Brasserie St. Jacques – Mayfair, Thursday 28th January, 2010

I hadn't planned to visit Brasserie St Jacques. I didn’t even know it existed to be honest. A friend invited me and I accepted. As it turned out, they were running a half-price offer on their set menu, which happened to be a tasting menu.

Now, before you get really excited, I should point out that said tasting menu was a meal made up of some basic French standards. It wasn’t exceptional or spectacular the way a tasting menu at the Fat Duck might be, and it wasn’t bizarre or mind-boggling. No, this was a menu that reverted to the simple things in France. And it was seven courses long: I was excited.

The first ‘course’ was a kir royale, which my companion drank both of and we promptly got down to food. After bread and butter, the first course was a small bowl of French onion soup with the usual gruyere-drenched bread (left). I was at first disappointed in the size of the thing, but it turned out to be well-placed with the rest of the meal. Whilst not the best onion soup I’ve eaten, it was a good start.

Between courses my eyes roved around the restaurant, observing how flamboyant it had been made to look. Rather than simple French cuisine, the décor and colour scheme made me think of vibrant Spanish tapas. The place is a little lopsided but it’s not unpleasant. I would say that it’s quite cold though, with very little atmospheric variation and many shiny, resounding surfaces.

Before I could delve any deeper into why I did or did not like the decorations of the place, our second course arrived; a terrine of foie gras (yawn). Despite my obvious and boorish disinterest with yet more liver paté-like stuff, I was impressed sufficiently to finish and enjoy it (right).

The next course had my full attention from the second I saw it on the menu. I have never been a big fan of mussels after a rotten experience the first time I tried them, but I was determined to give it a go here. (Partly because I wanted to enjoy them and partly because I had no choice anyway.) I must say that the moules mariniere we were served were excellent: cooked to something like perfection, with a gorgeous not-too-thin garlic sauce and bread to mop up. Yes, it was standard, but I got a lot out of this one (left).

The centrepiece of the menu was the partridge with a gorgeous slice of dauphinoise potato and red cabbage (below right). There’s nothing like the rich, varied tastes and textures of game in the winter to warm the soul and this was a beautiful course. The potatoes were predictably excellent, and sweet red cabbage is a dressing that I find myself relishing every time it is put in front of me.

Unfortunately they decided to throw a cheese course in between the meat dish and the dessert. This might be traditional (though I always thought cheese came last), and it might’ve worked on another night, but it was a bit of a non-starter with me. Some sort of creamy stuff from Munster reminded me that I’m not much of a cheese eater. It was too strong, ridiculously pungent and served only to irritate the palette as opposed to enriching it.

Dessert was a standard crème brulee. Entirely edible if not spectacular, I was reminded of Mike’s oft-spun wonderings on these vanilla puddings: why would you order one? As much as they can be great, it’s not often you find a great one. More to the point, if you mess a crème brulee up you’re doing something seriously wrong. Fortunately, this one was decent: sweet, light, creamy and not too heavily sugared. I ate and enjoyed.

I did enjoy Brasserie St Jacques. I suggest you give it a go too, particularly if there is a half-price set menu in the offing. Despite the glitzy postcode, the summery décor, a rain-soaked evening and a bad cheese course, it was really good, and one day I’m sure I’ll go back and try the a la carte menu too.

Brasserie St Jacques

Mews Of Mayfair – Mayfair, Thursday 21st January, 2010

This trip marked the beginning of a re-visiting spell for me. It seems that with the lean post-Christmas, pre-restaurant week months, the only way to go with food is flock to the places that are offering discount menus or are generally reasonable. C’est la vie…

I’d eaten at Mews of Mayfair once before, on a devilishly hot summer night where the food was good but no better and no desserts warranted further investigation, which saddened me. Given that they were offering 50% off the a la carte menu (TopTable, I will forever be in your debt) and myself, Mike and a few other friends decided to give it another shot.

Mews is a nice place. It happens to be in the most socially dense area of Mayfair, which has packed several bars and eateries around the cobbled streets of the Mews themselves. The restaurant is above a ground floor bar which, like the rest of the surrounding area, is busy, noisy and generally flustering. However, once you step inside, the becalming and modern décor will do you some good.

The place was riotously busy for a Thursday, but that may have had something to do with the dinner offer on. It was lively and noisy, which isn’t always the case with upmarket eateries such as this one. The five of us packed down and ordered and we were pretty pleased with the results.

Given the numbers, there wasn’t a whole lot of sharing going on, but I was ensuring everyone enjoyed what was put in front of them. The dishes I tried (and meagre amounts I scrimped from the other half’s plate) were really good. Surprisingly good, in the event. Some mushroom soup (below) was thick, rich and extremely worthy. We speculated on the amount of mushrooms it must have taken to produce a soup so thick and flavoursome, and the answer from me is “just the right amount”.

The table appeared to be in a beef-y mood, so four of the five main courses were steak. Two friends each ordered the standard, and the other half and I split the special chateaubriand. All were lauded impressively, and I can tell you with certainty that the chateaubriand was glorious. Really lean, smooth, rare steak served with trimmings and quite exceptional chips (below right). It certainly put the overpriced dish we had to toil through at Sophie's Steakhouse to shame. Super stuff.

Dessert was a fine chocolate tart which was rich but not too sweet, so after all was said and paid for, we were a happy bunch. Incredibly reasonable (mainly because of the offer) and a good time had by all.

