Opposition elsewhere came in the form of Channel 4's Ramsay's Best Restaurant. The Scotsman sent his minions out to sample the best restaurants in various categories across the UK. Each category then had a cook-off against each other, with the winner progressing to a next round meet against another winner. Or something. Typically over-sexed, outrageously brutish and glossed up to the nines. Absorbing viewing, but not on the same level as the BBC's show.
Vitally, each early episode of the Channel 4 show culminated with the two kitchens cooking opposing meals in Ramsay's flagship restaurant, the eponymous Restaurant Gordon Ramsay. By the time I was watching this programme, I had already eaten in the famous Michelin three-starred establishment, having taken the other half there for her birthday.
The cache that this restaurant holds is unbelievable. Until Alain Ducasse at The Dorchester was awarded Michelin's top honour a year ago, it was the only three-star restaurant in London. Its chef patron is the man who put his name on it, a man who fifteen years ago was genuinely a great chef as opposed to an overexposed, thinly stretched TV personality. Fortunately, the place is still in good hands. At the age of 29, Clare Smyth was made head chef of Ramsay's prize venue. She maintained the stars, continued the excellent cuisine and still presides over the kitchen to this day.
There is no doubt whatsoever that this is the restaurant in London which you can walk into and expect to be impressed with everything from the lighting to the petit fours. Everything about the place is supposed to exude class, excellence and near-celebrity panache. You ought to feel special, cared for and totally satisfied by the time you walk outside after eating. And reasonably so, too.
There is some fiasco you have to go through for booking a table though. Three months in advance, we called up and managed to scrape a 10:30 table on the Friday night. We then had to fax back a form confirming our table, saying that the restaurant could take some £300 off us if we didn't show up. To confound things on the night, we were late. I was half worried they'd keep a tardy meter ticking in the corner until we arrived, but they were terrifically understanding and in we went.
The restaurant itself looks like a private club from the outside. A simple black tablet, illuminated with Ramsay's autograph signifies how damned exclusive this place is. Unfortunately, the inside does not maintain the simple, elegant exterior. Cheap-looking panelled walls and by-the-numbers dining room carpet makes you feel as if you're eating on the set of Ramsay's show. It is a disappointingly stuffy and small room, which I didn't like from the minute we sat down.
Great restaurants should automatically employ great staff. It's a given that if you're paying anything above £50 for your meal, the service should be excellent and for £95 per head it had better be exceptional. This is where I got the first sense of what the three stars have been awarded for. It's amazing how quickly a rubbish dining room can be transformed by careful and compassionate service.
The maitre d', Jean-Claude Breton, is a long-standing colleague of Ramsay's, having first worked together at Aubergine in 1993. A fruitful partnership for sure, and the proof is certainly in the service. The guy is charming and charismatic in the extreme, with this clearly influencing the rest of the staff. Lightning quick to discover why we were at the restaurant and what the occasion was, they did their utmost to make us feel comfortable and that is exactly what people want in top end restaurants, which few ever deliver.
We were swiftly presented with a couple of amuse-bouche which were just the job to settle us in. Little mouthfuls of foie gras on the side of some wafer-thin crisps which contained pesto but still tasted fantastic. Our second pre-starter introduced a theme which continued throughout the evening: langoustine. They gave us some similarly thin cornets containing seafood-y stuff and it became clear that meals here are very true to high end French food: formal, excessive and holding nothing back.
After we had selected our menu choices, we were presented with our second langoustine dish; a pre-starter of consommé with a little caviar and the langoustines sliced in the middle of the bowls. Not necessarily a winner, but pleasant enough and palate-cleansing enough to pave the way for our starters.
It's no secret that I love a good bit of foie gras. The stuff, if done well, is enough to make me stand up to any protestations about it being cruel, abhorrent or unacceptable. At Royal Hospital Road, I found the peak of my paté experiences. Sautéed foie gras served with roasted veal sweetbreads, carrot purée and almond cappucino was, essentially, perfect (left). I actually laughed out loud as I took my first bite - it was that good. The creamy foie gras combined with the soft sweetbreads to form a light and delicate mouthful which still packed a heavy and meaty punch. Take this and add the sweet foam and rough purée and you have the best starter it has ever been my privelege to eat.
