Mama Lan - Brixton

Brixton Village Market, Coldharbour Lane, SW9 8PR

In January, you want to spend as little time outside as possible, especially in the cold dark evenings. However, after a run (that’s right, I have to burn these calories off somehow) the thought of cooking is equally galling.

Showered, changed, and back down to huddle in the warmth of the tube, Brixton in winter is far removed from the Caribbean heritage it so proudly boasts. A criss-cross of railway bridges and elevated walkways, almost everything in Brixton drips when it rains. There’s always a slightly disturbing smell around Electric Avenue too. The juice of the day's fish hosed down poorly maintained drains.

With three tramps huddled in an archway, shouting unintelligibly at passersby, it’s no wonder that when I first visited Brixton I was back on the tube within five minutes.

Brixton Village is a small beacon of light at the end of the dripping walkway. Quiet on a January weeknight, you have your pick of the vendors who’ve decided to open, rather than the endless queues of the summer months. Still, indoor seats are at premium in the tiny restaurants, so the cold air of the cavernous roofed market has to be braved if you want to be fed.

Mama Lan has been on the list for a long time - although I can’t think of anywhere in Brixton Village that hasn’t. Dumplings and noodles make a nice change from the fried meat of most restaurants in the area. The dumplings are small, plump, meaty bites that steam your mouth and stay hot for a lifetime. The pork and chinese leaf (the only ones I ate) had a real whack of garlic to them and a deep rich meat.

Noodles here are either a soup or a salad. The latter is slightly misleading if you’re expecting the sort of low-calorie nonsense that a stick-thin model might be hunting for. This is a large bowl of noodles, with lush green cucumber sticks laying atop spicy pieces of thoroughly tender chicken, with a sprinkling of peanuts. I’m almost guessing at the last ingredient there. I don’t take written notes when I eat and the hunger from that cold run was too distracting for me to make a mental one either.

A delicious dish, the noodles. Hearty is probably a word I use far too often in winter, but it can definitely be applied here. I left full, satisfied, and well fed for my twenty pounds (including tip). That and the drips from the walkway outside, a small price to pay for not having to cook at home or do the washing up.

When the warm weather finally returns, so will the queues in Brixton. Being so close to the Village’s door, they’ll be ten deep waiting for dumplings at Mama Lan. I won’t be joining, as I hate to queue, but I’ll definitely envy those at the front.

p.s. They also have a restaurant in Clapham.

Koya - Soho

49 Frith Street, London, W1D 4SG

‘So, which is the best restaurant in London?’ is an unanswerable question. I doubt anyone has eaten in every restaurant, for one thing. For another, tastes ebb and flow. One minute the bandwagon is carting ceviche, then pulled pork, eel fed duck, and lemongrass served on a bed of candied orange peel. Each time it changes, a different restaurant is the new found star, while the others are shunned like a leper colony.

A better question would be, ‘what’s your favourite restaurant in London?’ It’s still not an easy one though. Aside from the fact that I don’t really know what I’m talking about, my tastes change depending on the time of day. Foie gras makes for an unappealing breakfast, while a kebab looks mightily tempting at 2.00am, and a McDonald’s breakfast is just thing after you’ve had more pints than sleep the night before.

At a certain time of the day – specifically between the hours of 5.30 and 6.30pm - Koya is in my top 5. At any other time, the queue for this small noodle bar on Frith Street, Soho, stretches to the ridiculous lengths of an iPhone launch. I’m not one of those ‘don’t queue on principle types’. I don’t queue because it’s dinner time and I’m hungry. I’ll just go somewhere else.

As well as a certain time slot, Koya is best be visited on a cold damp Autumnal day. Scarves tightened to eleven, brown wet leaves underfoot. It’s not like we’re short of those, hence the constant queue. They serve noodles in a broth, with various meat and vegetables floating in it. A sweet, salty nourishing dish that tests the dexterity of diners. Thick udon noodles easily slip from chopsticks, spoons, and mouths, dribbling down chins, and sending broth splashing on to the po-faced couple who share the same small, intimate table for four.

Koya also serve an interesting array of ever-changing sides. Last time, it was hay smoked venison. This time, slices of pickled carrot and turnip, tempura pumpkin with a honey cured egg yolk and chilli salt. The pickles, firm, smooth to the touch, with a delicious bitter tang. The pumpkin, wrapped in its crisp blanket, hotter than the sun. Chopped, cooled, and dipped in the warm glowing egg, with a dusting of the spiced salt. Fantastic.

So, what’s my favourite London restaurant between 5.30 and 6.30pm on a cold September Monday evening? Koya. Next question…