Showing posts with label French food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label French food. Show all posts

Thursday, 27 August 2015

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.

Monday, 13 April 2015

Another Wedding Celebration - The Zetter Hotel: Clerkenwell, Saturday May 25th, 2013

Nearly two years ago, the wife and I celebrated our marriage. Again. My friends have been having a whale of a time ribbing me about the fact that we had "three weddings" ever since. Whilst this isn't strictly speaking true, it is a strange thing that we did so much to celebrate an event that people usually only celebrate once. To put it in context, we'd had a tiny ceremony in January 2012, topped off with a meal at Le Vacherin, a place about which I have vowed not to write more about. This meant we could only celebrate with a small selection of family and very close friends.

Later that year we'd gone to Taiwan to allow us to celebrate and officially declare our union with the wife's family and friends. A "small" 350 guest affair (not my idea of a small do, mind) was a quite sensational banquet, with lifelong memories for all guests who made it out to the event, particularly from the UK. However, this meant that there were still several very close friends with whom we had not yet had the chance to celebrate, and we still hadn't 'put on' a do of our own. One year on from the wedding in Taiwan, we booked out the restaurant at The Zetter Hotel and invited all to enjoy food, drinks and dancing on us.

We'd been to The Zetter not long after our actual wedding, where we had been wowed by some classic French cooking with modern twists at Bistrot Bruno Loubet. Fine, filling, boisterous food, it was a meal to remember. So much so that, within a few months, I was suggesting we organise our final matrimonial hurrah there. It turned out to be the right choice. The staff were helpful, efficient and sensitive to what we wanted. We did some menu tastings and enjoyed a great day complete with funny stories, mild drama, great pictures, excellent weather and (most importantly) great food.

Several people remarked that the meal was a highlight, with many saying they expected the food to be great, such is the wife and I's proclivity toward eating out. The menu was a hearty three-courser made up of Guinea fowl boudin blanc, beef daube bourguignon with mashed potato, and a creme brulee with passion fruit and pineapple salad. Of course, in light of the day, there was no time to take photos and document this with the sort of precision I try to, but the meal was great. Afterwards, they provided a delicious cake with different layers, snacks later on in the evening, plus additional cakes and refreshments. It was a brilliant, unforgettable day.

Now, there is a point to me writing this, aside from the self-congratulatory validation of celebrating a wedding three times over. Namely, The Zetter is a great place to eat, stay and enjoy oneself. Whist The Grain Store might be the place taking up most of Bruno Loubet's time these days, the original in the Clerkenwell hotel is still a fun and refreshing place to be. Whether for a weekend lunch, a formal meal or some casual drinks and snacks, it's seriously worth a visit. It remains a quirky, original and pleasant restaurant to dine in, one of the best hotel eateries I have sampled.

Weddings can be painfully formal, formulaic things. I'm happy to say that, when the wife and I did it, we did it how we wanted to. Three times over might be excessive, but we know how to eat. And The Zetter knows how to put on a party. From here on, I'll only write about anniversary meals, no more weddings.

Bistrot Bruno Loubet at The Zetter Hotel

Monday, 23 December 2013

Racine - Knightsbridge, Friday November 9th, 2012

History repeats itself rather freely when wandering through the finery of western Westminster. Apparently. When once the "other half" and I traipsed in to Racine some years ago, a similar aimless evening walk brought us to their door once more in November last year. I was somewhat hesitant to indulge, given various savings we were trying to make, but the wife was insistent that Friday night deserved a dinner and a dinner we should have.

Racine is instantly a fairly likeable restaurant. It's unpretentious, rustic-looking and unassuming in a way which contrasts much of its local competition. There is enough Gallic background and feeling in its dark-walled room and home-styled menu to remind people that French dining can be far from pretentious and intimidating.

They did, however, have something to prove to me. On our first visit, I had not been overly impressed and I was hoping that, with a little more patience and time at our disposal, we would find out why this place had stood such a test of time in a competitive area of London.

Since time was not a worry, we both ordered starters and main courses. Mine was a no-brainer: a salad of poached egg, lamb's lettuce and salsify with truffle dressing (left). This is the sort of starter that leaves nowhere to hide and in the event it was not a problem. There was nothing too bitter, no exaggerated sweetness, nothing over-seasoned or lacking in flavour. Just rich, green leaves supporting the smooth and savoury salsify and a delightful earthy, spicy hint of truffle running through it. The egg was, needless to say, poached perfectly.