Mike made a point after the meal that stuck in my mind though: would we have been satisfied paying full price for what we ate? The chances are we probably wouldn't, and that's rather telling. Much as I enjoyed Mews, I'm slightly reluctant to say you should definitely go there, because unless there's an offer on, it might be a little pricey.

Mews Of Mayfair

Racine – Knightsbridge, Thursday 14th January, 2010

On the off chance as the other half and I wandered through Knightsbridge, we stopped in Racine for a quick bite to eat after a little January shopping. Racine was not a restaurant I’d heard of before but it looked pretty classy, with an array of French standards on offer.

Had this been a planned, dressed-up Friday night affair, I sense our meal choices may have been different. We shared a starter and dessert and shared two main course dishes. The overall course of the evening started and finished well, with a dip in the middle.

Our starter of cold eel was excellent, served with some potato salad and crème fraiche. I have really gotten into eel this past year, and I’m delighted to be able to add it to my list of culinary preferences.

I’d never eaten a plate of choucroute before now, and having tried one, it isn’t something I’ll be rushing back to. What sounded amazing – a variety of sausages, pork belly and cuts of meat – turned out to be various pork subsidiaries boiled and lumped on a plate with some cabbage. Maybe this means that choucroute is not my dish, or maybe it’s always rubbish, but we did not enjoy.

Some rabbit with new potatoes, mustard and green beans looked and sounded great, but tired very quickly. It wasn’t a bad dish per se, but I had hoped for more. It was edible but not enjoyable.

Fortunately our shared dessert of chocolate terrine with some sticky white chocolate sauce restored a little quality to the proceedings. It was expertly textured, flavoured and balanced.

The place itself is a brimming and bustling local eatery. It’s pleasant, graciously staffed and welcoming. I think I will be going back there to have a proper go at the a la carte menu too, because I’m convinced we just picked the wrong main courses.

Biased, me..?

Racine

Taiwan Village – Fulham, Wednesday 13th January, 2010

Taiwanese cuisine is something that you don’t really consider when you think of Asian food. Most people will think of Chinese, Thai, Japanese and then possibly Korean. And usually in that order. Malaysian, Singaporean and Taiwanese usually come later, and with this in mind, I was interested to see what the fairly acclaimed Taiwan Village was going to present us with.

It turned out to be a disappointment for a few reasons. Firstly (as I mentioned), it was highly lauded, having garnered praise in various journals, so I’d hoped it was going to be great. Secondly, it should’ve done more to hone its style to a truer representation of Taiwanese cookery. As it was, it tasted like second-rate Chinese food.

The high point was a decent-tasting spring roll, which was crispy and chock-full of seasoned pork and other filler. Unfortunately, the sizzling beef, chicken with rice and noodles we ordered smacked more of an average takeaway than anything else.

You might find that Taiwan Village floats your boat, but to me it was a restaurant that appears to be getting by through virtue of being the only notable Taiwanese restaurant in west London.

Taiwan Village

Vetro: Marble Arch, December 30th, 2009

We’ve covered Italian food in hotel restaurants before with the now famous (to me at least) visit to Theo Randall’s place, and the consensus was mixed but generally positive. If only we’d visited Vetro first; it would’ve seemed prodigious by comparison.

There are several things wrong with Vetro, the first of which is the dining room. It’s capacious, cold and confusing. The deeply polished floors with the garish green colours make it look like you’re at a swimming pool complex. They don’t really know what to do with their decorations either. It’s a mix of rustic Italian jars and preserved produce along with dried flowers and plants. In fact, so much fake vegetation adorns a structure in the centre of the room it looks like a long-defunct fountain on which nature has taken its course.

As much as I’m rambling about the ambience of the place here, it does need mentioning because if you’re eating in a west end hotel (The Montcalm in this case), you expect to be comfortable and relaxed. This hollow room did nothing for me.

Service was flawed if enthusiastic, which actually made things worse. (Clumsy, overbearing…that sort of thing.) In the circumstances I would’ve hoped they would be slightly quieter and reserved. The food started well enough: some roast quail was pretty decent, served with potatoes and hazelnuts yet well-cooked and seasoned. Similarly, a carpaccio of seared beef with mushrooms, parmesan and summer truffle (just where are you getting summer truffle from in December?) was juicy and tangy.

Main courses were where the meal started to wobble. In fact, after mine I was almost lost to the cause. A ‘special’ steak (it wasn’t on the menu) sounded delightful, served with mushrooms and jus accompanied with seasoned mash. It was tough, overcooked, bland and very disappointing. Not far behind was the leg of rabbit, which again sounded fine, served with pancetta and potatoes. It was far from delicious. Unimpressive, under-supported and too dry made for a second poor main course.

I hoped (though not with any real conviction) that desserts could salvage proceedings. Since we weren’t feeling massively enthused, we ordered the trio of Italian desserts to share: an interesting and creative deconstructed tiramisu, a passable and fairly enjoyable panna cotta and a ropey-as-anything wheat cheesecake. The first two were quite good: a combination of biscuit fingers dipped in strong coffe and sweet cream; and smooth fruit-sauced simplicity. The cheesecake was a huge mistake right from the conception of the idea. Dry, tasteless, maybe even cheeseless and certainly not something I’d want to eat again.

Vetro will need to buck its ideas up if it’s to compete with rival hotel restaurants in the area. Starting with the dining room and finishing with that cheesecake, the place is in need of a re-think. The good (starters) were good, but the bad will stick in the memory longer, and that just isn’t what we’re paying for.

Vetro