No need to stay thirsty at Soif

Soif

London is a conundrum.  It is large - approximately 610 sq miles - and, like the Rorschach blot it resembles, is open to constant interpretation and flux.  For those of the 7.5 million souls that live here, we know it as a series of connected villages - a tired but accurate description - which helps to knock its vastness to a more human scale.  For the thousands that visit every year, it is defined by its historical palaces and monuments, shopping and theatres.  It is, as has been said, all things to all people.

In August 2011, it exploded with rioting and looting, now just a year later, people are marvelling at how friendly London is, welcoming the world to the 2012 Olympics. 

A year ago, we definitely would not have been sitting here at Soif, in the heart of Clapham, a few stones throws from so much violence and civil disturbance that the Met were forced to use military vehicles to try and disperse the gangs. 

Perhaps one of London's best qualities is how it reacts under adversity - remember the Blitz?  Theatres that never closed? - it never buckles, just dusts itself off and gets on with life.  The day after the riots in Clapham, hundreds of people showed up with brooms, buckets and dustpans ready to keep calm, clean up and carry on.

This is, for the most part, a comfortable suburb, with a vibrant cafe society at its heart - the streets of Lavendar Hill, Northcote Road and Battersea Rise are lined with bars and restaurants.  In summer months the pavement tables swell with the overflow, a buzzy, vibrant scene reminiscent of Paris' left bank.

Soif is an outpost of Terroirs, a food-driven wine bar smack in the heart of London, around the corner from Trafalgar Square.  Like its older sibling, it adheres to the natural, sustainable, artisanal, local ethos.  The wines served are classed as 'natural', or non-interventionist - my guess is that this moniker allows a little more wriggle room than Organic and Bio-dynamic.  The food is bistro moderne, and many dishes can be shared .  Indeed the two appetizers we ordered were large enough for two - we'll know better next time.

A glass of Provence Rose (naturally) kicks things off and goes nicely with both the brandade (salt cod) and the jambon persille  (ham) that we shared.  The brandade was moist and creamy, and the ham nice and chunky.

Next came a 500ml 'pot' of Cotes du Rhone to partner braised leg of lamb on coco beans, and roasted pork loin on braised fennel.  The lamb was supple, lean and tender.  The pork just a tad on the dry side, though the crackling was sublimely crunchy.  Anchovy sauce was served on the side - a little went a long way - in what seemed to be an homage to the great Italian vitello tonnato pairing of veal and tuna sauce.  The tribute didn't quite succeed. 

A clafoutis of greengages cooked to order arrived steaming hot.  Cooled with a dose of cream, it quickly disappeared. The batter was light and almost fluffy - not always the case with this dessert. These lovely summer fruit make a fleeting appearance so an opportunity to enjoy them should not be missed.

We'd arrived without a reservation ahead of the crowds at 7pm, and by the time we left even though the place was buzzing they were still taking walk-ins. 

The night is balmy and - thankfully - peaceful.  The only screams are coming from fans cheering on their Olympic athletes.

Soif
27 Battersea Rise
SW11 1HG

London Restaurant Festival 2011: Gauthier Soho

Chef Alexis Gauthier has a solid pedigree having worked with Alain Ducasse and been chef-patron of the Pimlico restaurant Roussillon which gained a Michelin star in 2000.  Wanting a more cosmopolitan audience, Gauthier, together with his sommelier Roberto Della Pietra, took over the Lindsay House premises and opened his eponymous restaurant just 18 months ago and although he is still an investor in Roussillon, his heart is now in the heart of Soho.

So when choosing from the list of 2011 LRF restaurants, his new-ish restaurant Gauthier Soho was an easy draft pick.  Add the fact that in the past year it too has been awarded one Michelin star, along with news that the Festival menu applies for dinner, not just lunch, and we're totally sold.
The 4-storey 18th century townhouse is bathed in atmosphere from the moment you are invited to ring the doorbell in order to enter.  Is this to keep out the riff-raff - we are in Soho after all - or to perpetuate the feeling of dining in a private home?  Whichever it is, it's a cute touch and apparently a legacy from its former occupant.  There are dining rooms on the ground and first floors and we are smoothly and efficiently divested of jackets and whisked upstairs within moments of our arrival - if this all sounds a bit rushed I don't mean it to,  but I would have enjoyed peeking into the ground floor area.  Perhaps we'll have to come again - a feeling that grows throughout our evening.

