A confession and a mission

You may have noticed I've been uncharacteristically quiet of late. I have a confession to make: London and I are a thing of the past. Following my affair with Spain, London turned out to be no more than a rebound romance, and I'm now back with my long-term love, Oxford. It wasn't London's fault but mine: after overcoming my initial reluctance by throwing myself into city life, I was offered a job in Oxford and said goodbye to the big smoke.

Although I was gradually adjusting to London living and enjoying the city's packed events calendar and the wealth of restaurants and bars in easy reach, I can't say I was entirely sorry to leave. The size, pace and price of the capital were still too much for me after three months, and I was quite happy to return to live in the more manageable 'city' of Oxford and save London for regular weekend visits.

I soon found I missed the diversity of London's dining scene, though. Want a leisurely American-style brunch? No problem. Some good old British grub, perhaps with a gastro twist? You got it. Lebanese, Ethiopian, Russian, Afghan, Eritrean? London can provide for all your international feeding needs. Understandably, the selection in Oxford is more limited, but even so, I find I return to the same old haunts. So, in a bid to shake up my mealtimes, I've launched a mission to eat my way around Oxford in one year, reviewing the city's eateries one restaurant at a time. Beginning on April first, Girl Eats Oxford will see me begin my quest to try out as many of Oxford's restaurants, pubs and cafes as I can in one year. Join me as I lose £ and gain lbs while educating my palate. If you have any recommendations, please leave a comment on the blog or tweet me @girleatsoxford.

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Dial Arch: Regeneration and Rioja in Woolwich

When looking for an inviting pub in South East London, Woolwich doesn't exactly spring to mind. The slightly quaint, villagey atmosphere of Greenwich perhaps, but further east? Forget it, unless you like your boozers rough and ready. All that could be about to change, however, as Woolwich's regeneration process has spawned its first success: the Dial Arch pub.

Situated in the Royal Arsenal Riverside development, which also contains some swanky-looking apartments, the vast Dial Arch is set in the former gatehouse of the old arsenal, a building which dates back to 1720. As it's much bigger than your average pub, there's a risk that weeknights could see the sleek interior sparsely populated, but the wealth of offers on, err, offer seem to have helped Young's Brewery avoid that hurdle. With pizza and Peroni for £8.50 on Monday, Real Ale on Tuesday and wine night on Wednesday, locals are certainly never short of a reason to drop in. Those behind the Dial Arch are clearly trying to make a community hub of their enterprise, evident in the community noticeboard, the Sunday pub quiz and the many reasons to linger, such as free WiFi and a supply of board games.

Although the Dial Arch is a damn sight smarter than many pubs in the area (and, seeing as it only opened in summer 2010, many pubs), it manages to fall just the right side of 'gastro': it's definitely still a pub, with comfy sofas and leather-seated booths, and a separate area for more formal dining. On the menu are pub favourites such as fish and chips and sausages and mash, as well as more Mediterranean dishes such as risotto and of course, pizza. With slightly grating military-influenced names such as Private and Brigadier, Dial Arch is one of the new generation of London pubs that do pizza - and it's pretty good, too, washed down with a glass of reasonably-priced Rioja and followed by a game of Scrabble. Dial Arch, you almost make me wish I lived in Woolwich. Almost.

• Dial Arch is at Royal Arsenal Riverside, Woolwich SE18 6GH. Nearest DLR/train station: Woolwich Arsenal.

Hurry along to Yalla Yalla

I tend not to venture into central London if it's avoidable. The crowds of tourists and shoppers are too much to handle at the weekend, so even if staying away means no visits to the flagship of my beloved Topshop, it's a price I'm prepared to pay. But when L and M suggested meeting centrally for a week day lunch, I decided a little horde-braving could do me no harm. The idea of finding good food on a budget seemed more challenging though, especially if something a little more substantial (and sedentary) than a take-away sandwich was required. Food blog Gourmet Chick came to my aid, suggesting Lebanese cafe Yalla Yalla just off Soho's Brewer Street as a central spot for a cheap, cheerful and tasty lunch.

Pocket-sized Yalla Yalla (Hurry up in Arabic) claims to offer Beirut street food, although if the smart interior is anything to go by, its offerings are a cut above a falafel stall when it comes to presentation. The small space is deocrated in minimalistic monochrome with splashes of yellow, with rustic-effect wooden tables and keffiyeh-style cushions: definitely a step up from your average dark and poky Edgware Road Lebanese. Seating around 25 diners, booking is  advisable in the evening, when it becomes a popular pre-theatre pit-stop, but for lunch you simply have to take your chances or make do with take-away. Arriving early, we were in luck: and were so excited by our good fortune that we overlooked the lunch special offer chalked on a board outside. For £5.50, you can get your laughing gear around a wrap of your choice accompanied by either a dip or a salad. We went for mezze instead, although glancing around our fellow diners, the mains on view made me think another visit is required. Around 20 mezze are on offer, with a good balance of meat and vegetarian options and priced from £3.50-£4.50. Perusing the menu as we chomped on the complimentary chillis, olives and an unrecognisable pink vegetable which L proclaimed 'the saltiest thing on the planet', decisions were difficult to make, but we finally settled on the classic choices of houmous and falafel, tabboule, halloumi and soujoc (spicy sausages), accompanied by pitta bread and washed down with orange blossom lemonade (£1.90).

