The Big 30th: 28th June - 4th July, 2013

Some time ago, the wife turned 30 and I organised a series of meals out along with food-themed treats across a weekend. Coupled with an engagement, I felt I had successfully co-ordinated an enjoyable celebration. I'm a really bad gift-giver and celebration organiser at the best of times usually. I don't know what it is about other people's birthdays that brings the curmudgeon in me out. Maybe it's having to buy things for people who aren't me.

On the flipside, I'm not much of a birthday kind of guy when it's my own either. I'm usually happy with a decent meal and some sort of immature larking about which reminds me of being a teenager. I hadn't planned much for my 30th but the wife had been busy and as such, around a week before the big day, a run of surprises began which lasted almost a week. I hadn't been prepared for it but it was some adventure.

Friday 28th June: Aspley's, A Heinz Beck Restaurant, Knightsbridge

If she wanted to start things off with a bang, the wife could hardly have picked a better place to get things started. Last year she'd brought me here for a Valentine's Day surprise and we'd had a great time. It's somewhere we've enjoyed for as long as we've been coming here, and I've rarely heard a bad thing about it from others also.

This time though, we were going for a la carte. She insisted I basically order whatever I want. I briefly toyed with the idea of going for the £350 caviar to start, if only to see her reaction but thought better of it. Upmarket Italian food on a four course a la carte was such a wonderful way to begin the weekend. As ever at Heinz Beck, it always starts with the bread. It's one of the few places where I don't feel compelled to ask for butter, such is the crisp quality of the striga and the breadsticks (left).

Our pre-starter was a mille-feuille of ricotta, pea & carrot foam (right). It was extraordinarily light and a great introduction to the meal. The flavours were both palette-cleansing and distinctive, which told me we were in for a treat.

We both started with seafood. Some scallops were delicately prepared (they were hardly cooked) and served with fresh asparagus, tomato and dressed very simply with herbs (left). Normally I like scallops to be fried with some caramelisation and character, but there was something in the soft meatiness of these wonderful shellfish which I really enjoyed. The freshness of the accompaniments were a well-judged, summery delight which made for a surprising and enjoyable starter.

We also went for lobster since seafood was the theme of the early evening (right). This was the Heinz Beck interpretation of lobster salad, with the lobster meat gently prepared and butter-knife soft. It was high-quality lobster, meaning it retained a lovely fleshy bite but was properly complimented with some imaginative sides. The shoestring potatoes added some saltiness and a pleasant crunch whilst the confit tomatoes were a perfect match for the salad and the balsamic dressing.

Since four courses was the order of the evening, once seafood was done we turned our attention to pasta. The wife was in the mood for more seafood and chose a course of "Artisan Maccheroncini" with smoked aubergine and langoustine (left). The rather confusingly-named pasta is essentially elongated macaroni which I found undercooked in the event. It was too chewy which left the rest of the dish fairly redundant. The sauce was a thick and rich tomato, the aubergine underneath added some smoky colour and the langoustine was as expected but when you don't like the pasta in a pasta dish, it's just not enough. That said, the wife did enjoy it so I can only tell you what I thought...

My dish on the other hand was the delight I had expected it to be because I'd had it there before: the glorious, sumptuous faggotelli carbonara (right). A slightly bigger portion than the set menu course I'd once had, this was the same rich, smooth, satisfying dish of comfortable flavours and perfect execution wrapped in an upmarket package. It remains one of my favourite pasta dishes.

Next up was meat. I tend to struggle with some Italian meat dishes since I've often found them a touch dry or underwhelming. I admire how rustic and honest an Italian meat dish can be (after all, I once wrote about how much I loved one I ate in a café in Tuscany) but elevating them to a Michelin-starred level is no joke. In our case, the first was a great affirmation of how something simple and Italian can be brought to a higher level: a fillet of beef (left). This was a Casterbridge fillet, perfectly - and surprisingly evenly - cooked medium rare with a great char on the crust. The balsamic reduction added a beautiful sharpness and touch of sweetness to the dish whilst the parmesan crisps added enough flavour to justify their presence as a bit of theatre.

The wife's main course was a more ambitious idea of venison cooked in yoghurt (right). This sounded slightly strange on paper but the idea was (I assumed) to marinate and soothe the meat with the yoghurt, but it wasn't something I'd seen before, much less tried. The meat was a consistently tender perfection, with the natural gaminess prominent but tempered with the earthier accompaniments of shredded purple potatoes and crispy & braised salsify. The small cereal pearls encasing the venison added a pleasant crunch on the outside of the meat, avoiding that most unfortunate situation where you have an evenly-cooked piece of meat with no bite or variation.

Desserts turned out to be an adventure in opulence. Things were started with an exquisite-looking pre-dessert for the two of us to share (left). This was a delicate but rich mixture of blueberry sorbet, muesli and white chocolate mousse. The muesli was a coating for the mousse, adding texture and fun to remind us exactly why we still bother with frills such as pre-desserts.

We shared a 'chocolate & vanilla sphere' which contained a raspberry centre for our first dessert proper (right). There's something magical about a simple flavour profile in a well-executed combination such as this. A perfectly-formed chocolate exterior shell housing sweet vanilla cream and a raspberry bubble of flavour in the centre was a delight. The tempered chocolate 'leaves' and the edible flowers only added to the spectacle. This was delicious in that it reminded me how essential it is to tap into childhood sweet-toothed delight when forming a dessert.

Given the occasion, the venue and the way the meal had gone so far, the chocolate soufflé seemed like a natural choice (left). The wife in particular can never resist a soufflé and this one, with more raspberry (sauce and fresh fruit) and vanilla (ice cream on the side) was a super way to see things off. It was rich, exceptionally risen and everything a proper, smart upmarket dessert should be. What we lacked in adventure by ordering two desserts with similar flavour combinations, we made up for in gluttonous enjoyment.

One final surprise turned up in the form of yet more pudding, with the wife having arranged a nicely understated birthday surprise for me (right). Some delicious red fruit sorbet with chocolate soil and just about the most elegant "happy birthday" you will ever see on a plate was another triumph. Whilst I never want to make a fuss about my ageing. this is the sort of quiet satisfactory sweet touch I enjoy.

Heinz Beck at The Lanesborough may not be in operation anymore and it's a crying shame. I'd eaten at this place several times and not once had I been disappointed. Anywhere that can elevate humble Italian food to these heights whilst maintaining excellent poise and service is absolutely a gem by me. I've not been to the new place at the Lanesborough but it has to go some to equal the magnificence of what preceded it.

