Texture is the brainchild of Icelandic born Chef Agnar Sverrisson and French born sommolier Xavier Rousset. Butter and cream, I’m told, are not involved in the Icelandic-inspired recipes. Winner of a michelin star in 2010, Texture is one part of the ascendency of Nordic cuisine.

I recently made two excursions to Norway last month, to the coastal town of Haugesund, I know next to nothing about Nordic cuisine, so while there, my meals became a personal education of sorts. I tried brown cheese or ‘Brunost’ (at the breakfast buffet no less), was introduced to shrimp-flavoured cheese pastes and smoked reindeer. The highlight however was a meal at Lothes¹, some say the pride & joy of Haugesund (in gastronomic terms), and I was thoroughly impressed with its ‘elemental’ use of local produce. Ginger ‘foam’ with truffle on risotto with Monkfish; Hollandaise and cauliflower sauce with Fillet steak; ohh… and crayfish steamed, with sunflower seeds and pickled red onion. I’m not certain how ‘Norwegian’ the meal was, but it was markedly different, an alien set of flavour combinations, but in a good way.

It was only natural for me to come home with a new found curiosity for Scandinavian food² and since we were entertaining relatives from Down Under, Texture became the default choice to further our gastronomic explorations.

The restaurant conceived by Le Manoir³ alumni, Xavier Rousset, a French sommelier and Agnar Sverrisson, an Icelandic chef places as much emphasis on cooking as it does with its selection of tipples. This partnership is also physically apparent in design, with the back-to-back bar taking up nearly as much space as the dining room. There is something very zen about the space; unpolished wooden floorings and green couches set against coffee accented walls that evoke a displaced sense of a forest in a town house. All it requires then, is maybe a recording of mother nature playing in the background, to complete the effect. This impenetrable serenity is broken with the stimulating brushstrokes of Icelander painter Tolli’s⁴ work, whose vibrant use of saturated colours breathe life to the walls, as well as to the cover plates on our tables. Elegant, natural, and maybe abit like the lair of a James Bond nemesis.

Cod fish skin, parmesan, potato and bread crisps.

These were a welcomed change to bread (although bread was also served, rye I guess), thinly crispy as one expected, though I found the fish skin was a little too much so; The yoghurt dipping however helped to alleviate the fishiness, wasabi, lettuce and I think dill, adding a invigorating edge.

We were a table of four, three of us had chosen the £22 three course set, I opted for the a la carte. Not cheap however, starters average £15, mains £25 and desserts for £8.50, that’s nearly fifty quid. We’ll come back to menu choices after the dish descriptions.

Amuse Bouche: Pea and Mint.

And we’re off with a cracking start. Ice shavings, the sweetness of whole peas, and at the bottom, a sort of custard-like mousse, minty like a toothpaste but also with flavours of pea. I think the ice made this dish more interesting than it was, a frozen pea and mint soup which helped to cleanse the palate. I’ll refrain from bringing textures into describing this combination…

Starters

Yellow fin tuna with barley, toasted almond and elderflower (set lunch)

The first course from the lunch menu, while I had a quick bite, my memory fails me as I write this. My better half seemed to enjoy this dish, though she struggled to identify the elderflower. From a visual standpoint, I thought the styling was a slobbering mess, but then again, beauty is such a subjective thing.

Anjou Pigeon, chargrilled, Sweetcorn, shallot, bacon popcorn, red wine essence £14.50

Aurelie, the front of house charmed our socks off. She was a gracious hostess, as was the rest of the staff, who were friendly, unpushy, and seemed almost shy to talk to us, even when presenting the dishes. They didn’t force conversation. She took my order and recommended this dish, one of Agnar’s signatures. Rock and roll. The meat was superbly delicate, it carried only a tinge of seared-ness about it, with sprinklings of rock salt for seasoning. I’d hazard a guess that the pigeon has been cooked sous-vide ie: very warm water and in a vacuum bag, giving rise to this melty sponge-like taste which inhabited a textural-limbo-land that was both raw and cooked at the same time.

The sweetcorn cream was just superb, it was so slippery it may as well have well been oil. The sweetness (from the three ways of corn) balanced well against the poultry, there seemed to be other earthy, shrub-like flavours thrown into the mix as well, a nutty fragrance, woodiness, as if this dish was composed of foraged elements. I know I’m reaching a little, and I am being vague, but the ideas on this plate was new to me. It was unique, at least in terms of what London based restaurants offer.

Mains

Sea trout, dill and carrots (from the set lunch)

I didn’t touch this dish, it was what my Uncle ordered. He really liked it, and from his indications, it was another example of sous-vide perfection. The styling was just ghastly, for some reason, this reminded me of those hair gel commercials pitching the messy, I-just-woke-up look…so much green…everywhere.

