March is a wonderful month. A work-related bonus is in the air, the spring begins, British summertime comes into force, and many London restaurateurs throw open their doors to anyone who’s got £25 spare.
Building on the success of last year, instead of doing two weeks, the organisers convinced everyone involved to give it the full month to let us enjoy some fine cuisine across the capital. As much as I’d have loved to eat 20-odd meals in the month, I’m afraid I just don’t have that sort of money. Still, a good few restaurants were visited, and considering the month included two short holidays, I’m happy with that.
It should be noted that whilst the visit to Hibiscus was indeed in March, it wasn’t part of Restaurant Week per se, which is why the review is not part of this feature. Our adventure through March begins on the following Monday…
Club Gascon – Smithfield, Monday 8th
Club Gascon is a superbly trendy restaurant. It has a Michelin star, it’s right next to Smithfield Market, and it’s apparently one of the most unique institutions in London. Sure, it serves French food, but Gascon cuisine is a little more stylised and revered than standard Gallic fare. A region in the south-west of France, Gascon cuisine is characterised by its reliance on fresh rural ingredients and distinctive rough class.
All in all, I was bloody chuffed that they were participating in the Restaurant Week celebration. Along with Corrigan’s Mayfair (which I didn’t end up going to), this was the place I was most looking forward to.
We managed to scramble a very late booking on a Monday night to try their set menu. It was an experience, I’ll give you that… But Club Gascon’s £25 set menu did not live up to its stellar billing. The pre-starter was an assortment of cocktail solids. I can’t really think of a better way to describe it. Small morsels evoking the tastes of traditional winning drinks, served on a small board? (Left) Well, take a bow for outrageous confidence. They were okay, with the Bloody Mary spoonful being the highlight. A classic case of style over substance.
For the starter, we sampled a very ambitious oyster velouté. It wasn't branded as such, with the dish being billed as "seared oyster with pine emulsion." It was a classic oyster dish for me: good for one mouthful. Instantly, the strong soup and bitter red onion swept aside any much-needed subtelty in the dish.
The set menu was one choice, with variation in the main course (vegetarian or non-), so we decided to try both dishes. The vegetarian one was…well…hard to describe. A dish called Aligot - mashed potato mixed with cheese - was a rather gloopy mulch. Very thick, quite rustic and not especially tasty. The cut of beef we were given was nothing to write home about either, being a bit too woody and under-supported for my liking.
Dessert was a bizarre one. The dish was called ‘lemon lemonade’, 
which both confused and frustrated me. It was essentially a half-frozen shot of incredibly concentrated fizzy citron with some quite heavenly lemon mousse. Strange but enjoyable in the main. (Right) Though I’m still perplexed by the dish’s name: does it mean that the lemonade has been made from actual lemons? Surely that’s a given.
Club Gascon is a hyper-fashionable restaurant with a slick ethos and a fancy pedigree. It’s probably worth trying the standard menu or the seasonal varieties they offer, but on the evidence of a fairly hollow late-night set menu, I won’t be rushing back just yet.
Club Gascon
1 Lombard Street Restaurant – City of London, Thursday 18th
A week and a bit passed before I could get to another (London) restaurant. I’d been away for a weekend which involved some delectable English coastal seafood before returning with a couple-y occasion at one of the City of London’s premier eateries. Like Gascon, I’d heard enough about 1 Lombard Street to get my taste buds fizzing.
Also similar to Club Gascon, the menu on offer was a set one with vegetarian options. Unlike Gascon, we decided to power ahead with no vegetarian choices. We began with a delightful pre-starter of wild garlic velouté, which settled the stomach nicely. The danger with something like this is you can accidentally make it super-strong, but it was understated enough to work.
The starter sounded incredible but wasn’t. Smoked haddock risotto with quail eggs should be a stunner but it was just okay. The mustard and lemon and various other accompaniments overpowered the fish, and the eggs didn’t add much. The taste was by no means bad, but as a starter it wasn’t fully realised and a little frustrating.