We're seated at a round table that offers us both a view of other diners as well as the comings and goings of waitstaff, sommeliers and maitre d's.  The walls are a soft white with very little decoration, and the lighting can only be described as intimate (apologies therefore for the murkiness of some of the photos as I don't use a flash in restaurants).  This is definitely a diner-a-deux restaurant.

The Festival menu on offer is £30 for three courses and although we're presented with the A La Carte menu as well, I try and stay focussed on the Prix Fixe where there are a generous 4 choices per course.  It's clear that some hard decisions are to be made as each offering starts us salivating.  Meanwhile there's a baker's half-dozen of in-house breads to choose from - how about walnut, or olive, or little French batons?  Two dishes of olive oil are presented - one fruity, one peppery - and we dip away ignoring, for the most part, the slab of butter sprinkled with sea salt.  That's better, it's easier to think now we've some ballast in the hold.  We opt for the two seafood dishes - roast Scottish scallops with girolles and herb and lobster open ravioli with a lobster and wild mushroom veloute  - and a half of Chablis will do nicely, thanks.

Before that a trio of amuses-bouche arrives: a shot glass of velvety mustard chantilly with slender toast soldiers, cured salmon with creme fraiche and a sprinkle of caviar, and crisped prosciutto with figs.  If this were a contest it would be tough to pick a winner, but maybe the chantilly gets it by a nose.

The lobster is lovingly embraced by silken pasta, with rich veloute in support dotted and dashed morse-like around the plate.  It is, simply, delicious.  The huge diver scallops sit in an Orla Kiely arrangement of the two sauces and are perfectly cooked, yielding to the gentlest pressure.  The girolles are almost superfluous but create a trinity of flavours with the garlic and parsley sauces. 

The Chablis has stood up well to both these dishes, and we savour the last sips while anticipating our entrees: soft and crunchy duck magret with sweet and sour autumn vegetables and duck jus, and sweetbreads and pancetta with caramelized carrots, sprouting broccoli, parmesan veloute and veal jus.  We've found a well-priced New Zealand Pinot Noir on the list - not an easy job - and it is duly presented: 2009 Lake Chalice Marlborough Pinot Noir.  Yup, that's the one.  Textbook summer fruit flavours, hints of violets and plums, supple tannins - should be perfect with our two choices.  And it is oh so quaffable.

The duck breast is pleasingly pink and tender, and rests on  very lightly pickled vegetables - a contrast of flavours and textures - and there's a gentle spice layered through the jus.  The 'crunchy' also comes from the crisply caramelized skin.  It's a medley of autumn notes and perfectly rendered.

The sweetbreads are as advertised and are prettily arranged  atop the carrots and broccoli.  They disappear fast, and with
gusto.  The Pinot, as predicted, pairs elegantly with both the
duck and the veal, and we have enough to enjoy with the cheese which one of us has ordered for the dessert course.

The staff have been as much a part of this meal as any of the dishes - professional, friendly and attentive.  They have charmingly allowed us to pace the dinner like a marathon rather than a sprint.  They also generously bring two cheese plates so we can each enjoy the reblochon, ossau iraty (a Basquaise sheep's cheese) and calvados washed-rind camembert without fighting over the spoils.  The last of the Pinot is teased out to match each morsel. 

A pre-dessert arrives: a toy-town portion of candied pineapple, lemon mousse and lemon sorbet.  A great palate-cleanser that sets us up for the piece de resistance, and Gauthier's signature dessert: golden Louis XV. This homage to the somewhat excessive French King (he is rumoured to have had some 90 illegitimate children) may also pay court to Gauthier's mentor Ducasse and his Louis XV restaurant in Monaco. It is in itself an embarras de riches -  a thin chewy hazelnut meringue base, then a layer of crunchy white chocolate/hazelnut Croquante, topped with chocolate mousse, enrobed in dark chocolate ganache and crowned with a flourish of gold leaf - pure theatre and a dazzling demonstration of a patissiere's skills. 

Before we leave we learn that the restaurant also has a retail wine license and is currently offering customers a free lunch for two when spending £100 or more - something to remember next time we need to replenish the cellar. 

