Skinny cocktails to be big in 2013

Skinny cocktails are set to trend in London bars this year, according to one of the capital’s leading mixologists, Joe McCanta, brand ambassador for Grey Goose vodka. McCanta has developed a range of skinny cocktails in response to huge demand for the “Skinny Bitch” in London, a mix of vodka, lime and soda.

“By ‘skinny’ I mean the low calorie. A 35ml measure of vodka has around 50-65 calories, while a brown spirit can be well over 100 calories for the same measure,” McCanta told the spirits business, adding, “Vodka is the skinniest spirit out there in terms of calories. Among the new range, which will be on sale at the Library Bar at Electric House, are a skinny take on the Grey Goose Le Fizz, a mix of vodka, lime and soda and elderflower liqueur, and the Vohito – a vodka Mojito featuring Grey Goose Le Citron, agave syrup and mint.

Mixologist Joe McCanta

McCanta advises those in search of a skinny serve to steer clear of Tequilas made with corn syrup, Bourbons that add caramel flavouring, and cocktails like the coconut-laden Piña Colada and creamy White Russian. Instead, he recommends using spices like ginger and cardamom: “Spices have loads of flavour and virtually no calories, so you get the biggest bang for the least amount of buck,” he said.

He also advises using a low calorie soda water like Schwepps Slimline Tonic with zero added sugar and just three calories a bottle. In terms of 2013 cocktail trends, McCanta predicts a place in the spotlight for the humble garnish as a bartender’s signature. “The Nightjar carves birds into their lemon peel garnishes and Ago Perrone of The Connaught crafts an “A” into slices of orange to garnish his drinks. It’s like the mark of Zoro – a chance for bartenders to put their stamp on a cocktail,” says McCanta.

He believes unusual ingredients, like Asian citrus fruit yuzu, Marmite and bacon will be used more frequently in cocktails. He also thinks there will be a surge of barrel-aged spirits in London bars, with venues offering limited released from micro distilleries. “A few years ago New York was leading the world in terms of cocktail trends, now London has definitely overtaken it,” LA-born McCanta admitted. 

Sadoya wine dinner at Saki Farringdon

Japanese wine is having something of a moment. Last week a series of events were held in London to showcase Japan's winemaking prowess to the city's wine elite, including a lunch attended by a who's who of the wine world: Michael Broadbent, Jancis Robinson and Hugh Johnson to name but three.

The focus was on Japan's flagship white grape, Koshu. Helping to build a buzz around Japan's great white hope, Jancis Robinson MW was enlisted to host a Koshu seminar at the Koshu of Japan trade tasting, in which she described the grape, which is being marketed as an alternative to saké for matching with Japanese food, as 'quietly gallant'. Made in the Yamanashi Prefecture, the Japanese government has put its support behind a campaign to promote Koshu in the UK and other European export markets, targeting Japanese restaurants.

My encounter with Koshu came at Saki restaurant in Farringdon, at a dinner hosted by Hirohisa Imai, owner of Sadoya, one of Japan's leading producers. Light bodied and almost transparent, the tank sample of 2010 Sadoya Zenkouji Kitahara Koshu had delicate, yuzu citrus flavours, along with hints of lychee and lime blossom. Jancis accurately describes its purity as 'zen-like'.

Sat beside Imai at the dinner was long-term friend and former owner of Château Cos d'Estournel Bruno Prats. I wondered whether Prats harboured dreams of a Japanese wine project, to add to his Portuguese, Chilean, South African and Spanish ventures, but he assured me he has no plans to invest in Japan, and that his final wine project, an old vine Monastrell from Alicante called 'Alfinal', or 'the end' in Spanish, will launch at Vinexpo in Bordeaux this June.

Leaving Prats and Imai to get back to their Koshu, I took my place at a black cubed table with a white, gravel-filled centre sprouting four phallic candles, like erotic stalagmites – the most curious centrepiece I've ever encountered in a restaurant. Not only the only blonde, but the only Brit, I felt like I'd stepped inside a scene from Sophia Coppola's Lost in Translation.

The seven course dinner paired a different Sadoya wine with each dish. Founded in 1917, Sadoya was appointed purveyor to the Japanese Imperial Household in 1940 – a title it retains to this day. The feast commenced with a trio of nibbles inspired by Japanese New Year celebrations: tiny fish representing fertility, a golden egg yolk set atop an egg white in a coconut ice-like cube for prosperity, and a white radish and red(ish) carrot – Japan's lucky colours.