The main course was heavenly and comforting. I felt like giving myself a big hug afterwards. A pavé of angus steak with some delectable morel mushrooms and flavoursome jus is always going to be promising, and the fondant vegetables on the side did everything to assist the dish. (Left)
Moving to dessert, we had the anticipation of the chef’s ‘surprise course’, which I greeted with more than a hint of rolling eyes. It turned out to be a granita, which is basically some fruity ice. Now it was actually a lot better than just iced fruit; it was a perfect pre-dessert palate cleanser. It was both subtle and sharp, and whilst I was unable to pick out any distinctive flavours, it was intensely flavoursome.
Dessert proper was a superb affair. A gratin of rhubarb served 
with a sauternes sabayon (which is a sort of thick dessert jus, made with eggs) was just incredible. Rhubarb is very much in season, and as long as the stuff is well-served, I could eat it for dessert every day. It was sweet, sour and comforting in equal measure. Served with crème fraiche sorbet and shortbread for good measure (and the measure was indeed good), it was one of the best desserts I ate all month long. (Right)
Given that the meal was a slightly celebratory one, we decided to risk another dessert to share from the a la carte menu. It was greedy, unnecessary and wonderfully indulgent. The dessert sounded amazing but in the event it wasn’t all that. It was essentially a muddling of chocolate and passion fruit, in the form of a macaroon, a fondant and some sorbet. It should’ve been incredible but in the light of the first dessert, it was money we didn’t need to spend.
I was more than happy with 1 Lombard Street. Aside a starter which hinted at perfection but got nowhere near and a dessert we shouldn’t have ordered, it was a lovely meal. This was one of those rare occasions where the set menu was quite enough. Although I’ll be returning one day to sample the regular deal, the set would keep me quietly satisfied for a few more visits if it stays this good.
1 Lombard Street
Bentley’s Oyster Bar & Grill – Mayfair, Tuesday 23rd March
I had earmarked Bentley’s as a place to try as soon as the details of Restaurant Week went out. I’d heard about it, read about it, looked forward to it. And it was awful. Not for making us hang about in the foyer for no reason I could place once we’d arrived, not for one of the least impressive dining rooms around, but for the terrible food.
When you talk about set menus being bad, this one took the cake. Devilled lambs’ kidneys to start sounded promising but actually tasted very average to begin with. They became quickly worse: tough, tasteless, over-spiced and generally bad. The other half couldn’t bring herself to have more than a few bites, so I tried my best to polish them off whilst we shared a pretty uninteresting smoked salmon dish. Very standard: leaves, light sauce, boring. Both were served atop pancakes, which was unnecessary and diminishing. (The salmon was supposed to be on top of bread, but it tasted like a pancake.)
I was hoping for a swift and vast improvement when it came to main courses, but was horrified at what we were presented with. A vile dry, over-cooked piece of duck which had been seasoned almost exclusively with salt was as bad as it sounds. Served on top of under-cooked new potatoes and salad with a potent mustard dressing, I was fed up with this by the second bite. We didn’t finish it.
The mackerel fillet with beetroot and bacon was better, but almost any dish could’ve been. It was okay if under-supported, and the sides were distinctly piffling. The mackerel wasn’t particularly fresh and too salty. The dish was an unwise venture with a fish that is pure poetry if done well.
I was almost determined to enjoy dessert after what had transpired before it, and my appetite was appeased slightly by some in-season Lancashire rhubarb served with custard and a stick of shortbread. I love rhubarb, and there’s nothing quite like it in the spring. However, if it’s served ultra-fresh with almost a crunch still within… I’m sorry, but some more softening needs to take place. It was too hard, and again the other half couldn’t finish. I did my best, which was made slightly easier by some genuine custard and shortbread.
I have flown through this review as quickly as possible for two reasons. Firstly, I don’t like carping on about bad food too much. I know we need standards, but moaning about poor food doesn’t always make for interesting reading. Unless one writes for a broadsheet. Secondly, reading what I’ve written has made me feel a bit unwell, and I’m not keen to re-live the disappointment of eating at Bentley’s Oyster Bar & Grill.