There's a lot of talk about French food being on its last legs: one foot is already in the grave, suggests the recent news that there are now more Michelin 3-star restaurants in Japan than in France.  But on the evidence of this dining experience, rumours have been greatly exaggerated and there's little to beat classic French technique in the hands of a creative and accomplished chef.  This is food that seduces and teases like an amour fou.  No wonder I was helpless to resist spicing this blog with French phrases and bon-mots.  Oops, there I go again.

Go before Gauthier gets his second star and while it's still affordable - you won't be disappointed.

London Restaurant Festival 2011: Sat Bains

It's London Restaurant Festival time again, and a chance to road-test some places that might ordinarily be outside our budget.  

New on this year's menu is the chance to experience some outside-London chefs, and we jump at the news that Sat Bains is one of the first to be featured at Fortnum and Mason's Gallery Restaurant - Sat's eponymous Michelin-starred restaurant in Nottingham has been on our radar for some time, and despite having family in the area (and therefore a reason to visit) we haven't yet made the pilgrimage.  So, yes please, 2 for lunch. 

It's the first Monday in October but London is basking in an Indian summer and everyone seems to be blissed out by this second-chance summer warmth.  Secretaries and salesgirls soak up the rays in nearby St. James' Park as we waft in to the light-filled restaurant and are seated at a window table overlooking the bespoke shops of Jermyn Street.

Happiness

The staff here are more accustomed to serving quick business lunches, and the arrangement is of family-style seating although because of our later booking we luck out with a 6-top to ourselves.  A bit quirky - the wine list comes from F & M's own-label retail offerings and is priced at retail too - what is already a bargain is super-sized when we ask about their American Express deal which takes  an additional £10 off per bottle.  This includes a Rose Champagne made for F & M by Billecart-Salmon - how can we resist?  The listed half-bottle is a ghost, but the friendly maitre d' will pour from the 750ml and charge us accordingly (it later turns out that we get the tenner-off deal on that too).  I love great staff.

Our meal starts with pancetta-wrapped pork belly with pickled vegetables, 3 luscious little fingers of piggy heaven. Turns out these particular porkers live next to the Walkers Crisps factory and are fed the rejects (hopefully not smokey bacon flavour), which results in unique earthy notes.  They are set upon so quickly that by the time I'm reaching for the camera it's just a crime scene - nothing left but fingerprints.  We've saved some Bubbly to pair with this course and it cuts through the fattiness perfectly.

Salmon in Oyster Veloute

A palate-cleansing salmon with oyster and miso veloute follows - the oysters have gone, leaving the taste of the sea behind, a singing briny broth that lifts and cuts the richness of the (cured rather than cooked) salmon.  Like exploring a little rockpool, there are lots of treasures to be found in this dish - tiny clams, cucumber and some crunchy 'popped' wild rice among them.   

We've ordered a minor red Burgundy (Givry) to pair with the salmon and the next dish which is mutton with shallots.  Slow-cooked and meltingly tender, the mutton is paired with a shallot puree as well as a slow-roasted shallot.  The wine may have been slightly challenged by the salmon, but it's in its element here and its berry fruit and earthy structure makes a great partner to the meat.  

We've seen Chef working the room a bit while we've been dining, and are delighted when he sits down to join us.  Yes, Sat sat.  So now's our chance to ask about the food (this is
how I learn about the pigs and how to pop wild rice).  He is very unassuming and eager to talk about his restaurant as well as this 'pop-up' experience at Fortnum's and agrees with the suggestion that next time he might offer a wine-paired menu as an option. 

Dessert is a medley of late summer fruits, crushed meringue and a light granita - what is that herb?  Not strongly flavoured like mint or basil, but it is a herbal taste, maybe it's green tea?  Something to ask Chef about next time. 
It is simple and delicious. 

The new Michelin guide just awarded Sat his second star - so we feely doubly lucky to have had the chance to try his food without leaving London or our budget behind.  Though next time we're up in Robin Hood country I'm certain we'll go to the source.  