The Lanesborough Hotel

Saturday 29th June - Medlar, Chelsea

The first visit we had taken to Medlar was a resounding triumph. An affordable luxury riding the crest of a wave that had sent it near the top of everyone's list, it was a refreshingly modern restaurant treating diners with respect and care. Following a rather surprising stop for a massage (I wondered if that was more a gift for her than me), I was very excited to be going back for dinner rather than lunch.

We were lucky to get a table, especially on a Saturday. I am sure we must have been the lucky beneficiaries of a cancellation - they're so casual they don't take card details for bookings - and at around 9pm we sat down to eat. The menu was a predictably appetising take on what people want to eat at modern London restaurants on hot summer evenings; a combination of light, easy and unpretentious ingredients.

The wife started out with some cod cheeks served with borlotti beans, runner beans, courgettes, gremolata and morteau sausage (left). Whilst the fish was well-prepared and generally pleasant, the rest of the dish wasn't particularly cohesive, with what should have been a pleasing medley of supporting vegetables and garnishes falling slightly short. It was an idea that was sadly not quite realised.

Fortunately, I had no such trouble with my starter of tagliatelle, girolles, broad beans, pecorino and summer truffle (right). This was a more complete starter, possibly by virtue of having one or two less ingredients on the plate. The pasta was thin and fine, the truffle rich yet understated. The beans, cheese and a light cream sauce brought the whole thing together, with each mouthful punctuated with the well-balanced flavour of the mushrooms. It was a delightful way to start a summer meal.

Moving on to main courses, we were very much in the mood for meat and some roast poussin was right on the mark (left). It was a classic combination of breast and slightly more caramelised leg meat, with a well-judged, smooth cauliflower purée. This also came with girolles, suggesting Medlar had taken a recent delivery, but when the quality of their accompaniments were such as these, everything worked perfectly.

The other main course we chose had us both practically fighting for it as soon as we read the menu: a rack of lamb (right). Cooked a perfect pink, served with confit shoulder for texture and a little tongue just to show off, sitting atop petit pois a la Française with Jersey royal potatoes, it was exactly the way it should have been. Whilst some of the presentation up to this point had been a little over-sauced and at times confusing (see the cod starter), this was an expertly-plated piece of meat with exactly the dressing it deserved.

We had hurtled through this meal pretty unceremoniously and with a fair helping of bread to start with also. I wasn't feeling overly in the mood for desserts (as if I'd ever resist) but I did need to go for something a little lighter. As it happened, the lemon curd ice cream with blackcurrant compote and meringues sounded perfect (left). Of course the wife had insisted they add some more birthday paraphernalia but the pudding itself was just what I needed: a simple bowl of comforting, ever-so-British summer dessert.

The wife was feeling more adventurous and opted for the crème chiboust with strawberries, strawberry sorbet and honeycomb (right). I might not have been in the mood for a full-on dessert but I was not resisting the urge to help out here. The cream pudding (made from the same basic recipe as cream layers in a mille-feuille) was light, sweet and satisfying, with the strawberries adding their natural refreshing acidity, a pleasant temperature variation within the sorbet and sweetness and crunch from the honeycomb. A nice touch was some candied citrus peel on top to add another layer to what was a surprisingly engaging dessert. It was a super end to proceedings.

After a helping of predictably excellent, rich chocolate truffles to see us on our way, we were done. It was an unexpected and enjoyable evening, despite a slightly mis-fired starter and a troupe of motorcyclists seemingly determined to ruin everyone's evening by noisily racing up and down the Kings Road for much of the evening.

There is a relaxed charm to Medlar. It is clearly not perfect but that almost makes it better. It is not intimidating, pretentious or overly geared towards special occasions. And this was a cheap meal - the standard set price of £42 for three courses still applied. When you combine such value with this location, it's nothing to sniff at. Another birthday meal leaving me happy.

Medlar

Sunday 30th June - Burger & Lobster, Soho

The Sunday was a scorcher. The wife had very thoughtfully organised a day in the park with some friends which left us sunburnt and full of picnic food. I thought this was the day done but she had also planned to take me to a branch of the (then) fairly new comfort food chain Burger & Lobster. I'd heard enough about it from reviews, websites and various associates to know that this was one of the very popular places in town. Whilst I wasn't super hungry, I was excited to be trying somewhere new and interesting.

The Mayfair branch (which we were closest to) was closed, so we headed to the heaving Soho joint. As with just about every new easy eatery in London these days, booking was impossible but we got ourselves a table fairly quickly. The menu (if it can be called such at Burger & Lobster) was a simplistic delight of having either burger or lobster. A fancy burger, a half lobster or a lobster roll; all served with salad and chips for £21.

We decided in the best interests of sharing and indulging that the burger and the roll were the way to go. The burger was a pleasant, juicy, filling affair (left). Served a pleasing medium-rare with the right amount of dressing and tomato inside, it was an enjoyably fulfilling dish. The salad was about right, a mixture of leaves, onions and balsamic dressing with a little powdery parmesan for extra flavour. The chips were thin and appealing but in the event, way too salty. We all know salt adds flavour and of course the place was just trying to get us to order more drinks but this was certainly overkill.

The lobster roll, however, was a different proposition altogether (right). This was a light, satisfying, refined, comforting sandwich. The lobster was soft, meaty and its flavour shone through the perfectly-weighted mayonnaise and the fresh chives diced on top. Every bite energised you enough to want another one - we were practically fighting over who got to have more of it.

Burger & Lobster is a fun, easy place to go to eat. Their gimmick is a sound one, the quality is there or thereabouts and it is a nice place to spend some time during an evening, whether you're going to while away a couple of hours or for some sophisticated food on the go. The burger is good, the chips and salad I can take or leave, but the lobster roll is just wonderful.

Burger & Lobster

Wednesday July 3rd - Alain Ducasse at the Dorchester

This was the big one. And it wasn't even on the big one or planned as such. The wife had decided that the run of meals and surprises had not quite done the job at this point, so on a whim decided to see if a midweek table was available at one of London's two three Michelin-Starred venues. As luck would have it, they could seat us and, dressed to the nines, we embarked upon one of the least expected top-end meals either of us have eaten.

As with the Heinz Beck meal which started this lengthy celebration, the wife was in a generous and extravagant mood and suggested we go for four courses and damn the expense (she was paying after all.) Reading the menu was an exercise in high-end French standards; something which tends to fill me with a little dread these days. Truffles, lobster, foie gras, langoustines... all the classics which suggest you're about to enjoy something special. Or tired. Or trite.