Bentley's Oyster Bar & Grill
The Don – City Of London, Friday 26th March
The last Friday of Restaurant Week saw us head back to the city for dinner at The Don, a restaurant I had long been aware of. There was something of a mixed rush getting to the restaurant, as four of us were coming in from different places, but once we had been seated, the staff got around to taking our orders. (They had been very patient with our party taking so long to completely arrive.)
We tried to cover as many bases as possible on the set menu and did a pretty decent job of it. What was not so decent was the stuff we had to eat. As I ventured through my courses, I was struck by how very average it all was. Pretty much every dish suffered from the same problem of being too drawn-out and uninteresting after the first mouthful. With food, there’s not much leeway in the middle ground between vibrancy in every mouthful and good old comfort food. The food on this Friday at The Don certainly didn’t capture that middle ground.
We tried a variety of dishes that included some average smoked salmon and a relatively uninteresting rare beef terrine to start, a mushroom risotto that got boring after the second mouthful and some liver that was just too excessively rich. Desserts were better in patches, and utterly frustrating in others.
To flesh out the experience a little, the good parts of the evening were a decent chocolate fondant for dessert, which was rich, dark smooth and as bitterly sweet as such a pud should be. Also, the first mouthful of both the calf’s liver and the risotto were also very promising.
The downsides were the terrine which could’ve been amazing, but was let down by the pickled leaf (I’ve no idea what it was) that surrounded the meat. It was like a daring summer starter that just didn’t come off. Salmon came and went without any excitement, and all the main courses faded quickly.
This meal was not as bad as Bentley’s, because it was fairly edible and we did have a good time. But it was annoying. You get the sense that The Don might be able to do better but didn’t really have the inclination to do so. It was more or less summed up by my dessert: a treacle tart that was very zesty and not nearly soft enough. Something classic might be going on here; they just don’t know how to do it properly.
Unlike 1 Lombard Street, the set menu did not instantly make me want to get back there to try the a la carte, but it also got me thinking about set menus as an idea: which way should you go? Do you try to prepare a selection of no more than four options per course – increasing the choice – and rely on the fact that they can be pre-prepared and rushed out, but compromise the quality? This is what happened at the The Don. The other option is, of course, to do what Club Gascon and 1 Lombard Street did: stick to a very basic four dishes per customer (with appropriate vegetarian options) and then assume that the concentration on a smaller field will increase the quality? This worked at Lombard, but not at Gascon.
It is a puzzlement for sure. I know I wouldn’t want to be participating in this scheme if I were a restaurateur: far too many headaches. It certainly gave me some food for thought as the month drew on and food for food became more food for thought.
The Don
The Landau – West End, Monday 29th March
So we finally reached the pinnacle of the event as it were: the three-way meal. Tom, Mike and I hadn't eaten together in a good while before this meal at the Langham Hotel, and even though the evening was late and the rain was falling, our spirits were not dampened.
The other half made up a perfectly-sized group of four for the evening. Perfect because we ate the card. There were four options per course, and we tried each one. And, by and large, the meal was a cracker. Well, the beginning and end was.
Since we’re all so very keen to get as much out of an eating experience as possible, we tried each of the dishes presented, so there was a lot of sharing and noise at the table as we went along. The good thing about The Landau is you don’t feel like you’re in a stuffy hotel restaurant. It’s very open and vibrant, and has wonderful high ceilings: grandiose, but not intimidating.
The main courses turned out to be a bit of a let-down for the evening. Some tandoori cod was fragrant and colourful, but the fascination in the dish stopped there. Since when a card has to be shared, there must be some degree of sacrifice, Mike ended up with a fish dish. We know the boy does not appreciate piscine cuisine. The sea bream fillet was acceptable if nothing more, but Mike’s diatribe on blandness illustrated the point.
The other half and I were left with the meatier half of the menu. Her chicken leg was cooked perfectly, but the over-ambitious bean cassoulet it was served on hindered the dish, not matching the standard of the meat. I was presented with a stunning-looking assortment of pastry-encoated lamb, with garlic sauce poured on at the table and various accompaniments scattered across the plate. I was sure I was going to love it but didn’t. None of the dish seemed to click into place as it should have.