Helene Darroze: Le Salle a Manger, Paris

Helene Darroze: Le Salle a Manger

The Dining Room

Just before leaving home for St. Pancras and the Paris-bound Eurostar we read that Helene Darroze has been awarded a 2nd Michelin star - and though we later discover it's for her restaurant at The Connaught in London and not the one in Paris, we still bask in the warm glow of reflected glory - how clever of us to have made reservations at her particular restaurant on this particular day.  So smug are we, that we mis-remember the name of the street (that should be rue d'Assas, not rue d'Arras!) and only make it to the right address by the skin of our teeth, moments before the kitchen closes at 2.30pm.  Phew, that was a close one. 





Stripped of our heavy winter coats and overnight bags, we are whisked upstairs to the dining room - there's a more casual dining option on the ground floor - and, with a sense of urgency, the Maitre d' recites the fixed price menu choices.  The 4-course 54 euro menu keeps it simple with just 2 choices in each category, so it's easy to make a quick selection, and we both go for the same: scallop tartare followed by lamb.  The wine list next and something I've never seen before: wines are divided into 4 price groups - the cheapest band being 80 euros and I think 360 euros was the top bracket.  Eye-watering.  So much so that I have erased the finer details from memory already.  We ask for the by-the-glass list and choose glasses of a dry Vouvray and a Condrieu to start with. 



Scallop Tartare



Thin morsels of cured prosciutto-style ham are presented to graze on while we wait for the scallop dishes to arrive, which are so silky they melt in the mouth.  Another interesting quirk is the use of the spork, though these must be the fanciest versions I've ever seen, and for the most part they do the job, if a little awkward with the slender discs of scallop.  These are gently bathed in an oyster sauce and sprinkled with tiny caviar - such lovely fresh, briny flavors we have to remind ourselves that we are in Paris and not sitting by a rock pool. 

Farmhouse Egg

Next up is a surprise dish - I suppose because there was no choice to be made, the Maitre d' failed to mention it - a perfectly poached organic egg atop finely diced  potatoes and jerusalem artichokes, garnished with a crouton and flakes that taste of parmesan, but look like little coconut flakes.  It's simple and delicious and quite filling.  


Lamb Rack & Rolled Breast



We just have time to order a couple of glasses of red before the entrees arrive - a St. Joseph 'Offerus' and a Nuits St. Georges - to accompany a mini rack of lamb with a piece of rolled stuffed breast, button mushrooms and a puree of celeriac.  Thankfully the sporks have now been replaced with forks and knives - the knives are stamped with the Darroze name and we're told they are a specialty of the Landes area, home of Chef Darroze.  However the meat is so tender and perfectly cooked that even the sporks might have managed. 



Dessert



We've both chosen the chocolate dessert and are not disappointed - milky chocolate mousse sitting on top of a skinny chocolate financier with a slice of pink grapefruit and a dark chocolate sauce.  The pink grapefruit is gatecrashing the party and is totally out of place, but otherwise all the right buttons are pushed. 

By now the restaurant is emptying out - though one party is on to the Armagnac stage, at lunch! Only in France!  We order coffee and it arrives with a dish of chestnut and cassis macaroons.  Intense cassis masks the rich chestnut cream, our stomachs are groaning but we leave nothing but crumbs.

Service has been impeccable, if a little hasty, but then we were up against the clock from the moment we arrived so it's forgivable. 



Macaroons



This restaurant still has a way to go before it gets 2 stars, but it's making all the right noises. As we leave we run into a consultant who works with Chef Darroze in London as well as in Paris - there's clearly a connective tissue between the two venues which is borne out by the authenticity in the food.  We've eaten better, and for less, at one Star restaurants in London, but there was a certain frisson to being here on the day that the Michelin Guide (in its 100th year) recognised Ms Darroze in both cities.

















London Restaurant Festival: L'Autre Pied

 L'Autre Pied

It's Sunday night and we're on the last leg of our LRF marathon.  How appropriate that it's at l'Autre Pied (the other foot, literally), sister restaurant to 2 Michelin starred Pied a Terre.  Marylebone is one of central London's most central neighbourhoods, with a high street full of high end stores.  We even spot 'Ortigia' a retailer of our new favourite Sicilian soaps and make a mental note to come back here for some Christmas shopping. 

As we're a little early having scheduled this dinner to dovetail with one of our other passions - the London Film Festival - we hit the local bar for an aperitif.  Two martinis later we stroll to the restaurant with a nice little glow going to counter the cold evening air.