The accompanying Sadoya Cabernet Sauvignon sparkling rosé was an attractive onion skin pink, and had persistent petillance and a feminine nose of summer fruits. A simple sashimi selection followed, which matched incredibly well with the crisp, citrusy Koshu. We then moved on to scallop, king prawn and Lotus root kakiage (tempura) that looked like a tumor but tasted divine. Crunchy and moorish, it's the Japanese equivalent of beer battered cod. The matching 2004 dry Semillon was decidedly dull, and almost ghostly in its lack of character.

Sat to my left was a Japanese lady who had emigrated to England 30 years prior and now worked at the Japanese Embassy in London. After kindly inviting me to a forthcoming saké tasting, she told me of her predilection for English comedy and costume drama, name checking Only Fools and Horses and Downton Abbey as her particular favourites. Curiouser and curiouser. A fascinating dish followed: braised pork belly in a potato sauce, served in a yellow flower-shaped bowl and garnished with two bright green beans. Soft, comforting and tremendously tender, it was the best pork I've ever tasted.

We were then presented with a duo of exciting wines: Sadoya Château Brillant Cabernet Sauvignon 1992 and Château Brillant Cabernet/Merlot 1962. The '92 was remarkably youthful for its 19 years, and still incredibly fruit forward, with a nose of black cherries, and red currants. The palate was smooth and rounded, showing traces of aged Bordeaux. The '62 also seemed young for its years, and reassuringly full of life. Savoury and serious, it had aromas of pencil shavings, cedar wood, cigar box and tobacco smoke, with a spicy, sour cherry finish.

The '62 was matched with black cod with truffle miso - a sublime dish that had me reaching for superlatives, so rapturous was its divine, hedonistic flavour. Intense, intoxicating, indulgent, I almost genuflected in front of the plate in reverence to it. The final wine of the night was a curio: Sadoya Zenkouji Kitahara Sweet Semillon 2008, paired with green tea tiramisu, that sang of apricot and orange peel. In the UK's highly competitive wine retail arena, the 'quietly gallant' Koshu is not going to be an easy sell, but it's exciting to see the white grape has entered the world wine arena. And with Sadoya producing some stunning reds, Japan's wine future looks to be in the pink.

Inamo St James

Apologies, dear reader(s), for the three week hiatus. December always seems to whiz by in a flurry of festive obligations. At the start of the month I was offered the job of Staff Writer at The Drinks Business, which I will begin in the new year, so the month has been spent tying up loose ends at Decanter, which I bade a fond farewell to last week.

Aside from moving jobs, December has also been characteristically busy on the event front. Earlier this month, when the first bout of snow hit London, I ventured out into the white night layered up like a mille-feuille to attend the launch of Inamo St James. Arriving fashionably late, the 300-cover Regent Street restaurant was heaving. Standing in line, I noted familiar foodie faces interspersed with the odd celeb - model David Gandy acted as an alluring window display, while son of Salman, Zafar Rushdie, was busy entertaining a Sloaney blonde.

I found my dining companion, David Joseph Constable, sinking a saké Mojito at the bamboo bar. We were swiftly ushered through the sprawling space to our electronic table by a statuesque waitress in leopard print. Billed on its website as an 'Oriental fusion restaurant with influences from Japan, China, Thailand, Korea and beyond' (wherever that might be), Inamo's USP is its interactive ordering system. Diners are in control of their culinary destinies and are at liberty to order as much or as little as they desire from the electronic menu over the course of an evening.

The E-Table technology also allows you to choose your virtual tablecloth colour and design, spy on the chefs at work through the Chef Cam, and even book a taxi home. In a spectacular display of generosity (it being the press night), we were given free reign on the menu, simply split into 'small dishes', 'large dishes' and 'deserts'. The first five minutes of my Inamo experience were happily spent in silence, exploring all the E-Table's functions. My opening move was to turn our tablecloth a tasteful shade of violet, then, at the push of a button, I ordered two raspberry lemon cooler cocktails, which dutifully appeared at our table mere minutes later.

Inamo is ideal for the techno-savvy Twitter generation. There's enough on the table to entertain you to render polite conversation with your dining partner obsolete. And if you did desire to communicate, you could always send them a text, or even better, a Tweet, from across the table. Aware of my anti-social behaviour, I engage David in conversation, proposing that we order some starters. 'I've already ordered three, I think', David replies. And that's the thing. It's impossible not to fall prey to kid in a candy shop over exuberance at Inamo, making it a dangerous place for diners lacking in self restraint.