One thing that no upmarket, multi-starred French eatery should be short on is pre- and post- courses throughout a meal. Alain Ducasse at The Dorchester is no exception. We started with a pile of gougeres, flavoured with salt, pepper and paprika (left). These were light, delicate, evenly-tasting of the seasoning and the cheese. Moving a little more up the scale, we then had a fairly extravagant sauteed squid dish with white asparagus and a quenelle of citrus cream (right). This was certainly generous for a course which wasn't even on the menu but didn't quite hit the spot for me. The wife really enjoyed it, and the squid was cooked very well to be fair. The seafood sauce was quite pleasant but the whole thing was a little wet and flat for me.

Something about the menu annoyed me. They emphasised the main event within each dish by capitalising it on the page. I felt like they were either shouting at me or patronising me. This might sound like a minor complaint, but when the place has three stars and is generally as fancy as anything, you're almost looking for a reason to nit-pick. I chose the "DUCK FOIE GRAS" for my starter, which had been roasted with cherries (left). The menu had it with almonds too but I went without. The foie gras itself was not bad; pleasantly seared for a creamy, rich, sweet finish, yet the cherries overdid the whole thing. They were clearly there to cut through the rich oily paté with some acidity but it was too much. A combination of crushed and soft whole cherries unfortunately riddled the dish with a fruity burst which clouded the whole plate.

The wife chose a starter of "LOBSTER" (last time I promise) which had been cooked with lobster sauce, truffled quenelle of chicken and fresh pasta (right). There was a £10 supplement on this but I wasn't surprised, given the venue and the main feature of the dish. The plate was spectacular, the food was incredible. The wife was in raptures from the first mouthful and I have to agree this was something special. Of course, any cynic can argue that when you take a handful of outstanding ingredients you should be able to put together an outstanding dish, but so much of the difficulty in something like this is in balancing such bold flavours. This was expertly done, with firm, boisterous lobster countered by the delicate pasta, the light and fragrant lobster sauce and the punchy chicken quenelles. A hint of truffle for richness and decadence, a touch of mushroom to ground the whole thing and we were suddenly very convinced that high-end French standards were worth the shouty menu.

Given the outrageous success of the wife's starter, I couldn't wait for my fish course. Lobster with fondant potatoes and girolle mushrooms sounded too good to be a problem of any sort. It looked sensational (left). The problem was that it just short of the starter we'd already had. It was still well-cooked and properly conceived, but it missed the mark on execution. The lobster was not as succulent, the ingredients didn't sing together as they might've, the sauce was not all there and I was disappointed that this was merely a good dish as opposed to a stellar one.

The wife's fish course didn't excite me that much. It was fillet of halibut, served with shellfish and celeriac with a simple mariniere sauce (right). I am not usually a fan of white fish since I find the taste can quite often be bland and a little uninspiring. In this case, all the elements on the dish combined to make a pleasant and surprising plateful. The fish was very tender and the sauce was rich enough to give it a punch of flavour to help elevate the whole thing. I wasn't that impressed with how it looked but as a tasting experience it was a hit.

Meat courses were next and I jumped at what I assumed was going to be the star of the evening. A veal loin with peas a la française was a tantalising thought. Veal when cooked well can be a delight and few sides appeal to me the way French peas do. Rich, creamy sauce with bacon and fresh peas is a thing of beauty. The dish didn't turn out quite as I had expected though (left). The peas were a strange deconstruction of the humble dish I enjoy so much, with onion, green shoots and leaves and a hunk of bacon on top. The problem with messing with a classic like this is when it goes wrong, it really crashes. And this went wrong in my book. The meat was okay, but was not on the same level as parts of the meal had been so far. This was the first thing we'd eaten where I had been fairly disappointed.

The wife, on the other hand, had hit the jackpot for the third dish running. I shouldn't have been surprised since she went for a beef fillet Rossini (right). This was every bit the rich, tender, succulent dish it should have been, with a delicious medium-rare fillet steak the star. The sauce was rich and throaty, the crunchy lettuce on the side a perfect foil for the strong beef. The foie gras was perfectly measured with the rest of the plate, sitting atop a bread crouton. Dishes like this don't need much meddling with, and this had been judged to near-perfection. Again, I was left ruing my decision not to go for something I'd usually be inclined to try. Certainly worth the £10 supplement.

Before dessert, there were some more mid-service surprises. We were presented with some chocolate ganache truffles and macarons (left). The chocolates were smooth and deliciously bittersweet. The macarons were an exciting mixture of orange, raspberry, chocolate and cherry. All perfectly made, light, crunchy, flavoursome and moreish. These were great pre-desserts aside from the fact that we wanted to keep eating them and pass on actual dessert.

Of course, proper dessert was never in doubt and the wife went for the summer berries with mascarpone (right). I get the sense this was the restaurant phoning it in slightly. There wasn't a huge amount of complexity or outstanding technique in this. That said, the balance of acidic, sweet fruit, meringue crunch and soothing, mild cheese in the cream was up to scratch. There's nothing really wrong with combining classics like these at any level. Despite the slightly haphazard appearance, it was well enjoyed.

I opted for the sane choice to finish: a soufflé (left). Flavoured with apricot and served with rosemary ice cream and apricot jam, I was fairly convinced this was going to leave me nothing but satisfied. It was a very well-made soufflé, at a perfect temperature and served elegantly. The flavour itself was excellent and I would have enjoyed it more had it not been for the cold dagger of rosemary sharpness cutting through everything. Sometimes less is more and I wish they had kept things simple by using a more neutral flavour for the side to what was otherwise a fine dessert.

We indulged in a couple of post-desserts which were delicious but entirely unnecessary at this point. Just as I thought there could be no more in store, the wife had a birthday cake brought out (right). This was a very sweet touch and one that I was not expecting at all since the booking had been made at short notice. We were far too full to eat any cake at the time but we got through it over the ensuing days and it was a gorgeous, lighter-than-light sponge with proper icing and a real treat.

Alain Ducasse at the Dorchester is a fine example of real top-end dining. The service was perfectly judged, the room stunning, the ambience a relaxing purr. The problem in a couple of instances was the menu. Dishes that should have hit the spot and didn't are never a good thing, but they are nearly unforgivable at this level. Whilst one should never expect perfection, one should gain as near as possible at a restaurant like this.

It was a lovely evening, a genuine surprise and an experience I won't forget. Even when places aren't perfect, as long as there's enough to enjoy it usually means the evening was worth it. It's certainly not cheap but I'm sure I could be tempted back again one day.

Alain Ducasse at the Dorchester

Palm Court at The Langham - West End, Thursday July 4th

After the majesty and occasion of The Dorchester, I couldn't help but feel the rest of the week was going to be relaxing aside from a pre-planned dinner with the family. Of course, with a day off work on the big day, the wife had big plans and afternoon tea was taken. We'd actually been here before, though not for any particular occasion and certainly not for a formal afternoon tea. In this case, it was a proper side table in the main tea room, and a full afternoon tea to get through.