We're still almost the first diners despite the detour but we can live with that.  The restaurant is warm and inviting and we are promptly seated and start reviewing the Festival menu which is a bargain £20.75 for 4 courses.  We also decide, after conferrng with the Sommelier, to take the suggested wine addition which is £18 for three wines - we are promised that our preferences will be taken under advisement which is another reason for taking that option. 



Jerusalem artichoke veloute



There are just two choices per course and we chose one of each to start: poached and roasted breast of quail in a consomme of aromatic vegetables and a veloute of jerusalem artichoke with chanterelles.  Followed by slow cooked ox cheek with parsnips, potato puree and puy lentils for both of us - it's just the night for something that sounds so comforting.  The veloute is served with haricot beans and a delicate square of pasta hides under the mushrooms - the whole dish is full of contrasting textures and flavours and is delicious.  The quail is swimming in the most wonderful broth with the addition of pearl barley - brimful of the taste of autumn.  The wines chosen are a Roussane/Chardonnay blend from the Pays d'Oc for the veloute which turns out to be the right foil for those creamy, earthy notes, and a Verdicchio for the quail - an interesting choice this, given the meaty flavours but in the end it pairs well.   



Braised ox cheeks



The ox cheeks are fork tender and almost melt in the mouth, while the potato puree is what mashed potato longs to be - rich and ultra smooth, it's the James Bond of the humble spud.  Roasted parsnips are perfectly cooked - tender and with a crisp outer.  We drink a 2009 Barbera d'Alba which has good balance and works well with this comfort food dish.



Vanilla pannacotta



A pre-dessert of vanilla pannacotta with blackberry puree and pear arrives and carries through the autumn theme perfectly.

For dessert we both opt for caramel parfait with chocolate streusel and black treacle ice cream - this last ingredient intriguing us both.  It tastes like caramel on steroids, deep and intense but not over sweet, and marries the flavours of the parfait beautifully.    I opt for a second glass of the Barbera instead of a dessert wine, preferring to save my sweet tooth for the pudding alone, but a Rivesaltes pairing prompts plenty of discussion as to what the grape varietal is - it turns out to be Grenache - as the wine is dark for its relative youth.  It is an unusual wine from the Roussillon area of southern France which is made using the solera system - young wines are blended with older ones in a series of barrels - leading to non-vintage wines of great cnsistency.   



Caramel parfait



We call for the bill; the restaurant has filled up and we are ready to head home.  Our last stop on the LRF tour has been a fine restaurant without pretensions, leaving that to its sibling, so it's no grand finale, just a gentle good night. 

http://www.lautrepied.co.uk/

London Restaurant Festival: Petrus

Petrus


When Gordon Ramsay and Marcus Wareing parted ways at the first Petrus (at the Berkeley Hotel, where Wareing has his current eponymous restaurant), Ramsay kept the name as part of the divorce settlement and earlier this year opened Petrus Mark II, almost within spitting distance of Wareing.  Given the very public and acrimonious nature of their split, spitting is probably an appropriate word to use.  From the off, not many critics have been kind to GR, painting the restaurant, and more importantly its food, as beige and bland.  Which is not a great endorsement, however when the everyday lunch deal is a bargain £30 for 3 courses we reckon it's worth taking a chance. 




We walk in to a setting that oozes luxe, with expanses of cream, oyster and silver offset by dark wood accents.  The circular restaurant has at its core a modernist glass rotunda housing the wine cellar and I keep feeling like I'm in the tardis waiting for it to jump the space-time continuum.  Our table backs up to this cellar, and we look out over a quadrant of the dining room where the tables are laid out to look back at us. The rotunda is the only distraction for them, so we feel a little like we're in a goldfish bowl even if it's not us our fellow diners are looking at.  There's no art on the walls, but we do face a carpeted wall with a design of an abstract woodland scene (I think) in moody shades of claret and burgundy. 



We choose easily from the daily lunch menu, and then spend a little longer discussing the wine before deciding on two half-bottles: a Chablis and a Qupe Syrah.  The wine list is extensive and of course there is an entire page of Petrus to choose from - the cheapest being £1150 for the 1981 vintage, obviously not that highly rated.  We'll leave those to the hedge fund managers.