With that rather uninspired moan out of the way, I can tell you what we did enjoy about The Landau: everything else. Somehow I was left with foie gras and chicken liver parfait as my starter. (Honestly, I hadn’t wanted it!) Still, it was as good as it should’ve been. And when you make such a parfait to start, all is well. The confit duck Mike ate was served beautifully, with an egg on the side and some smart dressings.
The other half enjoyed her marinated sea bass with mackerel and cucumber. It was a great light starter, but packed with flavour. Tom’s artichoke velouté stole the show for the starters though. Poured at the table and served with a pork won-ton, parmesan straws and tarragon, it was a soup for the ages: rich, creamy, satisfying and worth every bit of showiness. (Left)
The course on the other side of our poor mains was a delight. Desserts can often elevate an entire evening as long as they leave a good taste in the mouth, and we were not disappointed. Mike ate some impressive mousse cake that was purportedly both white and dark chocolate. The consensus was that “chocolaty” sufficed for a description. Tom’s goats curd with dressings looked nice but as a huge fan of desserts in the sweet style, I would always go for something else. It was enjoyed though.
The other half enjoyed what was described as a “super amazing” crème 
brulée. The hyperbole aside, this dessert was one hell of a take on a traditional pud. Served on top of pearl sago (starchy, spongy jelly balls) with pineapple sorbet, it was something special. Smooth as you like, dressed to impress and a real spice-up of something that can often be a little plain. I felt, however, that the show was stolen in every sense by my stunning rhubarb trifle, served as a cocktail and accompanied with mild, unassuming champagne jelly and downright rustic shortbread. Magnifico. (Right)
The Landau is assuredly worth a visit. The four-option menu (which it turns out we were eating) costs £38 and is pretty reasonable. The a la carte looks fairly impressive and may well be worth a punt too. Hotel eating at its most unpretentious..? Maybe for the West End…
The Landau
Tamarind – Mayfair, Tuesday 30th March
This was another restaurant which had long been on the ‘to dine’ radar, so Mike and I looked forward to our dinner there with another friend with relish. The second Michelin-starred Indian restaurant in the UK, it has been more or less at the forefront of Indian cuisine in England ever since.
The restaurant lost its Michelin star in 2009, but gained it back at the beginning of the year. With this all in order, we attended an early evening seating, complete with the pre-theatre menu. There were two or three choices per course as you might expect, and the service was lovely, as you might expect.
I’m not a massive fan of Indian food. I don’t have the palate to deal with very spicy stuff, and I often find Indian food rather banal and unvaried. A large part of this is obviously to do with the explosion of convenient Indian takeaways and all-you-can eat affairs (which has also happened to Chinese), so it’s nice to get to somewhere that’s supposedly serving you ethnically diverse food in a modern sophisticated environment.
Parts of this meal were great. The papdums and naan bread were delicious, as well as the mango ice cream for dessert. It might seem a bit strange listing all the unspectacular, basic parts of this meal as “great”, but it is in the basics that we find culinary greatness.
The pre-theatre menu might’ve been limited, but the assortment of side dishes we were presented with were impressive. Lentil paste, rice, naan bread and curried vegetables decorated the table as we sampled some pretty impressive lamb chops to start. Well-cooked but a tad over-seasoned (there’s my mild palate again), they began things satisfactorily. The chillies detracted from the meat, for me.
Main courses promised a lot. Mike and our companion both ate and enjoyed an assorted platter of meats. There was some lamb in there, a little chicken and a general mix of vegetables with cheese thrown in. I certainly enjoyed what I tried of it, but the mish-mash style it was served in really made me feel as if were eating a discount menu, as opposed to something simplified from the a la carte.
My main course was supposed to be brilliant. The nation’s most popular dish, served as simply as needs be. (That’s chicken tikka massala by the way.) This is a favourite of mine too, so I was pretty excited to be trying Michelin-starred curry. As it was, I found it a little too coarse and full-on. Certainly too strong anyway. And then I realised that perhaps after all my barracking against convenience takeaways and sub-standard curry houses that I’ve let it get to me. Maybe what I’m used to now is a very plain lamb pasanda with lots of cream.
