-through top and 4-inch heels make it safely up the steps with her plate of starters?
... in fact, she was quite adept and no mishaps occurred (probably a seasoned Sunday bruncher). I, on the other hand, managed to put some pineapple on my plate, only to turn towards the pancake stand and see them slide and fly off my plate, landing unceremoniously on the floor.......
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