A posh, west end afternoon tea is always somewhat lost on me since I've never been much of a tea drinker. As far as I'm concerned, you need decent sandwiches, good cakes, cracking scones and hang the hot beverages. The problem with afternoon tea for any hotel trying to push an upmarket afternoon out is that there's little room for manoeuvre and even less room to hide. If you try to jazz things up too much, you invariably end up looking foolish. If you try to stick to the classics, any small mistake is irreparably heightened. Basically, you have to do what The Dorchester does.

Palm Court had chosen the safe route, which is generally the right way to go and we were both fairly pleased with the menu on offer. The sandwiches to start were about as classic as one could get with afternoon tea: salmon, egg, beef, chicken, prawns. In fact, they did miss a trick by omitting the traditional cucumber and cream cheese, but the choice was impressive.

We tried one of each, each. Naturally. The array was visually quite pleasing, with enough safe breaks from uniformity to keep things interesting (left). As is often the case, the roast beef was a winner, with tarragon mustard and cress adding some lightness and spice to the rich meat. The egg mayonnaise was also a pleasant classic, served in a soft white roll. The salmon with creme fraiche and caraway, served in an almost bitter chocolate-like bread was not doing it for me, with no real merit in the serving or the ingredients. So far, so standard.

Where scones are concerned, I am forever torn between eating proper-sized workman's café scones with flora and cheap jam and the miniature masterpieces with clotted cream you get in hotels. I think the compromise is somewhere in between, though that usually means one has to go to Cornwall for a scone served with the precise size and correct sides. In lieu of several hours driving, when one is in the west end, one eats dainty, two-bite scones with impeccable sides. Or at least that's the plan.

These were decent scones, though not much more than that (right). Dusted with icing sugar for a nice party look, they were warm and served with plenty of room temperature clotted cream (the only way) and rich strawberry jam. We devoured these without much pause aside the wife adding her standard inadvisable amount of clotted cream to each mouthful. These were certainly nothing to sniff at.

The cakes (I can never really call a cake course "pastry" considering scones have just been taken) followed, which were another round of standards with a twist (left). These were good basic ideas which had, in general, been taken too far from the original to be easily identifiable. The banana cake, for example, turned out to be two small round sponges. Not necessarily bad, but definitely lacking the same kind of satisfying sweet stickiness a classic banana cake brings. Equally, the two pastry coffins containing a decent enough ganache were not exactly what I'd call "chocolate tart".

There were two things that annoyed me about the dessert plate. Firstly, the 'Victoria sponge' was nothing like the sort of light, mild cake with sweet jam and fine icing within and more of a leftover sponge cylinder with buttercream icing and decorative sweets. Secondly, the menu had billed 'strawberry meringue' and hibiscus & blackcurrant jelly', which turned out to be one dessert. Playfully presented as a lollipop-slash-macaroon on the plate, it was not as fun as the former and not as refined as the latter. Not bad necessarily but not memorable for the right reasons either.

Afternoon tea at The Langham was not one for the ages or anything to threaten some of the better afternoon teas one can get in London. At times decent, at times poor, most of all rather uninspiring, the menu certainly needs a re-think. The room itself is a well-lit, pleasant place to be but the afternoon tea is not matching the locale and the atmosphere.

Palm Court at The Langham

La Trompette - Chiswick, Thursday July 4th

No birthday is complete without a family meal as far as I'm concerned. Every year we tend to use birthday as a good reason to get everyone together. I certainly see less of my immediate family than my siblings, so birthdays tend to be a decent excuse. We picked La Trompette, not only as somewhere I'd enjoyed previously, but somewhere not too central or overly expensive. One thing I've always admired about this place is the fact that Michelin-starred dining remains competitively priced.

The problem with trying to review a meal with six around the table is that it's damned difficult to try everything. The good news is that everyone had a lovely evening. There were some hitches, notably the fact that my sister-in-law was drenched in champagne when one of our waitresses spilled a glass on her. My father also found the sommelier a little overbearing when trying to order wine. This is foreign territory to me, but when someone knows what they're talking about, it's best to let them decide what to have instead of trying to be prescriptive.

I decided to get started with the summer vegetable salad, possibly to try and compensate for the day's earlier afternoon tea (right). It was not the prettiest plate I've seen but it was tasty. Chilled fresh peas with a pea bavarois combined a pleasant softness and temperature variation. Fresh asparagus is never a bad thing in summer, with carrots (not so summery), a perfectly crisp pheasant egg and grated ewe's cheese topping things. It was a well-balanced effort which I enjoyed a lot and was certainly perfect for a warm summer's evening. It wasn't quite at the level of a salad I'd enjoyed at Launceston Place previously - their dish reminded me a little of this - but very worthy in the event.

The wife started with veal tartare, which was served with asparagus, artichokes, potatoes and tuna cream (left). Whilst I was slightly taken aback by the initial description (I later discovered this to be a classic Italian combination), the actual plate as a whole was enjoyable. The veal was as tender as anything and sat wonderfully well with the asparagus and artichokes in particular. These were grilled to add a little smokiness to the plate, with the fried potatoes bringing a delightful crunch. It was excellent eating.

My main course leapt off the page at me despite it appearing as somewhat out of season. A guinea fowl dish with girolles would usually be right at home in autumn but I'm a sucker for any sort of classically-presented game and I was pleased with my choice (right). The breast was moist and expertly-cooked, combining predictably well with the braised leeks and mushrooms. The raviolo of braised leg was very nice but slightly too thick for me. As a dish it was another winner, with safe but well-executed combinations making the whole thing work.

The wife went for some fish for her main course, with the dish of choice being another that required little deliberation. A fillet of roast seabass atop farfalle pasta with lemon thyme and chicken roasting juices with mushrooms is the sort of thing that needs no second invitation (left). This was a delicious, meaty piece of fish which was superbly supported by the quality of its sides. The fresh pasta added a slightly lighter yet grounding touch to the plate, combining wonderfully with the rich chicken gravy and mushrooms to create a plate that made you want to take another bite with each mouthful. A seriously memorable dish and one that, yet again, made complete sense.

When eating in restaurants, I usually try to insist the table eats as many varied dishes as possible to keep things interesting and to get a good idea of what the restaurant is about. In this case, five of the six of us had the same dessert and I wasn't about to complain with the consistency. When one sees a banana soufflé with honeycomb ice cream on a menu, it just has to be ordered (right). This was a spectacular dessert which we all loved. A couple at the table felt it was a bit over-sweet which I can appreciate, but it didn't stop the wife and I finishing their leftovers. It was rich, light, comforting and had a wonderfully natural taste. I love banana but it can often taste a little artificial when incorporated into desserts and confectionery. This was a special dessert and one we all remember fondly.

