3-in-1 review: Corner Room, Bonnington Cafe and Ephesus

A heat-wave's hit London, so I've been eating out a lot recently. When it's boiling hot here, everyone goes out. The thing is, if London was sunny and warm the whole time, it just wouldn't be London. But when it is... it's the best place in the world. My favourite place, and the one I have literally just discovered (tonight) is Corner Room in Bethnal Green. I won't lie to you - aesthetics are incredibly important to me in a restaurant. Not more important than the food, no way, but on a par with, definitely. And Corner Room, aesthetically speaking, is so cool

We decided that the look was 'inter-war period industrial-surreal"

You can't book a table - you just turn up

The portions are laughingly small and you have to ask the staff to please stop topping your water up becasue it's so frequent that it's annoying...

Yet it's an original (I would say beautiful, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder) place with incredible food

I would order the pigeon again, but not the Japanese radish (?) sorbet you can see up here with what looks like snail slime around it. The main point here is that with some places, it's worth taking a risk. Another one of these places is the Bonnigton Cafe in Vauxhall. It used to be a squat and now it's a lucrative community project. Every night is a different cook, but you can always get two courses for a tenner, and bring your own wine. You also have to book a table way in advance by emailing the chef on duty that night

And you always leave this place feeling both full and extremely healthy

It's not haute-cuisine, as you can see, but if you like trying new things, then it's worth a pop. Then there was Ephesus on Broadway Market. It's a new place with lots of lamps hanging from the ceiling -actually, this is something it has in common with Corner Room

The food is also delicious, except the portions are massive

I don't know why I am trying to compare the two, because you can't really. Ephesus is homely, healthy Greek/Turkish food, while Corner Room is edgy, avant-garde Spanish. I'd say both are worth a visit. But if you have to choose just one, then I'd always go weird

Baby courgettes, with flowers, in chickpea and beer batter

Talking of being the least green fingered person you're ever likely to meet, I tried to move some courgette leaves off the grass the other day and completely pulled out the whole bunch, with roots and everything. I don't know how it happened. Either I'm superwoman, or courgettes are much more delicate than they look. Those massive prickly leaves and thick stalks are deceptive. And you'd think that I'd get loads of little baby courgettes out of the mishap at least, but all I got was this

Still, I managed to make that into the tastiest handful of baby courgettes I've ever eaten. The flowers themselves taste gorgeous and this dish would be nowhere near as tasty without them. I used the chickpea batter, that I was using to make la socca, except with a tiny bit of water and a lot of beer. Then I fried them for about 5min in sesame oil, turning over half-way, and seasoned with salt and freshly ground black pepper when serving. For some reason, I didn't expect them to be very nice, coming from my unkempt garden, but they really, really were. So, the moral of the story is: if I can grow these, then so can anyone with a pair of hands. And some seeds. And earth and water

Moroccan mint tea

If any of my neighbours looked out of the window this morning and saw me kicking the door of my shed, they'd be forgiven for thinking that I don't particularly enjoy gardening. They would, however, be wrong. Despite my momentary anger at the shed door, the fact that I only do it every month (at best) and my considerable lack of green-fingered talent, it is something that gives me great pleasure. Today, for instance I found that some mint was growing near the rosemary bush. Where did it come from?

I took it as a sign that it was time to make Moroccan mint tea. I have been making this tea, ever since I went to Morocco in 2001. Of course, I've developed my own method by now, and it has been transformed into something that perhaps isn't 100% authentic, but is, nevertheless, delicious and refreshing. The main difference is that I don't sweeten it with sugar, but with honey. And I don't make it anywhere near as sweet as they do. It's a matter of taste, I guess. You take a green tea bag and put it in a pot with about three sprigs of mint and a tablespoon of honey, before covering with freshly boiled water. Allow to brew for about five minutes, then pour into individual teacups. Or small glasses, if you want to be Moroccan about it. If I'd found some pinenuts, then I would have toasted them, and let a few float on top, just like they did in Quarzazante, on the edge of the Sahara desert

Sugar-free coconut and apricot flapjacks

When you've had the best flapjacks in the world, it's hard to then try a different recipe. There's such a massive risk of disappointment. And it feels a bit like cheating. Even though you know that the maple flapjacks will always take you back with open arms and no questions asked, it still doesn't feel quite right. Except that I've had this flapjack idea going round in my head for a while now - apricots and coconut, apricots and coconut...

Ingredients

3 cups oats

1 cup desiccated coconut

1 cup dried apricots, chopped

200g butter

1 cup agave syrup

By 1 cup, I mean approximately 200-250g. You make them as you would any other flapjacks - melt the butter, add the agave syrup, then all the dry ingredients. Mix together really well, then bake for 20-25min in a pre-heated oven at 180 degrees C (remember to grease the baking tray!). They are completely different to the maple ones - softer in both taste and in texture - but just as tasty and balanced. Sometimes, a risk is just worth it. I wouldn't advocate cheating, but let's just say that me and flapjacks have agreed on an open relationship