The Glasshouse: Kew, Friday 22nd April, 2011

The pursuit of Michelin Stars is an arduous one. You can go about it in different ways. There's the Petrus route of identifying the reviewers and then upping your game on the nights it really counts (I don't know how else they got their star immediately in the 2011 guide), the relentless effort and 18-hour days in the kitchen that broke Marco Pierre White during the 90s, the slow and steady accumulation of unavoidable excellence until everyone comes around to your quality (St. John) and there's the careful slipping into the mainstream, going all guns blazing on fashionable food and service.

After you get a star, where do you stop? Is one enough? Is the zenith of all restaurants three stars? Should any decent restaurant be satisfied until they have reached this peak? The answer to all of these questions, in my mind, is "who cares?". Stars often mean hiked-up prices and a stuffiness which detracts from some restaurants' charm and originality. There's sometimes a lot to be said for not having a Michelin Star or two.

However, it's rare that a restaurant has a Michelin Star without merit. There have been a few occasions where I've wondered, but usually the accolade is well-deserved. The higher level of service, ambience and food that are implied with a star usually shine through. Plus you get that smug feeling of having eaten at somewhere that has a Michelin Star.

The Glasshouse in Kew is part of a small but prestigious triumvirate of restaurants, including La Trompette and - most famously - Chez Bruce. Nigel Platts-Martin is the partner behind Bruce Poole's ownership of the venues and (given that he also has stakes in The Ledbury and The Square with Philip Howard) this guy is one to get on board when it comes to opening exclusive restaurant groups. It's a place I was happy to be going to.

We started the Easter weekend with a walk around Kew Gardens in some blistering April sun. Despite having lived in London nearly all my life, it was my first visit and I was suitably impressed by the verdent fields and extrovert plantations to consider a return sometime. However, the main event of the day was dinner. We went in to The Glasshouse having changed as much as possible from our daywear to look respectable and took in the restaurant.

It's a slick, chic, modern affair with all the polished wood and glass of a one-starred place. Fairly warm and welcoming, yet without the character and whimsy of some of its contemporaries, it doesn't wow as much as wave hello in a nonchalant way. Our food was a mixture of late spring in-season and traditional fare that appeals instantly. The former and latter were perfectly represented in our starters. A salad of cold smoked eel with beetroot and horseradish was about as suitable a choice as any on a hot spring day. Fortunately the dish was well balanced and worth the selection (left). Salty and silky eel with the mild bite of the beetroot was indeed the way it should be. A lovely start which set the evening up promisingly.

The second starter was something I was dying to try as soon as I saw it on the card. Jersey royal potato soup with thyme chantilly and croutons was, happily, as thick, delicious and comforting as it sounded (right). Steaming hot, which is exactly how a rustic potato soup should be served, it was taken to another level with the thick thyme cream and the crunchy croutons. I could've eaten two bowls of it.

The other half chose an interesting one for her main course: steak tartare. Now I'm as partial to some raw beef as anyone, but as a main course it always strikes me as a little excessive. The menu surprised me too, labelling it as 'raw, spicy beef'. I know modern and quirky are so fashionable now but it seemed a little odd to me. The other part of the dish I was interested in were the pomme sarladaise it was served with. These turned out to be potatoes pounded flat and served in a sheet (left). Strange for sure (and not, apparently, how these potatoes are always served) but it did work. The rocket salad with notes of truffle running through it and the quail egg on top of the beef eventually made for a rather impressive, if slightly muddled, dish.

My main course was a lot more rustic and earthy: pork, veg and potatoes. Slightly more detailed version: slow-cooked pork cheeks with creamed potatoes and young vegetables. There was also apparently 'sauce charcutiere' with it, which I more or less enjoyed as 'gravy'. The stew itself was delicious, with the cheeks moderately chewy and intensely meaty (right). The vegetables had mixed success, with delicious peas and carrots offset slightly by miniature raw radishes and turnips which were too sharp.

Our desserts went back to classics: a crème brûlée and a lemon tart. Each of us chose the one dearest to our heart: the other half straight on the burnt cream. This particular effort was served on top of apricot compote which lent a pleasantly Enlish twist to a usually simple French classic. Enjoyable if unspectacular.

My lemon tart was also very pleasant, served with custard ice cream. This sort of combination should work fantastically as long as the components are correct. The tart was accomplished and zesty without being exceptional. Lemon tart can often be a little insubstantial and thin, but this was thicker and more comforting (left). Unfortunately, the ice cream was just too weak on the custard to taste. It could've been brilliant, but ice cream is simply too cold to make with mild custard.

As an evening, it was not a failure but neither was it what one might anticipate from a Michelin-starred restaurant. At times wonderful, at others sub-par, it wasn't quite as consistent as I expected for sure. That said, I would go back to the Glasshouse. It's small, charming and affordable. £40 for three courses here is amongst the best value I've seen in London. It's worth a visit if you're at Kew Gardens or in the south west, no doubt.

The Glasshouse