I’m not much of a Gordon Ramsay fan. I don’t find his expansive brand of expletive-ridden celebrity absorbing, and I have long questioned his opening restaurants and gastropubs in all corners of
Even well established landmarks like Le Gavroche found themselves lighter on bookings, though whilst their well-trodden path of tradition ensured they lost out on little in the long run, Mr. Ramsay’s brand began slowly faltering. Action was needed, and so January saw the ruddy-cheeked kitchen master open his doors to just about anyone that might want a bite to eat: cheap set menus all round. Well hello Mr. Ramsay!
Whilst I would love to have tried Claridge’s (where Ramsay has a residency), the lunch offer deal meant booking was more difficult than usual. More or less the next best option was Foxtrot Oscar, a trad Brit affair which is a few doors down from his flagship restaurant. (It must be noted at this point just how much I want to eat at his main restaurant, as the Michelin stars are plentiful and the food looks stunning.)
Foxtrot Oscar looks like an old boutique shop that has been converted into a restaurant. Apparently Ramsay used to eat in there after the odd shift at his restaurant, until he bought the place and re-modelled it from a local institution to another franchise in his empire. Not that the place has lost all charm; it remains quaint and almost cosy. However, the insides are a little hollow, and I don’t think any restaurant is comfortable when you sit too near the door.
Food-wise, the set menu wasn’t bad. The other half went for a meal of game terrine and duck (to start and for main respectively) which didn’t really interest me. What I tried was acceptable if unspectacular. I opted for a smoked fishcake of salmon and haddock, which was lovely. (Below left) Not so light it was insubstantial and not so heavy as to be hard work, the horseradish cream and rocket on the side combined wonderfully to complement the dish.
My main course was game pie with mash. This wasn’t too bad, except the mash looked and tasted a little artificial to me. I’m not for a moment suggesting that they’re using instant dried mix to make their mash, but it just wasn’t that good. The pie itself was okay. Not as stunning as I’d hoped, but decent.
Desserts were from the a la carte menu, and whilst the other half ate a chocolate fondant (her staying power is incredible), I ate a gorgeous slice of treacle tart with milk ice cream. (Below right) It was the best treacle tart I have eaten, which might not be a total surprise, since the majority of treacle tarts in my life were 
eaten from supermarkets when I was a lad. Still, this was top stuff: not too sticky, slightly crumbly and a perfect pastry base.
I wasn’t over-enthused by Foxtrot Oscar. As much as having a cheap set menu at a Ramsey place seems pretty good, the food itself wasn’t much cop. The atmosphere is a bit flat in there too, especially compared to the much-vaunted friendly vibe that accompanied the old Foxtrot Oscar.
And anyway, Ramsay had the last laugh as he tends to these days. I set my hair on fire towards the end of the evening whilst leaning over the table.
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