Foie gras and duck confit terrine

 An amuse bouche of a beetroot mousse with goat cheese curd and toasted pine nuts arrives - the colour of crushed raspberries, the mousse is silky smooth and as our spoons reach the bottom we find a layer of tiny diced beetroot.  Next up are our appetizers - a foie gras and pressed duck confit terrine, and shellfish linguine.  I am beginning to dislike the current obsession of plating dishes on slate or wooden boards - I just don't get it.  Ok, ok, it's a visual thing, but really, why not just put it on a plate?  Yes, you guessed right, my terrine arrives on a piece of slate and whenever my knife slips it's like fingernails on a chalkboard - argghhhh!  The terrine itself is sublime: melt-in-the-mouth foie gras layered with finely shredded duck confit and served with paper thin slices of toasted sourdough. 


Linguine with shellfish

 The pasta is twirled and prettily surrounded by its component shellfish and some wood ear mushrooms and a lobster bisque is added tableside. It too is delicious, the bisque not overwhelming the perfectly cooked mussels, clams and scallops.  We're beginning to wonder whether the first critics got it wrong or maybe the chefs listened and made appropriate changes?  The food so far is impressive.



Bream with apple and fennel

On to the main courses: guinea fowl with puy lentils and a foie gras sauce and sea bream with apple and fennel and an apple veloute.  The latter is an unusual pairing, but the thin slices of apple and fennel add an extra texture to the dish while the veloute is not overly sweet and manages to bring the dish together well.  The fish is perfectly cooked and tender.  Both leg and breast of guinea fowl are presented in a generous serving and the sauce only subtly hints at foie gras.  Small cocottes of pommes dauphinoise and broccoli are shared between us and we finish every last mouthful. 

If we have a complaint at this point it is that the service has been a little rushed, and we'd rather take our time over a meal this good so we ask for a brief pause before dessert.   This gives us the chance to tune into what is becoming an increasingly merry party at a neighbouring table:  having started with Champagne, then at least one bottle of white, the quartet are on their second bottle of claret when the ringleader gets a call on his phone.  Apparently his horse (or the horse of which he is part-owner) has won a race, which calls for more celebrations.  As they are now on the dessert course he insists on Ch. d'Yquem which when we check the wine list is a cool £990 for the bottle.  And, oh Lord, they are drinking it with the chocolate sphere.  All four of them.  I want to wrest the bottle from them and save it from such Philistines - they could have paired it with the spiced toffee apple with a sage yoghurt parfait, or even the roasted fennel creme brulee with mango.  But chocolate??  I mourn for the layers of toffee, orange peel and honeyed pears that will never be tasted on their chocolate covered palates.  Oh well.

Chocolate sphere (imploded)

In due course we are presented with small ginger snap cones filled with lemon cream and topped with lemon zest - this is known as the pre dessert in a world where the dessert course is sub divided into three stages.  Next up are the desserts: hazelnut parfait with a chocolate centre and a praline crust and a chocolate sphere with milk cream, ice cream and honeycomb.  The frozen parfait is lovely, but the sphere is a diva demanding centre stage: the hard chocolate shell sphere melts dramatically when a warm sauce is added, revealing its inner core of ice cream and chocolate.  Oohh, and those lovely crunchy bits of honeycomb.  Yum.  It is a winning dessert that I suspect will be a menu staple if it isn't already. 



Now for the post dessert - I warned you - which is another dramatic presentation: a silver bowl which smokes liquid nitro when its lid is lifted to reveal skewered bonbons of Amaretto icecream covered in white chocolate.  Fabulous.  An order of espresso arrives with yet more nibbles - chocolate covered almonds and small slabs of extra dark chocolate, as much as you can eat.  Which, to be honest, isn't much at this point!



Coffee service

We leave the racing fans to their celebrations - they are calling for a vintage port - that horse must have won at long odds. They will probably still be there when dinner service starts and I would not like to see the size of the check.   Petrus may not be what it was when Gordon and Marcus were still together at the helm, but it's definitely on the way there and I don't think it will be long before it gets its first Michelin star.



www.gordonramsay.com/petrus





London Restaurant Festival: Bistrot Bruno Loubet

Bistrot Bruno Loubet

 

On our way to the über-chic Zetter Hotel in trendy, arty Clerkenwell we pass a retro '20s Hendrick's Gin pop-up cocktail emporium that's occupying the space of a former petrol station - proof we've landed in the heart of hipness.  While Clerkenwell is close to being upstaged by Shoreditch as the art crowd move ever east, for now it still has the edge. 