Mezze and L's elbows

The portions were definitely on the petite side, but quality made up for quantity: the sesame seed-topped falafel were delicately spiced and successfully avoided the dryness I've encountered at other Lebanese restaurants. I can't speak for the sausages, but the creamy houmous, moreish grilled halloumi and zesty tabboule were delicious and wll-presented. Service was friendly and we were even presented with extra bread after L devoured the first basket. And with all that for £22 and no 'optional' 12.5% service charge, I think I've found my central London Lebanese.

• Yalla Yalla is at 1 Green's Court W1F 0HA. Nearest tube: Piccadilly Circus. Take-away is also available.

El Camino hacia el cielo? New restaurant sets sail at Canary Wharf

Camino Puerto de Canario

The first branch of award-winning Spanish bar and restaurant Camino Cruz del Rey has become something of a King's Cross institution; a large but lively space providing commuters and local workers with a handy after-work venue (and an extensive drinks and tapas menu). By locating their new second restaurant at Canary Wharf, the folk behind Camino are obviously aiming to replicate this success with the boisterous banker crowd. At Camino Puerto de Canario, the bar area is only a little smaller than the dining section - presumably liquid refreshment is expected to account for a fair share of the business, and with the addition of table football to entice the punters, this is no doubt a fair calculation.

The airy, high-ceilinged new venue is at by the water's edge at Westferry Circus, a complex of shops and restaurants. Thanks to huge windows, it has the bonus of a river view - although given the lively atmosphere for a Wednesday night courtesy of the tequila-downing table next to us, I'm unvonvinced it would be the perfect location for an intimate dinner a deux, although some brave souls were trying.

Recently transplanted from Madrid, I was craving a tapas fix and the half-price offer during Camino's 'soft opening' period seemed too bargainous to pass up - after all, I'm used to paying around €3 for a tapa, not the £5 or so usually charged back in Blighty. Camino's menu features many dishes around that mark; with options such as gambas al ajillo (garlic prawns) at £7.75 at the higher end of the expense scale and vegetable dishes from a resonable £2.50. Divided into cheese, meat, vegetable, fish and salad sections with 3 different sharing platters on offer, their selection of tapas aims to cater to all palates and dietary requirements - as the rather eclectic verduras a la parrilla (£5.75) demonstrated. Expecting the more traditional plate of grilled peppers, courgette and aubergine, I was a bit nonplussed by the dish of greenery placed in front of me with a flourish: atop a bed of frilly lettuce - which was serving as a hiding place for a few grains of bulgur wheat - perched a pile of unlikely suspects. In addition to the anticipated peppers were an artichoke heart, a lone grilled tomato and a whole heap of mange tout and runner beans. J decided it was designed with all those waistline-conscious ladies in mind; I decided I need to pay menus more attention when ordering.

This was the only dud dish however: J's pinchitos de pollo (£5.00) were 'tender and just on the right side of spicy' (sounding a bit like a personal ad...); the chipirones a la andaluza (£5.75) came in a generous portion and were pleasantly chewy rather than the texture of a bicycle inner tube like the squid rings at a certain UK tapas chain. The batter was light and crispy, and the baby squid were complemented by a dish of ali-oli and a wedge of lemon. The aforementioned pricey prawns were perhaps not quite worth the financial outlay, but were tasty nonetheless, submerged in a pool of chilli and garlic laden olive oil.

All this was washed down with a carafe of white 2009 Vinhoz, amusingly described as 'ample and peachy, soft and fresh', which put me in mind of deodorant, but thankfully tasted significantly better than Right Guard. The page-long wine list required quite some perusing, much to the chagrin of our smiling waiter, who seemed to be on some kind of cava commission given how keen he was for us to order a glass of the sparkly stuff as an aperitif. We saved ourselves until after dinner for digestifs instead, skipping the tempting-sounding Galician almond cake with warm cream (£5.50) and the crema catalana (£4.50), which Camino veteran J tells me is better than your average creme brulee, and opting for a red Mistala dessert wine (£3.50) and an Araku (£3.70), a rich, firey Venezuelan coffee liqueur. Should diners wish to indulge, each sweet offering on the menu is paired with a complementary dessert wine.

The view from the terrace

Once our waiter was convinced that we actually didn't want anything else, we were presented with 'Las malas noticias' (the bad news): the bill neatly folded into a cute mini envelope stamped with this Spanish saying. Given that 50% was slashed from the total it was an absolute bargain for decent tapas in London, but at full-price it was just a touch expensive. However, I have no doubt it will be a welcome addition to the Canary Wharf dining scene, overpopulated as the area is by chains. And although this branch follows the camino of its older brother's branding, the restaurant has fortunately yet to acquire a 'chain' feeling. Parrilla de verduras aside, the many dishes on offer are largely authentic and served in big portions, and backed by a strong wine and cocktail list and a great location, Camino Puerto de Canario is sure to succeed.