This was a special evening at the end of a very special few days. We all enjoyed ourselves despite the champagne shower (not a euphemism) and the slightly patchy service. This is food that is properly thought-out, unpretentiously served and generally very delicious. La Trompette expanded their restaurant into the holdings next door a few years back and it seems like a sound move. Always busy, never over-crowded and managing to straddle that fine line between neighbourhood favourite and special occasion venue, this is somewhere that should run and run.

La Trompette

If birthdays are spent doing what one enjoys, then a birthday full of eating was certainly the ticket for me. It was a fun week, taking in mainly enjoyable meals. I think the highlight was most probably Heinz Beck, despite it being first out of the gate. This was a series of meals leaning towards upmarket food, but the down-to-earth Medlar menu on a Saturday night was refreshingly simple and pleasant, whilst Burger & Lobster could have been a triumph but for some heavy-handedness with the salt.

Whilst I don't think the wife's birthday was ever likely to be topped (he said proudly), this was a lovely few days of memorable food with loved ones. A fulfilled life shouldn't need much more than that. Plus, it was six Michelin Stars in six days which is a pleasant feat to look back on.

The Palm Court at The Park Lane Hotel: Mayfair, Sunday 13th January, 2013

Our first wedding anniversary was upon us and since this was such a momentous occasion, we had to celebrate with several meals, apparently. On the actual day (Monday), I booked us a dinner at Le Vacherin, about which I would find it hard to write more. On the Saturday, the wife surprised me with an out-of-town trip to The Hand & Flowers in Marlow which we were both excited about, but failed to deliver.

That left the Sunday, which happily meant we could eat somewhere in London and I could review it. Given that we had a fairly extravagant dinner on the Saturday and another on the Monday, the Sunday was effectively some light relief with afternoon tea. We've sampled some excellent afternoon teas over the past few years (the outright best still being The Dorchester) so trying a new place is always exciting.

This time we opted for The Palm Court at the Park Lane Hotel which, for the most part, follows The Dorchester's method of making the lobby the place to be. It is every inch a luxury Mayfair hotel, with high ceilings, plenty of natural light, opulent décor and generally a well-furnished setting in which to take in some sandwiches and scones.

The standard tea menu costs £33 which is high enough to reasonably expect a better than average afternoon tea. Add to that they had just won the Tea Guild's Award of Excellence for 2013 and suddenly I was hoping for an experience to rival The Dorchester. In terms of setting, there is definitely something to be said for the grandiose Art Deco room at The Palm Court and the lighting in particular was quite amazing. However, I am one for comfort when it comes to eating an afternoon tea and The Dorchester's unique blend of relaxed, warm intimacy just edged it for me.

The food itself is what really counts though. The description of the finger sandwiches certainly read well and as they were served, we were reasonably expectant (left). There were some hits and some misses here. The coronation smoked chicken with watercress on raisin bread was a resounding triumph; a sweet and juicy filling, framed imaginatively with the raisin bread. Equally, the roast beef with rocket and wasabi was carried off with little fault. The rest were less impressive though. Grated egg on carrot & herb bread was confusing, salmon on peso bread was unnecessary and the crab meat on brown bread was okay but far too dry.

This gets to the real problem with the sandwiches: they were all a bit dry and a bit underwhelming overall. Despite interesting and generally good combinations, if you're going to serve finger sandwiches which are starting to show signs of staleness, you're already losing the diner. These were not great sandwiches in the main, affected by some iffy presentation (at these prices, in this setting, I expect my sarnies to be ruler-straight cut) and some questionable freshness. What really sums it up is we didn't have any seconds.

The scones were next. Typically served with preserves and clotted cream, they were a pleasant step up from the sandwiches (right). I enjoyed these more than the wife, who said they were "pretty normal". I particularly enjoyed the fact they were nicely raised, meaning they were light and easy to cut, but still retained a bit of bite. The jams and cream were all of a standard where we took plenty more than was necessary which is something of a ringing endorsement. A definite improvement.

Finally, pastries were brought to the table (left). Now I was initially impressed with the vibrant array of colours and shapes on show but I had one substantial fear: these had been rolled over on a trolley which had been on show in the dining room since we had arrived. I may not be a pastry chef but I know if you leave a variety of soft sponge cakes and slices out in the open for any length of time they aren't going to be in the best condition when they arrive at the table. This was a let-down because all the sponges - chocolate, lemon, mixed fruit - were essentially spoiled before we'd even eaten them. It didn't help that virtually all the icings and glazes were too gelatinous and thick also.

If you've read (or even skimmed) my review of afternoon tea at The Dorchester, you'll already know The Palm Court just isn't in the same league. It is a gorgeous room with big ideas but seemingly little knowledge on how to execute them. It was indeed a memorable weekend but, following the relative disappointment of England's only two-Michelin Starred pub, this was another downer. There is wonderful afternoon tea to be had in London, which means I'm unlikely to come back to The Palm Court at The Park Lane Hotel.

The Palm Court

Spatisserie at The Dorchester: Mayfair, Saturday September 15th, 2012

After the outrageous indulgence of her birthday in 2011 (it was her 30th after all...), the wife was calmly assured that the celebrations last year were to be altogether more reasonable and affordable. As such, it was up to me to arrange a few small things which eventually culminated in a four course home-cooked meal for her. I personally thought I did a good job as chef but she did find some fault with every course I put before her. So, if you think I can be harsh...

The birthday weekend began with a trip to The Dorchester for afternoon tea. I was actually taken there for tea the year before by the wife so I knew she would like it and - despite the fact that it is The Dorchester - tea for two is a relatively inexpensive afternoon out. So as not to exactly replicate her birthday treat for me I decided to explore another option The Dorchester offers for their afternoon tea: in the spa room instead of the lobby.

When written down, neither place reads like much but since we knew the lobby (or 'Promenade') well enough from the year before, I thought it might be a bit of fun to eat downstairs. Spatisserie is more or less exactly as it sounds: a tea room within the downstairs spa at the grand hotel. The first thing you notice is that this place is really set up for people who have actually come from the spa itself. If you're not padding about in slipper-sandals and a dressing gown it feels slightly strange.

The food is much the same as we'd enjoyed upstairs the year before, minus the Wimbledon motif. The sandwiches were almost as delicious as last time but the big let-down was they were not as fresh (left). I'm not suggesting they were stale by any means, but they were not as springy-soft as they should have been. It felt distinctly as if they had been left out upstairs before coming to the downstairs spa. As with our previous visit, the chicken on basil bread was excellent but the whole sandwich episode fell a little flat given how un-fresh they felt.