Corn-fed Free Range Chicken breast, leg, beans, peas, chicken jus (from the set lunch)

And the slow cooking procession continues. The chicken, like the pigeon before it, regardless if it was the breast or the leg, was melt-in-the-mouth fantastic, managing to maintain its juices, delicate and sumptous. I nicked the wing, and it was categorically the best fried chicken wing I’ve had in recent memory. Crumbly, crispy, corn-flavoured and juicy, look out Colonel Sanders. It had been deboned, and interestingly I felt the ‘phanton-bone’ effect take over. I couldn’t believe that I was cautiously chewing through it even though I knew it wasn’t there. The better half thought it was good, but her attention was elsewhere, on my dish to be exact…

Cornish Skate, langoustines, cockles, prawns, barley, shellfish broth £26.50

The messy styling technique was evident in every single dish, though by now, I was getting used to it. I suppose at least I could see all the ingredients. As one would expect with seafood, this was heartily aromatic. A barley base soaked up a smorgasbord (forgive the pun) of flavours: I detected lemon zest, raisins, cinnamon, dill, nuts, capers as well as a wholesome broth chock full of shellfishness. I am guessing white wine was involved as well.

There was so much going on, but luckily the myriad of wonderful ingredients didn’t overwhelm. Instead, the soup was simply brimming with liveliness, earthy and clean flavours abound. This was no butter, cream or truffle in sight, and in the place of big-bang flavours, there were mellow sensations, this dish marched to a utterly alternative beat. And what great interchange of textures too. The mushy langoustines disintegrated like roe, the skate, fried to a crisp, and flaky when necessary with spongy cockles and baby shrimps rounding the dish off. Everything melded and melted, it felt like a masterclass of harnessing harmonising flavours from the interplay of the various constituent ingredients.

Dessert

We were a little ‘creative’ when it came to pudding, being that the set lunch options seemed like a subset of the ala carte, we opted to share three puddings, forgoing my own choice, which would have set me back £8.50.

Valrhona White Chocolate mousse, ice cream, dill, cucumber (from the set lunch….but also on the ala carte menu for £8.50)

I really enjoyed this. Dill and cucumber reminded me of mango, bits of white chocolate and muesli cracked over seemed more for effect, though the the cloud-like chocolate mousse was a sweet whiff of fresh air. I didn’t understand the significance of the foam, it was superfluous, both figuratively and literally.

Strawberry Granita (from the set lunch)

Finally then, a frozen granita with a jammy syrup and bits of cereal. I would have preferred the soup to be warm, but overall it was a pleasant finish.

It could just be my malfunctioning taste-buds but I was certain to have tasted ginger in the truffles, and coffee in the macarons. They were both underwhelming and ironically ordinary when compared to the rest of the meal… the macarons in particular were shamefully atrocious. Petit Fours aside, we had a hugely enjoyable meal. We also ordered half a bottle of Roussette de Savoie, I forget the year or winery, Roussette being a grape which I hardly drink. Plus 2 teas and a single espresso, the bill came to £163 for four. My ala carte alone bore most of the expense, a whopping £70 (thereabouts) for two courses plus wine, coffee and service. It was expensive alright, based on this experience, I’d urge you to try either the £22 set lunch deal, which is similar in quality to the ala carte, or to go all out with the five course taster menus. The Scandinavian Fish menu is £52.50 and the meat & fish taster is £59. A wine tour available to compliment at £45 a pop.

Might these Clifton water baths⁵ be Texture’s secret weapon in the kitchen? I felt the slithery slow-cooked meats were the defining theme in Chef Agnar’s bag of tricks. On top of that, I was hugely impressed with the interplay of ingredients, and I also feel that this method of foraging to marry flavours and highlight textures (as much as it pains me to state the obvious) made the meal intriguing, beguiling and had set it apart from the pack. The chef seems to prefer naturally sweet ingredients such as barley, sweetcorn, raisins for example. I didn’t think it was just all for show, I think it was practical, adding an appealing sheen to his cooking with such ingredients.

So how Icelandic is Texture? I don’t know, I’m no expert, I did not spot Hakarl (rotting shark) or Lundabaggar (soured lamb) on the menu, though skyr (Icelandic yoghurt) and cod are on it. I’m not a stickler for authenticity to be honest, as long as it tastes good, the chef can tweak to his heart’s content. Nordic flair with a British accent then. For no apparently connected reason whatsoever, Texture reminded me of Viajante⁶. Maybe it was because this meal too, felt abit like a journey.