In a similar semi-extravagant vein, the wife went for mussels to start (right). Whilst mussels in a French restaurant should usually be a fairly rustic and simple dish of braising liquor along with wine, bread and a little cream, this was a different proposition. The mussels were served astride a mousse of garlic and saffron, adding sweetness to the naturally salty seafood. The texture of the mousse was an enjoyable play on more traditional accompaniments which worked, on the whole. The issue I took with this was the richness and size made it slightly over-rich in general.

Main courses were quite exciting since the whole card read like a list of stuff one just wants to eat and keep eating. The wife went for the enticing proposition of lamb confit with mogette beans, parsnip purée and rosemary flavours (left). If you get one thing from the picture, it's that it does look delightfully rustic. And it certainly was. Hearty in the extreme, the lamb was packed with flavour...but just, so much flavour. Herein lies the issue with slamming a plate full of bold tastes: things start to get lost. The garlic garnish shone through, eventually making the whole thing a breath-paralysing proposition when it did, where the white beans were lost amongst the strong sauce and purée.

My main course was a heavier idea than my starter had been; though braised veal, aligot (mash 'n cheese) and trompette mushrooms is heavier than just about anything else on most menus (right). This presented a similar issue to the wife's main course: a dense and ultimately unforgiving plate of food. That's not to say it was bad - the first two mouthfuls were amazing bundles of crispy-soft veal and buttery mushrooms, backed with smooth and rich potato. However, by the third I was starting to flag and the saltiness and richness of the dish was getting the better of me. For all the good things, I couldn't finish it and that, sadly, means they just didn't get it right.

We weren't totally sold on desserts since main courses had knocked us so squarely for six, but we remembered how lovely a chocolate terrine had been on our first visit, so we indulged our sweet teeth. The wife went for a classic favourite of hers; creme caramel (left). Personally I don't go for this as a dessert since the sharp saltiness of the caramel does not agree with me, and overly jellified desserts aren't my thing anyway. She knows her stuff when it comes to these kinds of things though, and the verdict was not good.

I was tempted by a rice pudding, a dessert which I had gotten into in a big way in 2012 (right). This came with a sweet caramel sauce which had been stirred through the pudding. All in all, it represented the sort of comfortable simplicity the main courses had been striving for but never reached. It was well-portioned, not overly sweet, enjoyably creamy and outright pleasant.

Looking back over the meal, I was half-tempted to call it a success since I had very much enjoyed my starter and dessert. However, the big problem for me (or any diner) is when two out of two main courses miss their mark. As much as I love puddings, you just can't get away with falling short on what is essentially the main event for both diners.

As I began by saying, there is a certain something about Racine which makes it a place I just can't write off, but I am running out of patience. I know I'll be back here one day but I hope that when I am, the menu (or at least my choices) will exhibit a little control, balance and refinement to counter what really does make Racine enjoyable: their welcoming and generous nature. It's not a bad restaurant, just a slightly infuriating one.

Racine

Wednesday, 31 July 2013

Third Time Lucky? Gauthier Soho - Soho, Tuesday August 21st, 2012

I'm a firm believer that eating is just about the most fun anyone can have. Good food is peerless in terms of the fine, finer and finest things in life. Contrary to what some people assume about me, I am not one for showiness or pretence when it comes to great food. I don't need to see words like 'jus' or 'reduction' on a menu: 'sauce' is just fine. But here's the kicker: it has to be good.

It sounds simple, but people seem to forget the basic reason we eat in restaurants: we want to be impressed. We want to enjoy ourselves. We want the simplest thing in life yet it can be the most difficult to find anywhere. Of course, it's easy to criticise (how else would I get by?); not many people can work in a professional kitchen turning out credible results night after night. I am no slouch behind a stove but as soon as I'm cooking for more than four, I tend to lose the plot. You might ask why that gives me the right to criticise anyone's cooking - fair point - but it's why I'm writing a blog and not trying to run AA Gill out of a job.