The dessert section of the menu held a little more intrigue because it was different from last time. An appealing array of chocolate tart, almond cake with apricot, strawberry & peach macaroon and mango, coconut & lime cake was presented to us (right). They were all delicately and expertly constructed enjoyable morsels: exactly as afternoon tea should be. The chocolate tart was a rich and satisfying wave of flavour and the macaroon was excellent.

Scones were as incredible as we had expected. These were small, soft, warm and a stunning, comforting treat. The plain and fruit scones were equally delicious and the clotted cream and jam merely added a glorious rich finish. There is something about miniature scones which annoys me a bit, but when they taste this good it doesn't matter so much.

It was a fun experience having afternoon tea in the downstairs spa but the wife and I both agreed that it was better the first time. When you're in one of London's most famous hotels, there's something to be said for the grandour and splendour of the promenade and the service upstairs was better in general. The fact that the sandwiches were unequivocally better upstairs was the main factor in deciding, but I will say this: had I just come out of a spa afternoon at The Dorchester, I would be proclaiming this as the best afternoon tea ever. If you're going to eat here, make sure you've had a steam and a massage first.

Afternoon Tea at The Dorchester

A Birthday Weekend to Remember: 15th-18th September, 2011

You only turn 30 once. The wife's turn was last September, so I took it upon myself to organise a weekend's worth of celebrating, almost all of which was made up of surprises. And of course, almost all of it involved food. The event had a lot to live up to, since her birthday last year included the best meal I'd ever eaten. Whatever the outcome, I did my best.

Thursday September 15th: Marcus Wareing at The Berkeley, Knightsbridge

The wife (or 'the other half' as she was known then) loves to eat at swanky restaurants. You may snort with derision and accuse me of being exactly the same - I'm not denying that I love a high-end slap-up meal - but she really does love to see the stars on the menu and live the high life. As such, it was only fitting that the one remaining two-starred restaurant in London we had not sampled should kick off the long weekend of birthday celebrations.

Marcus Wareing is a revered and respected fixture of London's restaurant scene. He has come a long way from being Gordon Ramsay's patronised sidekick running Pétrus at The Berkeley, and many in the know feel his third Michelin Star was long overdue some time ago. Indeed, the cringe-worthy, sometimes amusing and fleetingly interesting Ramsay documentary Beyond Boiling Point, filmed at the turn of the century, shows Wareing to be a young, ambitious chef. On the occasion of receiving his first star, he instantly professed his desire to go on and win his second. You could tell the boy meant business.

The sad truth of most cookery partnerships in the modern age is that they do not last. Mainly because most modern chefs are highly competitive men. They cannot stand anyone being better than them. As happens with most chef pairs, the two eventually fell out and went their separate ways, leaving a trail of lawyers binding them for longer than they would have liked. Ramsay kept the name and re-opened one street over, Wareing kept the premises and the concession at the prestigious hotel.

The fuel to Wareing's flame for so many years was wanting to be better than his business partner and mentor. Which is, I suppose, what any young student wants. But when the master is one of the most renowned ball-breakers in the business, it isn't so simple. The two do not speak or deal with each other any more. Their time is done, and whilst the teacher maintains a high-level restaurant empire with panache, the student is still plugging away in search of that third Michelin Star. He's also opened The Gilbert Scott, taking the first steps toward forming his own empire.

Marcus Wareing at The Berkeley is one of those places at which you can make your reservation and instantly expect to have an outstanding evening. There should be no extra mile the staff won't go to, no small detail overlooked, no imperfection of taste. Enough has been written expounding the Lancastrian's pedigree and virtue for the last ten years, so there should be plenty of 2 to 3 star sheen on show to rave about.

There are a few issues I have with Wareing at The Berkeley (from now on I'll just call it Wareing), starting with the lighting. It's too large and capacious a room to be so dimly lit. I recall struggling to see parts of the room and having a right old challenge trying to take any photos. The atmosphere is a bit dead too. You don't want a bunch of hoorays leaping off the walls when you're somewhere high-end, but a little buzz would be nice. There is a sort of revered hush which could be construed as misery.

What shouldn't be making people feel miserable is the food. And if the canapés and amouse-bouche are anything to go on, that's a certainty. The first was a delightful medley of heritage tomato and Berkswell cheese atop delicate parmesan shortbread. A cheese overload you might think, but wonderfully offset by the soft, counteractive tomato. Alongside were some meaty rich slivers of pork terrine with plum chutney. Nothing to sniff at, these disappeared in seconds.

Bread and butter were also terrific. It might seem silly focusing on such a minor aspect of the day, but when brown walnut butter is put in front of me and I actually enjoy it I realise I'm actually in quite a special restaurant. Instead of the sickly taste I characterise with most any nut, this was a sweet, mild sensation, a true blip of genius spread on bread. The bread itself was a dazzling array of honey & potato, sourdough, rough French country and rye. All of it enjoyable.

One more before starters, they gave us BLTs: lettuce soup, bacon foam and crushed tomato crisp in a tall shot glass. Ridiculous but fun, the foam in particular was a lovely touch. So far I was entertained and impressed. The dim lighting and subdued atmosphere certainly belied the impressive and creative elements we were sampling.

Starters came and this is where a few of the problems with the place became clear. The menu reads like any classically contemporary restaurant's seems to: a basic list of the main ingredients for each dish. This ploy can go either way. The chef can be applauded for letting the ingredients sell themselves; a clear act of understated knowingness on his part. Equally, it could be labelled pretentious; keeping the customer in the dark about what's coming.

Fortunately we know our stuff and a little mystery was never going to hoodwink us into making an ill-informed decision. Our choices were made with our absolute enjoyment in mind, since this was a very special occasion, after all. She chose lobster. Lobster with egg, cabbage, nori (Japanese seaweed) and vinegar. Whichever way you look at it, ingredients like that are going to be hard to mess up. Despite the dish being served in a slightly haphazard, piled-up manner, the combination was indeed excellent. The cabbage and punchy, salty nori perfectly counterbalanced the sweet lobster meat, which was in turn brought back to earth with the silky egg yolk. I couldn't fault the idea or the execution.

Mine was foie gras. With milk, sweet cicely (a green, leafy herb), raspberry and walnut bread. Usually I'd baulk at the idea of walnut bread but since they'd already won me over with walnut butter, I took the plunge. Now, looking at the parts of this I'd say the dish was made for me and I'd love it without question. Sadly, the event did not live up to its billing, and here is the downfall of just listing ingredients. If you see all components of this dish on a menu, you're expecting a delightful bouquet of tastes and smells, stunning varieties of texture and a show on a plate. It turned out to be a misappropriation of almost every part of the dish. The foie gras was mousse, the milk was foam. The raspberries were halved and the cicely sat on top. The bread was wafer thin. It did not work. The tastes were decent but no more, the textures a literal flop, with no bite or substance in anything.