We also tried what was apparently a signature dish on the menu: seafood ravioli. The filling was langoustine (naturally), salmon and lobster. The ravioli was poached in bisque. The sauce was light, lemon-scented and delicate. The result was simply stunning (right). I don't think I've ever eaten a starter so vibrantly sea-centric and fresh. I felt as if I was taking a bite out of the ocean as I ate. A horrible cliché I know, but I can't really think of another way to put it. Just perfect.
The other half went for the lamb for her main course. A composite of best end (essentially the leanest, tenderest part of the beast), shank and confit breast, the summer vegetable sides and the combinations of meat were lovely (left). The overall dish wasn't quite the real deal for me, simply because it was a bit lightweight. There was something missing from it, but I couldn't really tell you what. I think it may be to do with the idea of light summer vegetables with such rich and varied meat. A contrast that worked, just not as well as I felt it might've done.
My main course was another long-standing favourite of mine: a bit of beef. It wasn't exactly put like that on the menu, but if you put an aged Casterbridge fillet with ox cheek and bone marrow on your menu, you will see me ordering that dish. Particularly at a restaurant where I had a pretty good notion it would be as good as a beef fillet could be. It was. Oh saints be praised, it really was (right). Stunningly cooked and served chunky steak, with the flaked ox cheek and gelatinous bone marrow sunken into the delightfully fluffy fondant potato. I couldn't really hope to have improved upon this dish in any way. (Except maybe getting rid of the spinach... Actually, scratch that; even the spinach was great.)
Main courses were an unadulterated triumph. We were both superbly happy with our choices and how they had been delivered. And for £95 per head, we ought to have been. So far, so good. Our pre-dessert was a champagne and strawberry soup, served with a big straw in a champagne glass (left). It was thick, comforting and not half as pretentious-tasting as it sounded. It set the tone for desserts and we instantly homed in on a tarte tatin for two.
Earlier in the summer, we had eaten what I described (quite honestly) at the time, as being the best French apple tart I had ever eaten at Launceston Place. It was thick, juicy, sweet as anything and just the ticket. The effort of Restaurant Gordon Ramsay leapt ahead in the league of tatin (right). Carved at the table, served over drizzles of caramel and with a pot of vanilla ice cream on the side, it was as showy as anything but that doesn't matter. Firstly because you're eating at one of the very showiest and best-renowned places in London, secondly because it tastes like a piece of heaven. It was just about perfect.Post-desserts served only to show off the kitchen's skills further and emphasise the fact that they were pushing the boat out for the sake of it by now. It's not necessarily that they didn't need these little morsels, just that they didn't need to do them in such an extrovert way. Or did they? Regular joes like us have to save up for this kind of meal. We expect a few fireworks at the table. We want to see what makes this place serve "exceptional cuisine, worth a special journey" (according to the Michelin classification of three stars.) So yes, do your worst, Smyth: let's see what Michelin three-star after-desserts taste like.
Amazing, as it turns out. Perversely, I'd hoped there was something in this meal I might be able to really take issue with, and it was just about a part of the after courses that did it for me. It certainly had nothing to do with the creatively served and rich tasting chocolate truffles that were silver-coloured and served on a model tree frame (left). It was the need for rosewater Turkish Delight, served on the side of the dry ice-chilled strawberry ice cream coated in white chocolate (right). I don't really like rose-flavoured stuff and Turkish Delight leaves me a little cold. But the ice cream with the chocolate was delightful: a really imaginative touch and something to send any diner away with a few stars in their eyes.It was half past midnight when we finally got out of the restaurant. We (or I: it was a present) had spent comfortably over £200 for three courses plus all the showy sides - and no alcohol - and we were happy. Really rewarded and satisfied. It was the best meal I have eaten to date, just edging out the efforts of Christian Le Squer in Paris. I was delighted with the evening and as happy as I've been after a meal.
I do think, however, that this is the way to do it if you want to eat at Restaurant Gordon Ramsay. Make sure it's a special occasion. Put away a little bit each month building up to the event. Take your time and expect to be impressed. Above all, enjoy yourself: if there is anything to be said for great French food in London, this place might be it. Ten years of three Michelin Stars and several high-ranking positions in the world's best restaurants doesn't count for nothing. Yes, it's pricey. Yes, it's unbelievably showy. Yes, the man who put his name on it might not be in the kitchen any more. But believe me, after you eat here, none of this matters.
Restaurant Gordon Ramsay