Although Bistrot Bruno Loubet is connected to the hotel, it has the feel of an independent restaurant, important when it's your name above the door. For 20 years Chef Loubet cooked in restaurants in and around London, before leaving for an 8 year stint in Brisbane, Australia. Since his return, he's been feted with the kind of critical acclaim that greets a rock star coming out of retirement, and as we missed his first incarnation we are happy to have the chance to see what all the fuss is about.



Seated at a table facing on to St. John's Square, we are opposite the lovely Tudor entrance to the Museum of the Order of St. John and the original grounds of the Priory of the Knight's Hospitalier established in the 12th century.  The restaurant has an inner core housing a curved bar and a semi-open kitchen and the dining room follows the same arc, with a lot of wood and a touch of shabby chic - antique stripped down armoires and decorations of early 20th century desk lights. 



There's a misunderstanding regarding the festival participation - it turns out BBL only offer a festival menu for dinner, not lunch as we had thought - which throws us initially.  However, looking at the everyday menu, it seems we can stay within our budget if we stick to 2 courses only so we decide to stay rather than walk to nearby St. John (Fergus Henderson's nose-to-tail eating) on the chance they a) are participating in the festival and b) have a table. 



In the end, I'm glad we did stay, but it's touch and go there for a moment especially as management don't handle the situation as well as they could.  The menu is certainly intriguing in its lack of cookie cutter dishes, and we choose boudin of guinea fowl in pea soup 'a la francaise' and Mauricette snails and meatballs with a royale of mushrooms to start with.  Good crusty bread is brought - why no side plates we wonder, when it's so messy dealing with crumbs and butter and still juggling a menu?  I get the fact that we're in a bistro rather than a restaurant - the paper top over the tablecloths are a giveaway - but please, give me a plate for my bread.   For entrees we decide on a herb stuffed rabbit leg with carrot purée and baby vegetables and a trio of lamb with smoked aubergines.  And a small carafe of Cotes de Roussillon - a Rhone syle red blend that should pair well with both dishes.





Boudin of guinea fowl in pea soup



The boudin is light, velvety and subtle and floats on a pond of partly crushed peas and pea soup, with lardons providing the counterfoil.  There's a pronounced flavour of nutmeg in the boudin, and a few too many scallions in the 'soup' for my liking, but overall the dish is a success.   The crowning glory in the snail dish is the quivering royale of mushrooms - a warm souffle of earthy flavours (some truffle oil too, I think?) that is a meal on its own.  Here it competes with a smoky tomato sauce that naps the snails and meatballs, and the dish is a sum of its parts rather than a medley. 



Trio of lamb

Stuffed leg of rabbit

My trio of lamb is a loin chop garnished with a tomato and fennel salad, a rolled breast which has been lightly breaded and deep fried and sits on a disc of crushed peas, and an 'osso buco' of the loin which is paired with the smoked aubergines.  The chop is a bit humdrum, but the other two pairings are delicious, especially the osso buco with the creamy aubergines.  The leg of rabbit has a herby stuffing and sits happily in a bed of baby vegetables as though it had never left Mr. MacGregor's garden.  Sweet carrot puree works well with the herbs and the rabbit is perfectly cooked, as well as being a healthy size.  Indeed both dishes are generously portioned so we do not feel too bad about passing on dessert. 

 

 

Henrick's Gin Pop-Up



A small gesture of apology comes in the form of a pair of cocoa dusted chocolate truffles which are presented along with the bill, though it might have been more generous to offer to comp a dessert.  There's a touch of preciousness about this bistro that belies its suggestion of a humble cafe and there's also a hefty dose of Michelin ambition without all the little touches that brings   (amuse bouches, mignardises etc.), and although we've enjoyed the food we feel a touch disappointed.  Lucky for us the Hendrick's bar is still serving its distinctive cucumber gin and tonics when we head back to our parking spot so we stop and try one.  Oh yes, that's what that meal needed, a touch of spontaneity and fun.





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