The concept behind Kitchen W8 is an admirable one: to create a venue which is a step down from the sort of upper-class fare on display at The Square but maintain a comfortably high level of cuisine. The partnership has certainly been set up with big things in mind. Howard, with his considerable stake in The Square and a lesser share in The Ledbury, is certainly a man with massive London pedigree (another who trained under Marco Pierre White back in the day). Mascarenhas is not from the higher echelons of the London food world but clearly knows a thing or two about decent, mid-price cuisine. She has a stake in Sam's Brasserie in Chiswick, plus a couple of other suburban places about town. It's a pairing that should equal big success.
From the outset, there is little to dislike about a restaurant with such an impressively simple ambition. I had certainly wandered past on several occasions, wishing for a chance to go there. With no good reason for doing so outside curiosity and greed, we booked and prepared ourselves for an evening for which we held high hopes.
The décor of the restaurant is a symbol for the halfway house that it is. There is a lot to be said for affordable, good quality food but when you open a restaurant in Kensington with Phil Howard as part of it, there is something that is lost in translation. Nowhere is this more immediately apparent than in the simple, hotel-style beige of the place, dotted with paintings for sale at eyebrow-raising prices.
I'm not saying the place is badly decorated but it does not have the simple, welcoming air of a neighbourhood kitchen where a reasonably-priced meal is the order of the day. Similarly, the menu is not especially universal either. It is not cheap to eat a la carte here. But then, what should one expect from a restaurant just off High Street Kensington? We knew the price situation before we decided to visit and it was a hit we were prepared to take. So, with all our cards on the table and all the restaurant's on the wall, it was time to see what all the Michelin-starred local down-to-earth appeal was all about.
Some delicious crusty bread and salted butter got things started before an indulgent pre-starter of salted cod beignets (left). These were light but flavoursome, deep-fried breadcrumbed morsels which hit the spot instantly. If you're going to serve something as formal as pre-starters in an apparently informal setting, these are the sort of pre-starters you want to be serving. Never dry, nor too heavy either, these were precisely what you'd order to get yourself in gear for a meal.The menu itself read like a dream. The wife and I were promptly quibbling about who should order what and if an extra course or two might be appropriate. Of course, extra dishes would have been sheer greed (and yet more money) so I'm happy I talked the wife out of it, but what we did order filled us up with ease.
My starter was a raviolo of Oxtail with onions, mushrooms, bone marrow and vegetables (right). It was a picture to look at, the Oxtail parcel flanked by a twirling skirt of pasta, around which sat the mushrooms and a rich jus. The marrow perched proudly on top whilst the sweet, caramelised onions resided beneath. It was quite frankly heaven on a plate. The beef was cooked perfectly, retaining an enjoyable density which contrasted with the silky pasta and sweet, soft onion. Frankly, this is one of the best starters in recent memory. Simplicity in terms of the combination, elevated to the level of near-perfection with a few smart touches.
The wife was instantly drawn to the word "truffle" on the menu, as often happens. Her choice of crispy hen's egg with Jerusalem artichoke purée, pancetta, potatoes and truffle was predictable yet excellent (left). It was a simply-presented delight, with the perfectly-cooked egg halved and sitting proudly on top of the piece. The purée lent a smooth coating to the breadcrumbed egg but the little accompaniments were the show-stealers. Crisped pink fir apple potato halves with crunchy pancetta, between which sat the slivers of Perigord black truffle: stunning. Dishes like this deserve to be on menus everywhere and damn the expense.
Starters having blown our socks clean off, I was hoping for main courses to continue things in a similar vein. One dish I was intent on ordering with no second thoughts was some pot roast poussin. The small fillets of bird came with a pie made of the leg meat, crushed artichokes and creamed & truffled potatoes (right). It was every bit as divine as it sounds. Soft, succulent cuts of intensely flavoursome meat (which is why restaurants bother with poussin over chicken - that and the higher price) were centred around a stunning, buttery and flaky pastry pie. The hint of gaminess in the bird was accentuated here with a rich white sauce, yet the whole thing was tied together in the small details as with all great dishes. Artichokes for colour and texture, truffled mash for a rich finish. Why can't more main courses be like this?
The wife went for a special dish of the day: Pata Negra pork. We didn't know what the significance of the name was but the waiter assured us it was just about the best pork to be found anywhere. That was enough of an endorsement for us and it turns out that it roughly translates as "black hoof", or another name for Iberian ham. The pork came sliced, served with bacon gnocchi, fried onions and some purée that was hard to pick out but for texture alone was worth the inclusion (left). Outrageously moist, succulent pork was clearly the highlight here and the waiter's testimony was pretty accurate.
My mind was already blown by the time it came to dessert choices. The four dishes we'd sampled so far were as good as anything I could remember eating for quite some time. It was practically up there with Pollen Street Social for sheer quality. Our pudding selections were fruity rather than heavy, my choice being the rhubarb. It came poached, with rhubarb jelly, almond biscuits and vanilla ice cream (right).
It was worth going for, with the vibrant and fresh rhubarb cooked seconds on the right side of firm, whilst the jelly brought out the sweetness of the plant. The ice cream was a necessary difference of texture and temperature and the biscuits effectively filled in the role of crumble. Lovely, but not as amazing as the preceding courses had been. The wife went for a passion fruit posset, which sounded divine. It came with lime ice cream, orange, kiwi & thyme jelly (left). The combinations were startling, strong and well-balanced. The dish was a clever blend of bold flavours, tempered by the thyme jelly and the passion fruit in the posset - a much more sensible choice than the more common lemon.After three courses at Kitchen W8, I was almost annoyed at how hard everywhere else was going to have to work to match this. Every dish we had eaten had ticked most, if not all, boxes and the exceptional meal we were hoping for had been delivered with style. The sticking point I had was with the price: it was about £100 for the two of us. Now, for a Michelin-starred Saturday night out in Kensington that's about right, but I would expect it to be less for a place which brands itself as a neighbourhood haunt.
Maybe I'm being stingy though. It's hard for a restaurant to deliver as fully as this without having to pay a bit of a premium. Rather than an 'every month' kind of place, I'll leave Kitchen W8 in my 'special occasion' list. It has all the right attributes to be a continued success and, as long as you've got the spare funds, I cannot recommend a visit highly enough.
Kitchen W8
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