Main courses ought to have lifted things, being venison and beef as they were. The venison in particular looked eye-catching. Served with hispi (summer cabbage), baby turnip, black fig, chocolate and sherry vinegar, this was surely going to knock our socks off (left). Well, yes and no. Yes because the venison was the most perfectly-cooked piece of deer I could remember eating. It was utterly sublime: soft, juicy, pink-red and rich. No because the sides - the chocolate in particular - just couldn't sit with it. Meat this good wants impeccable support, and even though this stuff was good, it wasn't quite there. The chocolate was not bitter enough, which made the whole thing slightly too sweet. The rest was fresh, acceptably solid and pretty, but just not as glorious as the meat. It was good in places, misjudged in others and agonisingly, marginally short of the mark overall.

The other main course was so to the wife's taste I needn't have even bothered asking her what she wanted: Galloway beef, truffle, leeks, radish, parmesan. You're talking classics now (plus a £10 supplement). This is absolutely what we want to see on our top-end menus: amazing combinations with the promise of outstanding delivery. The beef was almost as good as the venison had been. I've eaten better beef, but not many times. This was another pretty special dish, with the truffle grated on at the table. The combination was right on. The truffle added some earthiness to the soft meat and sharper leeks and seasoning, leaving the whole thing a rather delightful plate. It did, however, look like a five-year-old had assembled it. A mess of sauces, dressings and scraps, it was bloody lucky it tasted as good as it did, because it was an eyesore when put before us.

Pre-dessert was just a hoot: Wareing's take on a pina colada. A small plate of coconut mousse, coconut ash, pineapple cream and rum jelly. Given that I don't drink and I detest coconut, it wasn't really for me. More to the point, I don't think ash has a place on any dessert. It was not a fantastic accompaniment, the charred black flakes adding only colour variations to the plate.

When we came to choose desserts, the one that jumped right out at us was the chocolate moelleux, or melting cake, with orange. It turned out to be a tasting of orange in the form of cream, crisp and jellies (right). Again, it looked like a right state but tasted pretty good. I had read previously that one incarnation of this dish (with salted caramel) was London's most popular dessert. This certainly can't be the case any more, because despite a rather succulent and satisfying moelleux, the orange kicked most of the taste to the kerb. Not bad by any means, but not three-, or truly even two-star standard.

My choice was a little riskier in the form of iced lime mousse, served with soft meringue and sweet & sour pineapple. It was far more original and well-balanced than the chocolate but it too suffered from a slight mismatch on the plate. The meringue certainly added a visual edge but the taste contribution was negligible. The mousse itself was lovely and surprisingly not too cold, but the pineapple didn't sit right with it. Liquorice on the side was more of an inconvenience than anything else. It was a pretty good symbol of entire the meal in all honesty: almost there, but something's been lost in the mix.

We wrapped things up with some in-house chocolates, which the wife in particular enjoyed. The banoffee were the highlight. As we finished our chocolates and I paid the bill, I looked at what I'd paid (not the moon but certainly a fair whack) and what we'd eaten and asked myself what I really had thought of the night. It was lovely, there's no doubt about it. Great service and a special occasion lent a lovely sentimentality to the night. The wife (or, as she was about to be known, the fiancée) had a great time and that clearly was the most important thing.

But what of Wareing? How does it stack up? For starters, I must say I'm siding with Ramsay when it comes to comparisons. Restaurant Gordon Ramsay was in almost every way a better meal. The problem with Wareing is that it has become a feverish mission of attaining a third Michelin Star which, frankly, I cannot see coming. The menu has been fiddled with to the point of over-complication, which left me mildly frustrated. I'm not for one second saying the food was bad, but it wasn't as good as I'd hoped for.

There are good things to be said for Marcus Wareing at The Berkeley, but there are a handful of diminishing features which made this less of the perfect birthday meal (which, kudos to Ramsay Holdings, was one year earlier) than I had anticipated. My advice to Marcus would be to simplify things. Make it great in a classic way before you go for broke on mad combinations and hints of pretence. Just turn up the lights and re-think the ingredients.

Marcus Wareing at The Berkeley

Friday September 16th: Old Tree Bakery, Golders Green

It appears the wife's annual birthday tradition has become a trip to buy lots of meat at Smithfield Market. It's a fantastic experience, a great trip and one that I can't recommend highly enough if you've got a 4am slot spare in your diary. We traipsed up and down the magnificent market hall with a little wheelie trolley and packed it with meat, eggs and other delights.

We then took in a little breakfast down by the Thames as the sun came up and I proposed to her. It was a lovely moment, characterising us perfectly: a proposal next to a big stack o' meat. Well, we were happy anyway.

Back home, we packed away the meat and I put her to bed for the day whilst I prepared the flat for her surprise party that evening. Baking a cake, sweeping and mopping floors, general tidying; I was on quite impressive form for a man who had not had a great deal of sleep.

Some time later, with me flagging considerably, I surprised her with a trip to Old Tree Bakery, a venue in north London which I had on good authority to be the best Taiwanese food one can find in these parts. It is a small café which focuses on traditional elements of Taiwan's cuisine.

We sampled a small variety of dishes as a late lunch which made for some interesting eating. Pork belly stewed with egg was a mixture of the sublime and the ridiculous (left). Slow-cooked pork belly is amazing, and something I've found to be entirely Asian. Nobody here seems to have cottoned on to how fantastically silky this stuff can be when stewed. However, a hard-boiled egg (still in the shell) cooked in the sauce is not quite as good. Discoloured by the brown soy sauce, it was overly salty-sour.

We ate some beef ribs which were another picture of smooth meatiness. The meat was spare, as it tends to be on ribs, but worth the effort. Chunkier than your average spare pork rib, these had a nice gelatinous quality to them, making the intense flavour stand out even more. Good stuff indeed.

One of the dishes that did not sit at all well with me was the chicken, served with black sesame oil, chilli, garlic and mint. Just reading that back sounds like a bad idea and it certainly was. The over-strong flavours of the seasoning completely overwhelmed the chicken... And mint?! Not something I expect to see paired with chicken on any continent.

Taiwanese sausage was a pleasant surprise (right). Somewhere between chorizo and a good old-fashioned English banger, these sliced morsels were lovely. We even took some home and re-fried them with garlic which was even more impressive. I did not know any Asian country could do sausages particularly well before this, but I'm pretty convinced by Taiwan now.