Nevertheless, I know food. I know what is good and I know what is not. Why? Because I trust my opinion. And I can express it in a written form that makes sense. As above: simple but difficult to execute well. (Again; free blog amongst thousands, not a broadsheet newspaper.) Anyway, where was I..? Gauthier Soho, right. Once a winner, then a loser, then a Michelin Star loser (and, yes, this is that 'review to come'...) making this the third trip in three years to the very French, very townhouse-y and very varied Soho hotspot in three years. Perhaps that's my point: I know what I'm talking about when it comes to this place.

With another year came another nicely-worded e-mail to their clientèle explaining that another tasting menu was half off to commemorate another year of being open, so we thought another trip - for better or worse - was worth a try. Now, it's important to note that, at the time of visiting, this place still had its Michelin Star. The wife and I were adamant this honour should not have been upheld following our dreadful visit the year before. However, said visit meant that anything passable was going to be an improvement from last time.

The tasting menu had been somewhat pared back to its original glory which filled us with confidence. What was even nicer was that we were seated in the same table we'd had on our first visit. Bread, canapés and pleasantries were taken care of, readying us for a thrash at the starter, a very close take on the dish we'd started with in 2010: foie gras (left). Pan-fried and served with roast apricot for texture, ginger marmalade for flavour and port reduction for appearance, it was not bad at all. The only change I would have made is to put something to cut through the liver a little more. It was good but all a little too similar.

Scallops were up next and I was so happy they'd learnt from the year before: no more one third of a scallop per portion: this was serious food served properly (right). Two bulging scallops served with girolle mushrooms, parsley sauce and something called 'coral dressing'. I'm not entirely sure what this is but whatever it is lent a great balance to the dish. The seafood was properly cooked, meaning the rest was as it should be: supporting the main event excellently.

Risotto was still there and this is one of those dishes that the wife and I coo over at every recollected memory. This time, though, truffles had gone. I would guess it had something to do with the cost but perhaps a shake-up was on the cards anyway. Summer cep mushroom risotto is no mean substitute and they had kept the brown butter and parmesan cheese too (left). Still texturally perfect, the mushroom flavour was intense within a superbly al dente bowl of rice. Honest, real dishes like this should be on Michelin-Starred menus throughout the country.

Next was sea bass with baby squid (right). This was verging dangerously close to the overcooked nightmare of the year before but it turned out to be far better executed, if not perfect. The fish itself was flavoursome if a touch on the dry side, but the courgette tempura added a delicious crisp variation. The black squid ink fish sauce added colour and visual appeal but did not really add much to the dish as a whole.

The meat course harked back to the original menu of the place and I was looking forward to this one (left). Piglet belly with glaze heritage carrot, leeks and a cherry jam was a perfect balance of flavours and textures. The pork floss sprinkled over the dish was a slightly Asian-style addition but it did help the taste of the meat. Unfortuately the whole thing was a little insubstantial. It didn't hit the highs of the original visit and it was achingly close to great, but just short.

The cheese interlude was a very nice aged comté with assorted chutneys; again a step back from the assortment of cheese we'd once enjoyed but nice enough. The fruit dessert followed, with raspberries, strawberries, sorbet and blancmange combining to make a milky, sweet, acidic and fruity bowl of strong, refreshing flavours (right). Sadly, the last dish was the Louis XV which is always wasted on me because of the hazlenut base and the rich praline (left). The appearance and execution were as good as ever but those nuts!

So, with my opening in mind, plus the third visit in three years, what does it all mean? Well, sufficed to say it was a world away from the terrible service and food we'd had the year before, but neither was it as good as the excellent first time we went here. Maybe we have finally reached the true Gauthier level after some two years of fine tuning.

I suppose the remaining question is: should it have kept its Michelin Star? My answer is no, so the guide guys have got it right for now. I don't think places this inconsistent deserve that sort of recognition. Could they win it back? Absolutely, if they iron out the over-booked evenings and settle on a menu that will bring everyone back time and again. This is not a bad restaurant, but it's far from at the top of the game. I'm happy to pay to eat there, but I still haven't paid full price because I don't think it would be worth the money.

Contradictions abound, but at the end of the day, they are on an upward curve. If I end up eating there again in the near future, I've no idea what the overall outcome will be. I hope they hit the heights they previously enjoyed, but I hope if they do, it's because of excellent food, service and atmosphere, not because they're a fancy French restaurant in a chic Soho townhouse.

Gauthier Soho