So the starters arrived in their droves. We tried bite-sized baby crispy prawns served, chippy style, in a paper cone, transparent slithers of kelp marinated sea bass (pictured) served with shiso and soy, which were slightly smoked and utterly moorish, seared tuna coated in black bean and wasabi with creamy cucumber miso, seared scallops with a lifted, lemony Yuzu dressing, Dragon rolls filled with tiger prawns and crab salad, pencil shaving thin slices of marbled beef with truffle vinaigrette and (finally) yellow tail sashimi in a sweet soy, truffle sauce.

Considering the restaurant was operating at full capacity, serving hoards of hungry, sharp-fanged journalists, the standard of the starters was impressively high. Some dishes, like the scallops, failed to reach the standard I have come to expect in London, but others, like the sea bass, yellow tail sashimi and marbled beef, were unique, exciting and extremely well executed. I often find myself more allured by starters than mains in restaurants, preferring to experience a little of a lot, than a lot of a little. Nevertheless, we felt it only right to sample a decent selection of mains, if only for a rounded overview of the cuisine on offer.

David fired up the 'larger dishes' menu on our E-Table, and started placing orders. I did the same. This is ill-advised, as we ended up with three mammoth salmon dishes glaring at us for the remainder of the evening. The main event included exquisitely cooked silky black cod in spicy miso that fell off the fork, soft, creamy, saké salmon cooked in cedar wood and served in a deliciously rich Hollandaise sauce, zesty, juicy, orange-fueled Tamarind duck breast and pan fried salmon glazed with Javanese sugar, which decency forced me to abstain from.

Quite how we found room for pudding is astounding, but it was worth fitting in. My vanilla-flecked strawberry crème Brûlée topped with mint was the highlight of the evening. Our overenthusiastic ordering resulted in an eye-watering £180 bill, but an equally fulfilling meal can be had at Inamo for a fraction of the price, and the progress of your bill can be checked at any stage by pushing the 'calculate bill' button.

Inamo St James will be a success. It's modern, stylish and faddy, like London itself. On our visit, the house music was booming and bar buzzing with trendy types sipping chic cocktails and milling about next to the tables. A number of the diners seemed irked by this, and rightly so. The drinking and dining spaces at Inamo need to be more clearly defined. Like Kyashii in Covent Garden and Aqua in Oxford Circus, there's something of the 'clubaurant' about it. It's an ideal place to take a date with whom you fear conversation may dry up. And if it does, you can book a taxi and make a quick exit without saying a word.

Sumosan restaurant review

Nobu and Zuma dominate London's modern Japanese dining scene, gaining column inches as much for their celebrity clientele as for their food. Sumosan is something of a modest younger sister flying slightly under the radar.

Tucked away on a quiet side street off Green Park next to a Vietnamese art gallery, Sumosan's light, airy space is decked out in tasteful beige and lilac. The pared down interiors are very zen-like and calming.

I visited on a Wednesday lunchtime and the place was reassuringly buzzing with a mixture of wealthy Russian expats (the restaurant is Russian owned), office workers and ladies who lunch. Bypassing the á la carte menu offering the likes of seasonal Toro stuffed with foie gras, and sea urchin risotto, I opt for the reasonably priced five course lunch menu for £22.50, with a side of rock shrimp tempura.

Lunch begins with a refreshing cup of miso soup with tiny shiitake mushrooms, that serves as the perfect palate cleanser. Next up is a delicious, umami-rich Kaiso salad crammed with sesame seeds and peanut butter, which I enjoy with a glass of Domaine de Joy Ugni Blanc from Gascony. The rock shrimp tempura doesn't disappoint - made up of heavenly chunks of fried shrimp, lifted by the citrus Yuzu dressing.

A sashimi selection follows, featuring the usual suspects: salmon, tuna (which is air-shipped from the US at -80 degrees), prawn, and richly flavoured white bait, all of which match incredibly well with my crisp, lime-fueled 2008 Hunter's Riesling from Marlborough, New Zealand.

