I seem to have a sixth sense that maybe I was born with and has been developed over the years, or maybe it just came along recently. But I am able to sniff out good places to eat by sense. I don’t know what it is, maybe the look of the place, maybe the harmony I get from a restaurant. Or maybe, my level of food appreciation is so low that anything and everything tastes good to me. Well almost.
It happened in Chelsea Market, which is a fun place to wander around, even better if you live or work nearby. There’s a great coffee stand that makes the best espresso this side of Milan. Well apart from the Monmouth Coffee Shop in Soho. There are lots of nice places that sell soups, sandwiches, snacks etc. There is even a kitchen shop where you can get your knives sharpened once a week. Damn I wish we went day before, as my knives so need a good sharpening. Colombia trashed them.
As we were wandering around, hungry by this time. There was something about the Green Table that grabbed me as we strolled past. Took all of 10 seconds to decide to eat there. Glad we did.
The menu is seasonal, locally produced and short. Which is a blessing as reading through 5 pages menus takes away my appetite.
But I had a dilemma, either the braised chicken or the chicken potpie. Tough decisions in my life huh. Boy I wish they were all this hard. I choose the braised chicken, which sat on a bed of beautiful bed of creamy mash and moistened with some great thyme gravy. Chicken was moist and cooked perfectly, the kale still had bite to it, but the mash was divine, as mash should be.
Linas cassoulet was, as you would expect a cassoulet to be. A meaty bean stew is a meaty bean stew. But it ticked all the boxes, even the breaded crust on top tasted pretty good.
I just wished we could have had desert, but unfortunately we were stuffed. A shame as they looked lush.
The Market Table was a good find, but sometimes my magic powers do not work, as a rather bad visit to a restaurant in Marrakech springs to mind.
I am human after all.