• Camino Puerto de Canario is at 28 Westferry Circus, E14 8RR. Tube: Canary Wharf. Details of the 'soft opening' offer can be found here.

Supperclubbing #1: Fernandez & Leluu sets the bar high

Supper clubs, underground restaurants... Call them what you will, these dining experiences in the homes of keen amateur chefs are currently taking London by storm. After arriving from Madrid, I was keen to get in on the action, and when two last-minute places came up at Fernandez & Leluu's highly-regarded supper club in East London, I jumped at the chance and dragged my friend J along for the experience. Usually held on 3 nights each month (a consecutive Thursday, Friday and Saturday), Spanish Simon (Fernandez) and Vietnamese Uyen (Leluu) open up their home to serve around 30 diners a themed menu which changes every month.

On the bus journey there, aside from the Croatian-inspired menu emailed to us in advance, we had no idea what to expect. How many other diners would there be? Would our dinner companions be achingly cool and intimidating, know-it-all food snobs, downright weirdos or just fairly nice and normal people? Crossing our fingers frantically for the latter, we took a deep breath and knocked on the door. The friendly waitress for the evening greeted us warmly and ushered us into an inviting, trendily-decorated lounge/dining room leading onto a garden, where the other diners were mingling. Accepting the offer of a glass of wine, we made a half-hearted attempt to join in, wishing we'd arrived more than ten minutes in advance of dinner in order to get more of a chance to chat. A quick glance around the garden revealed that our fellow diners were not a scary bunch of trendy NHS-esque specs and skinny jeans wearers, in fact they seemed (sigh of relief) like normal folk, largely in their twenties and thirties.

At 8pm we sat down to dinner on our table of eight and were served an amuse bouche of mackerel pate in a chicory leaf, accompanied with artisan bread. The smooth homemade pate gave us a taste of things to come: delicious. Our international bunch of table-mates (from England, Italy, America and Norway) agreed, and we eagerly anticipated the arrival of our next dish, black squid risotto. Immaculately presented in a contrasting white dish, the black rice was topped with a dollop of chilli-flecked ali-oli and a baby squid. The flavours mingled beautifully; Simon had created a far more sophisticated dish than the similar Spanish arroz negro I've previously tried. The next stage in our feast was melon with parma ham and 'prawns ceviette' (two king prawns elegantly draped over a shot glass filled with a sublime mint and chive (I think!) dip). Whatever the sauce was, it was so damn tasty I couldn't resist using my fork to scrape the last of it from the glass (sorry Mum, I promise my manners are usually much better, and if you'd tried it you would have understood).

As our BYO wine flowed, the courses kept coming, allowing us to sample a wide range of Croatian-style cooking. Conversation with our fellow diners was a little more challenging as everyone seemed to have come in pairs (well, at least I hope the couple sitting behind us had...), but I gleaned some useful supper club tips from the girl next to me, who rated F&L as the best she had attended so far. The advertised 'fish and chips' turned out to be tuna sashimi with wasabi and slender hand-cut chips - I'm not usually a huge raw fish fan, but I think this plate-lickingly good dish (don't worry dear readers/Mum, I didn't!) might have converted me. Next in the hit parade was octoupus carpaccio with capers: the thin slices were full of flavour and their texture nothing like my last octopus experience, a tough tapa of pulpo a la gallega. The savoury delights were rounded off with pulled lamb for J, and chargrilled aubergines with a hint of chilli for my pescatarian self, both accompanied with a cold new potato and onion salad. Feeling pleasantly full but not stuffed, there was still room for the dessert of panna cotta, given an original taste with a slight orange flavour.

As we lingered over dessert, each group was presented with a personalised envelope to make their donation: a discreet way of collecting payment in-keeping with the intimate experience of dining in an undergroud restaurant. The minimum donation for Fernandez & Leluu's nights is £35 per person, which I had thought on the steep side before arriving, but given the quantity, outstanding quality and impeccable presentation of their dishes, it actually turned out to be great value. If you were served Simon's food in a restaurant, you'd be just as impressed but no doubt have to fork out far more for it.

Feeling rather tired after our Friday feast, we sloped off home, unfortunately not getting chance to chat to our hosts. However, I have no doubt I'll be back - when I can get in again that is. With their September nights sold out already, it seems that F&L's venture is going from strength to strength, and based on our experience I can see why. If you're a fan of great food who wants to try an unpretentious supper club with a welcoming atmosphere and attentive service, you better get yourself on their mailing list quick.

• Our dinner at Fernandez & Leluu cost a £35 minimum donation, including a glass of wine on arrival. Bring your own bottle of wine - there is no corkage charge.