For the main event, I go for the Black Cod with Miso, keen to see how it fares against the Nobu version. I was slightly disappointed by its diminutive size - call it the Kylie Minogue of the fish world, but what it lacked in size it made up for in flavour. Sweet and rich with a melt-in-the-mouth texture, there are few flavour experiences that top that of well cooked Black Cod. It's all consuming, transcendental even, and I feel almost beatific reverence for the fish and the pleasure it produced. A tricky one to match with wine, my 2008 Tasmanian Pinot Noir from Devil's Corner, whilst not harmonizing completely, far from jarred.

Pudding is a decadent affair. I choose Sumosan's signature dish - a white chocolate fondant, which arrives in an exquisitely crafted golden cage made of latticed sugar. Gooey and toothy tinglingly sweet, it tastes like liquid Milky Way and matches surprisingly well with my Thienot 2002 Champagne, for which Sumosan are the sole suppliers.

Although I chose to drink wine, there's an extensive saké list to experiment with. Head Sommelier Jean-Louis Naveilhan offers eight different sakés by the glass, and saké flights – three sakés by the glass for £10.50. Naveilhan is adamant that the rice wine, which should always be served chilled, can be enjoyed throughout the meal, from apéritif to pudding.

Blowfish fin Sake, and other curiosities

Have you ever eaten a blowfish? They're highly poisonous and if cooked incorrectly can cause all number of exciting symptoms: intoxication, light-headedness, numbness of the lips, dizziness and deadening of the tongue to name but a few.

Extreme eaters seek out blowfish in the hope of experiencing some of these strange sensations. In severe cases, eating a dodgy blowfish can result in death, as the poison can paralyze your diaphragm muscles, leading to suffocation. It can also cause comas that last several days where you remain semi-conscious.

I'm all for new experiences and pushing the envelope, but have to admit to being more than a little nervous about sipping on the blowfish fin Sake I was offered last Thursday at a delightfully curious Sake tasting in the basement of Chisou, a sushi restaurant in Oxford Circus.

The cup was being passed round and it would have been rude to refuse, so I took a deep breath and hoped for the best. The Sake was served warm and had a potent nose of mushroom, truffle, forest floor, cigar smoke, earth, peat and charcoal. It tasted, unsurprisingly, of fish, but after a few seconds the fishiness subsided, clearing the way for the forest floor aromas to reappear. Potent, pungent and intense, a couple of sips told me all I needed to know. After a minute I hadn't keeled over, which I took as a good sign. Not a numb lip in sight.

The event aimed to showcase a series of Sakes from Okayama, a city in the Chugoku region of Japan. Three producers had flown in, and were showing four Sakes each. I'm a Sake novice, but enjoyed getting stuck into the tasting, applying my wine knowledge wherever I could.

We were asked to analyse the aroma, flavour and balance, much like you would a wine. One of the producers tells me (via his translator) that in order to make a quality Sake you need three things: good rice, good water and a good brewing technique.

Before it's fermented, the rice is polished to remove the protein and oils, leaving the starch behind. The quality of the Sake depends on how polished the rice is. A grain can be polished up to 30% of its original size, and the more polished the grains, the more refined the Sake.

After trying a few, I realise it's impossible to apply wine speak to Sake. The vocabulary is much narrower. Sake styles are described simply as being fruity, dry, or sweet rather than through a ream of descriptors.

The latest trend in Japan is for fruit-flavoured Sake liquors made with peach, pear and plum. They were all pleasant enough, but the low alcohol and pulpy texture made them more like an Innocent Smoothy than a Sake. My favourite was the Gyutto Tesgibori Yuzu Shu, made from hand-squeezed yuzu juice, a small citrus fruit like a sour mandarin. Mouth-puckering, zingy and fresh, the lemony flavour danced around my mouth and brought it to life. I wanted to put the bottle up my jumper and run out the door it was so delicious.

I was excited to see a pink Sake in the line-up that would make Hello Kitty proud. At 13.5% abv, it had more of a kick than the peach, pear and plum, but it looked like milkshake and tasted like alcoholic strawberry Yop. A drink for naughty schoolgirls. There were plenty of serious Sakes on show, but they took our tasting sheets away at the end for feedback, so it's hard to remember what they tasted like. The Bizenmaboroshi was a highlight. It won a trophy at the IWSC last year, and had a delicate, sweet nose and full, rounded palate.

Our entertainment for the evening came in the form of Yoko Hallelujah, a diminutive Japanese Beatles fanatic armed with a jewel-encrusted acoustic guitar. She belted out fab four classics with brio, as we slurped our way round the remainder of the Sakes.