Much like restaurants you’ve heard good things about, Bank Holidays often have that air of disappointed expectation about them. Where you’re going to go, what you’re going to do, who you’re going to meet up with… It inevitably turns into a lounging-fest which, whilst relaxing, is a little way short of the fulfilled weekend you promised yourself a fortnight ago. And don’t get me started on the weather we usually end up with…
Since I wasn’t going away on holiday this time, I thought a weekend of fun eating might serve well. I made a couple of hotel restaurant bookings (these are quickly becoming my staple) and during the weekend, another couple of tasty treats unfolded from the mix.
I’ll start at the beginning. My last dining experience in an Aldwych hotel was one of spectacular lonesomeness (devotees may remember the meal for one at the Waldorf Hilton during restaurant week), so I was happy to be going back there with another person this time. Indigo at the 1 Aldwych hotel promised to be a great evening’s eating from the moment we were seated in our wide reception-room chairs. I enjoyed the cosy feeling of lounging in my little throne on the mezzanine level of their eating and drinking complex as we were served most uninterruptedly; first water, then bread (butter and oil as standard – bravo!), then our starters.
There are dishes which need only explanation. All that is required after that point is a brief summary of whether or not said dish lived up to its description. I was lucky enough to have one such dish this Friday: scallops and pork belly. I need say no more than this: exceptional. Along with this, we tried a fairly decent carpaccio of beef which came with rocket (tolerable) and shaved parmesan (more like it), which wasn’t bad.
Main courses were also pretty special. Some modern classic veal – by which I mean sliced meat accompanied by jus, carrot puree and fondant potato sides – which we ordered rare hit the spot instantly. Bold flavours, subtle textures and zero filler: more please. With this we tried a simply stunning piece of duck breast. It was cooked pink as it should be, then thickly diced and served with blackberries, jus, bitter cauliflower florets and small potato spheres. This was some damn fine eating.
Desserts were the crowning achievement of the evening. And I say this because we decided to test ourselves with three desserts between two. A spot-on crème brulee, a syrupy and sweet white chocolate panna cotta with strawberry soup (strawberry soup!) and then a very bizarre upside-down cheesecake that looked weird (base on top with cheese pellets as decorations) but tasted great.
Indigo started the three-day weekend on a soaring high. Nothing I could really complain about here. If you’re going to do similar things to other restaurants, do them memorably and do them bloody well.
Saturday evening turned out to be more of the same, really. Another hotel, more modern European fare, another lovely part of town: The Bloomsbury Street Bar & Grill. This meal went from stellar to decent (which immediately makes it worse than Indigo) but that’s not to say it was bad. Part of the reason it slid downhill is because the two starters we tried were just fantastic. A duck platter which included seared foie gras, confit, cold shredded meat and liver parfait was about as good a use of duck I’d seen since…well, the night before really. Stunning stuff, served with sweetened softened apple slices, thick lightly toasted bread and fig jam. To go along with this, we ate a mackerel and rhubarb combination, served cold with chive crème fraiche inside a fine pastry nest. Bizarre indeed, but fresh, refreshing and highly recommended.
Main courses and desserts didn’t quite match up to what we began with. A pretty lovely piece of chicken cooked with a rich, buttery herb sauce and some decent vegetables was slightly let down by the potato fondant that came with it, which tasted as if it were out of a packet. The steak we went for was served with cooked cherry tomatoes on the vine which I liked, but was nothing exciting. Very edible though, which really does count with steak
Desserts were flamboyant if ultimately a little anticlimactic. A peach sorbet, meringue and ice cream assortment was lovely to look at, if only vaguely interesting to eat. Likewise, the white chocolate truffle with cherries started well, but fell away slightly with the wedge of cherry-esque jelly they stuck in the middle of it. Could’ve been better to finish.
Still, I wouldn’t complain that much. It’s a nice place, the Bloomsbury Street Bar & Grill, even if it’s drape-lined room is a bit dark, it’s a beautiful modern dining hall and it’s in a gorgeous area. Friendly service too.
Sunday night saw me prepare and cook a cracking carbonara for Tom and some other friends. It was great. (No false modesty.)
Monday transpired out of a discussion with Tom on the Sunday, as I found out he and some other friends were heading to The Boundary, Terence Conran’s hotel and restaurant complex on a rooftop in Shoreditch to celebrate a couple of birthdays. In the hopes that I could have a fourth great meal in four days, I naturally leapt at the chance.
The Boundary is made for sunny days spent with friends. We enjoyed our wooden tables underneath the material roof as the sun spread across the view of the east end, and the day got hotter and hotter. The atmosphere was just about right, but alas the food did not follow the standards of the weekend. The good parts were: a steak that was tender enough, simple and well-cooked; a chocolate pot that was suitably rich and concentrated; and a pavlova to share that just beggared belief. This thing was the size of a cartoon jelly and the eight of us devoured it unceremoniously. On the downside were some very fresh yet rather bland large prawns and red mullet. I’m almost moved to think that I’m not really that into seafood, because there must be a part of eating these dishes that I’m missing.
The other bits and pieces that I managed to try weren’t too bad: some interesting enough poussin (barbecued chicken to you and me), okay salad, lean lamb chops, nice stuffed bread to start, and a cracking bowl of raspberry ripple to finish things as we relocated to some reclining chairs late in the day. It can be a great day up there on the rooftop, but I think the draw of the place is its exclusivity and its views. The food isn’t bad but it is pricey. I get the sense the best thing to do up there is while away a few hours with some snacks and a cocktail or three. Also check out the fine foods shop on the ground floor,
That was, my friends, the weekend that was. Super weather (at times), superb food (at least once): a well-spent three days. Oh, and many happy returns to Tom!
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