The dessert snacks we tried - an egg tart and a custard cream bun - were not overly impressive. Neither had the sort of milky creaminess that one expects from classic cute Asian puddings. The bun in particular was a little dry and the egg tart no more than run of the mill.

I'm happy we went to Old Tree Bakery, particularly on such a significant day. The wife's verdict was that it was "normal" for Taiwan. And that, I think, is the point. It isn't all that amazing or outstanding if you're from Taiwan. But if you're not, it is a bit different from a lot of other stuff you can get in London. And even if you're from Taiwan, "normal" may be the best you're likely to get in London.

After a hearty tea, we went back to the flat where a cavalcade of friends were waiting to surprise the wife. It was a lovely evening and a wonderful end to a special day. The chocolate cake went down a storm and I was finally able to sleep at the end of a very, very long day.

Old Tree Bakery

Saturday September 17th: Park Room & Library, Mayfair

Yet more surprises were in store on the Saturday, which was the wife's actual birthday. In planning the weekend, I was trying to fit in as many distinct food experiences as I could to avoid anything getting boring. Afternoon tea is always a classic, the wife having chosen such herself for my birthday back in July.

It was going to be hard (and ultimately pretty futile) for me to try and top The Dorchester, but I figured the place that had won the Tea Guild's Award of Excellence for 2011 might help. The Park Room & Library is the rather confusingly-named tea and breakfast room for the Grosvenor House Hotel on Park Lane. It is, as all Park Lane salons are, equipped with a lovely view of the lane and Hyde Park. It is spacious, very green and plush. It is, every inch, the sort of place one might expect to have a corking afternoon tea.

It was, as I hinted above, not quite The Dorchester. But it was pretty good all the same. The spacious and relaxed environment made for a wonderfully serene meal. Each course came with a minimum of fuss and we both kicked back and enjoyed ourselves.

Sandwiches were a rather disappointing affair (left). Nothing really standing out from the standards which were trotted out. Cold beef, smoked salmon, egg, chicken... It was all acceptable fare but not much better. We also sadly observed that the bread was a little on the dry side. Not stale but still not too pleasant.

We eschewed any more in the hope that pastries and scones would be better. Fortunately the occasion picked up smartly as the stack of sweets was brought to the table. The cakes were generally rather fabulous, with a rose theme running through the menu for the day (right). The rose éclair, panna cotta, sponge cake and macaroon were all lovely. A little on the rich and slightly flowery side (naturally), they all worked fairly well.

We opted for some seconds here, which led to the non-rose desserts being presented to us. The normal chocolate éclair was as good without the flowers, as was the panna cotta. The Victoria sponge we were given was also a winner, neatly served as a small circular cake on the side of the plate. The strawberry tart that was present on both occasions was enjoyable enough, while the slice of chocolate cake wasn't.

Scones were nice enough, but merely felt functional in the circumstances. It was all a bit clinical and underwhelming at the end of it. The main draw of this place is the room itself which, despite being a bit office conference-y (it is a Marriott hotel after all), is absolutely pleasant. The food and to a lesser extent the service needs a tune-up though. I'm not sure how this place won the prestigious tea award on the showing of this Saturday afternoon.

It's a decent place with a semi-decent tea, which is not altogether worth the £35 per person they are charging. I wouldn't say don't go there, but I would recommend getting a reservation in early and going down the road to The Dorchester, where they're carrying off this sort of thing with way more style.

Park Room & Library

Sunday September 18th: St John Hotel, Chinatown

One last surprise followed our late afternoon tea. We took a walk through the Soho streets, as ever marvelling at how exuberant and absorbing the backstreets of W1 can be. Our journey took us to the final destination of the weekend: the St John Hotel, somewhere we'd been talking about going for months. I figured this was just about the only occasion we'd be able to justify the £250 for a one night stay in some time.

I should add that £30 of the fee contributed to our having breakfast in the restaurant the next morning, which is no bad thing. I'd been perusing the restaurant menus for some time leading up to this visit and I was always struck by two things: the menus looked lovely but they were damned pricey.

The hotel itself is a quirky work of art, much like the entire St John franchise. The whitewashed, wood-panelled rooms have a delightfully nautical feel to them. The green rubber flooring, which I initially raised an eyebrow at, actually works wonderfully well, giving a comforting and satisfying depth to each room. I'm not in the business of recommending hotels, but if you have the spare change, a night here is a real treat.

Breakfast on the Sunday morning had been decided by observing the menu on Saturday night. The fact that they had a pigs' cheek omelette and girolle mushrooms on toast was good enough for us. Sadly, when we got to our table we found out that both had been removed from the menu. The wife being as determined and inquisitive as she always is managed to wrangle them both for us. I was very pleased.

We started with yoghurt & fruit and a fruit bun. The yoghurt was sour, with even sourer cherries within. It was a serious waste of £5 and no mistake. The fruit bun was better, a sugar-glazed, Danish-type affair. It made you feel both comfortable and guilty, which I suppose is what any decent breakfast pastry should do.

Main courses were something else entirely. In my sleepy stupor, I ordered a boiled egg on the side of my girolles on toast, when I meant to ask for a poached egg (left). I would hazard a guess that the poached would've been better, but the boiled wasn't too shabby. It was a classic St John dish in the event: exceptionally simple yet well put together. The mushrooms were cooked to a slight bite of perfection, served on thick grilled toast. The seasoning was spot on and both of us loved it.

Even better was a pigs' cheek, Berkswell cheese and pea omelette (right). The salty, succulent meat was flaked over the top, with the peas inside the eggs and the cheese graciously sprinkled over the lot. It was a perfectly conceived breakfast dish that was enjoyed wholeheartedly. Paying a little extra (it cost £8.50) for this was in no way an extravagance. Delicious stuff.

Breakfast at the St John Hotel is a treat which I believe will be better within the next year when the place really finds its feet. (The maître d' admitted as much to me when we were ordering.) It's rather a special feeling eating a swanky breakfast in your pyjamas whilst pedestrians wander to and from Leicester Square a few yards away.

As much as I enjoyed the food here, it is a touch overpriced and I would say the more worthwhile treat is a night's stay in the hotel. Amazing rooms, atmosphere and mini-bars, this is certainly the real deal when it comes to smart London hotels. Just don't bother with the bar; we wandered in there on the Saturday night and it's more like a youth hostel than a west end hotel bar.

St John Hotel

You only turn 30 once. I think a breakfast, a lunch, a tea-time and a dinner is a good way to celebrate. Plus a surprise party and an engagement. It was a great weekend and, as usual, most of it was to do with food. I have promised the wife, in the interests of my bank balance, that she can have a birthday like this once every ten years. It might be a tough act to follow but I have the best part of a decade to think up the next one.