Either way, I’m sure I’ll go back to Tamarind. Just not in a hurry. The food is good, there’s no doubting it. Perhaps the a la carte will hold more promise whenever it is I get around to trying it. The problem though is this: does Indian food actually suit a grizzly Brick Lane café where the food is 20% off and your first round of drinks is free..? Maybe.
Tamarind
Peridot – Kensington, Wednesday 31st March
Peridot was a strange one, given that I’d never heard of it before and I had no real inclination to go there. It was suggested by the other half, who wanted to meet up with a friend and suggested the three of us give it a try on the last day of the month of offers.
It’s in a nice part of town (Gloucester Road), it’s part of a nice franchise (The Bentley Hotel) and it’s very grand. It’s almost like something out of a Disney cartoon, with its brighter-than-white room and excessive gold trim everywhere. The Landau this isn’t.
I can imagine the room might look replete with splendour if the correct clientele and occasion were hosted there. The décor suggests it might serve as an uber-pompous ballroom or function room, but the hotel’s quality doesn’t match it. I wouldn’t describe the place as cheap, but it’s not quite there, if you know what I mean.
Anyway, picture the whitest of polished rooms, lined with gold trim. Imagine you’re the only person sitting in it. Overwhelming, right? Well, that’s what happened to me. One year ago, I was stood up by a friend (who wasn’t well, to be fair) and I ended up eating in a massive hotel restaurant alone. This was a lot smaller, and since I was the only one in the entire restaurant it felt a lot lonelier. Fortunately my dining companions were only running late. Unfortunately, the three of us was the busiest the room got all night.
I was not that surprised at the restaurant’s lack of guests. Hotels that aren’t in the west end and that don’t have a celebrity chef aren’t normally splashed around the papers. I’d never heard of the place prior to March either, so I didn’t fully expect a huge amount out of the evening.
They scored a point very quickly with me, leaving a basket of delicious hot bread and butter at the table. Little touches count, and this was a big little touch. Unfortunately the starters were fairly atrocious. An utterly unforgettable chicken terrine with pineapple tasted as if the plastic packaging hadn’t been removed, and the crab cakes were no more than average. Disappointing, but with the low ceilings channelling noise from an empty restaurant into the kitchen, you daren’t say much about it.
The main course options were a little restrictive (at £25 each, c’est la vie…) but we tried to get a better scope of the place with some varied choices. After the lack of fellow diners and the poor starters, we were relatively impressed. Some salmon atop a mound of pearl barley accompanied by saffron sauce should’ve been wonderful, but instead only hinted at greatness. Conversely, the mushroom risotto with truffle oil looked uninspiring (has risotto ever looked inspiring, for that matter?) but tasted pretty fine. Never too thick or stodgy, the oil seeped in to fuel the dish perfectly. By no means a winner, but the best dish of the night so far.
Bizarrely, they opted to serve a choice of pastas with sauces for one of the main course options. Whilst this wasn’t appealing, the alternative of a stir-fry was even less, so we went for some classic carbonara. This was a surprising highlight. Thick, creamy and rich as a carbonara should be, there was nothing to fault here.
We split three fixtures for desserts: tiramisu, cheesecake and a chocolate fondant. I was keen to see how these traditional and currently very popular desserts would turn out. Well enough, in the event.
Peridot at The Bentley is dependent on how many guests stay in the hotel for its survival, I reckon. No-one really knows about it and, worryingly for them, it’s not that great. There were good parts on the table, but the menu is too confused, trying to find its feet in a selection of low-cost, low-difficulty meals.
I didn’t dislike my meal here by any means, but it was a surreal experience in an empty room. Zero atmosphere in the place, which did them no favours. One thing I will say in their favour was that the service was exceptional. And I know that with just one table to tend to it should’ve been, but over-zealous and disruptive service is common in quiet places. They were respectful and wonderfully polite.
Peridot
So, another year, another set of meals, another mixed set of results. The highlight was undoubtedly the meal at 1 Lombard Street, followed by The Landau. Peridot won weirdest experience of the month (never have I felt more like royalty than in that abandoned dining room), and Bentley’s was the shocker of the piece. Several places down, several more to go! Bring on the next money-off event.
