Hereford Road: Bayswater, Tuesday September 11th, 2012

September last year involved a few interesting events. A promotion at work (which has contributed directly to the decreased productivity of this blog) meant that there was a lot more to accomplish in a lot less time. All of a sudden I had become a company man, with remote access and therefore no excuse not to answer anything that was asked of me ever.

The culmination of a whirlwind few working months was a three-day long conference in town. The perfect preparation for which I had decided was a meal out at somewhere offering excellent and affordable British grub with a group of friends. Hereford Road had impressed me enough earlier in the year to suggest we try there with another group of six.

One thing I distinctly remembered from the first visit was how delicious their soup tasted. To that end, I was sold as soon as I saw the soup of the day: celeriac with seared foie gras (left). This was sumptuous, electrifying soup. The texture was just the right side of thin to be substantial, but not so thick as to be chewed. The taste was not overpowering either, which is often the problem with the flavour of celeriac. The foie gras was an obvious and beautiful touch of class; melting in the mouth and adding a rich, oily silkiness to the bowl.

The wife went for mussels steamed with cider and thyme (right). Mussels are a little wasted on me since I tend to find them overwhelmingly salty, but she loved them. I have to say on tasting one, I was a fan of the sweet cider glaze and fresh thyme on top. "Very fresh and delicious" was the consensus and I bow to the superior knowledge of others on this front.

Three rustic starters were devoured elsewhere without much ceremony (one friend was late coming to the table so she joined as main courses were on their way...) Some pickled chicory on the side of cold smoked duck breast was a simple classic. Smoked sprats and horseradish was an oily, flavoursome burst of delicious fish supported by a mild enough creamed horseradish sauce (left). More or less everyone else's starter was upstaged by the arrival of a whole artichoke served with vinaigrette, though (right). This was a real piece of theatre, with everyone in awe of the green globe on the table. The leaves of the artichoke were the meat of the dish, the chunkier, fleshier parts of the inner leaves to be chewed off and mixed with the spiced, sour dressing. In the event, a real treat and not half bad.

Main courses were a great variety between six of us, with meat, fish and vegetarian options taken. The veggie option in this case was a hearty mix of onion squash, courgettes and mushrooms, topped with Berkswell cheese (left). I was surprised how flavoursome this turned out to be and it was one of those rare vegetarian dishes which didn't actually need the meat. A grilled plaice with roast cauliflower, toasted crumbs and capers was exactly the unpretentious plate of English tradition it should have been (right).

The wife went for the glorious-sounding combination of lamb sweetbreads & tongue, fried potato, peas and mint (left). This was a hearty plate of expertly balanced food, appealing both visually and in terms of taste. The offal was cooked brilliantly, with enough give to make each mouthful a delight, especially when combined with such well-suited sides. The simplicity and integrity of plates like this deserve more recognition: this is how we should be eating once a week.

I had guinea fowl with courgettes and girolle mushrooms (right). Not quite in the same league as the wife's dish, this was a little on the dry side which was a shame. Good seasoning and mushrooms helped, but slightly overcooked courgette did nothing and I ended up feeling a little let down by my main course. That said, it could have been jealousy from having tried the lamb next to me...

Much of the discussion around the table during the evening had been on the nature of proper British cooking and eating (I was the only Englishman present, everyone else was from Asia). There are few things I enjoy more than introducing people to great, traditional English meals and this was a successful evening. One thing that I rarely have any disagreement on when it comes to British food discussion is dessert. As good as food from all corners of the world can be, there's nothing quite as comfortably satisyfing as a proper English pudding and Hereford Road's dessert list always reads well.

The wife ordered the chocolate terrine with créme fraîche and it was a sticky-sweet slab of rich chocolate (left). This wasn't overly spectacular or fancy to look at but the taste was pure indulgence with the rich, dark sweetness combining wonderfully with the soured cream on the side to provide a tempering balance.

On most nights, such a terrine would have been the last word but on this particular occasion it belonged to the rice pudding enjoyed by two of us at the table (right). Simply served with blueberries, this was actually good enough in its glorious simplicity to rival the wondrous Harwood Arms rice pudding of a few weeks before. Perfect, almost chewy consistency allied with a sweet fruit accompaniment was really the stuff dreams, memories and great meals are made of. Indeed, the friend who also ordered it claimed it nearly brought her to tears.

This is as good a place as any to re-state that, for a party of six, Hereford Road is just about as good as anywhere in London. It is affordable, friendly and casual and more often than not it turns out excellent unpretentious food. We all had a great evening and there was still time to get back to the pre-conference drinks in Covent Garden at the end of it.

This meal was a wonderful prelude to three days of meetings and networking: a totally relaxing dinner with good friends. The dishes were simple and reminded me of what great food is about and it brought a few people's recognition of British food into the modern age. Hereford Road really is one of my favourite places to eat in London.

Hereford Road