The empty dining room during Friday lunch service is an indication of the public’s wariness toward Nordic haute cuisine. If you were getting bored of French-Italian conventions, Texture might just be a pleasant change, if you were searching for one. I certainly enjoyed the distinctions, I think it is more than just a superficial concept and I think the food excelled. It explains why they’ve won a Michelin star this year. This certainly has been one of my more memorable meals this year, I liked it and I wholeheartedly recommend it.

The Gist of It

Texture
Icelandic £22 for lunch ; £70 for alacarte
34 Portman Street W1H 7BY
Tel. 020 7224 0028
Tube: Bond Street

Reviews elsewhere: A fork full of spaghetti ; Terry Durack for The Independent ; Matt Norman for Guardian ; Time Out London ; Wine, food and other pleasures ; Love food, Love drink ; Niamh of ELAG.

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All text and photography on this blogpost is copyright and belongs to Kang Leong, LondonEater.com. If you repost this without my permission, bad things will happen. So please don’t do it.

As many of you have heard, the big news for restaurant obsessives this week is the (leaked) release of the 2010 update to the Michelin Guide. As usual, there are some winners, some losers and some shock decisions where potentials didn’t make the big time. Whether you love it or hate it, backpatting exercise or true culinary standard, winning a michelin star (or two) is still seen by many as the ultimate accolade in the restaurant world. The iconic Red Guide has been kicking around Britain since 1974 and in it’s latest iteration has decided to award another three jewel to the British gastronomical crown. As of 2010, Britain now boasts four three-star restaurants. The lucky fella is of course the international brand name Alain Ducasse, and the winning restaurant is based in the Dorchester… which coincidentally is owned by the Sultan of Brunei.

The other big winners are of course the rising star himself Mr Brett Graham and by extension his mentor Phil Howard of The Square. The Ledbury finally lives up to their ‘rising stars’ status bestowed upon them last year, and in my view they have scored a surprise whopper with the addition of Harwood Arms to the list. So now both master and apprentice share the limelight in London, both on equal footing with two stars. I think 2009 was definitely the year of Howard and Graham, I had already alluded to this in my Ledbury/Square reviews in 2009 and while they weren’t quite the hottest tables in town, they certainly ran the best kitchens.

So who were the biggest losers then? Without a doubt, it’s got to be Gordon Ramsay. Whilst his pride and joy at Royal Hospital Road remains untouched; Claridges has been stripped of it’s solitary star. To add insult to injury, reports of his GR Holding’s financial losses certainly does not help. So this looks like a personal kitchen nightmare for Ramsay, it would be interesting to see how he digs himself out of this. Less TV work, less books and more time in the kitchen perhaps? For more on this, you can read Jay Rayner’s extended commentary. Though probably more damaging is The Capital being stripped of both stars! I was planning a visit (I still am) since it was the most affordable of the London two stars, but I had thought it was more underrated rather than dipping standards. Oh well, now that they have lost their stars, I have somehow become more fascinated with it… will they suck it up and cook their pants off this year to recapture the glory days? Has anyone been and what were your thoughts?

One announcement I was expecting never came and I am still reeling from the shock of Eastside Inn’s exclusion from this list. For me, this was 2009′s breakthrough restaurant, and I think Bjorn thoroughly deserves his sparkles. Coincidentally, I actually dine at the Bistro last night, and had a chance to speak with Bjorn himself about this year’s revision. I could tell he was gutted, well I am gutted for him as well. Though I fully expect them to gain a star when I do this write-up again in a year’s time.

Which brings me to speak about the significance of this list – how accurate is it, and what are their benchmarks? Does it guarantee good food? In my view, I feel that the Michelin guide doesn’t simply seek out great cooking, it’s judging a much smaller pool of restaurants which are backed with moneybags, or chefs with star power… sometimes, I just feel that it is abit of a back patting exercise, and stars being granted on the basis of reputation than on the back of bloody great recipes, executed by well-oiled kitchens. Then again, I don’t want to say that there is a definite pattern to things, because I don’t think there is any conspiracy here, nothing more than a madman’s babble. I think if one enjoys old fashioned wining and dining, the validity of the michelin guide still hold true. Not to say that the restaurants in the current guide serves bad food, but that good restaurants do exists outside this guide. Heck two of my personal favourites are not even in this list, Cambio de Tercio and Eastside Inn. I think it is down to different people having different perceptions of food, afterall, it is such a subjective topic that sometimes pinning down great cooking to a set of rigid standards is paradoxical to the spirit of food. One aspect of the guide that gets overlooked is value for money. As much as I love throwing money away to fund my ever increasing trouser sizes; the prices at multiple starred restaurants are simply out of reach for me. One thing is for sure: this list is not definitive. Somehow I feel that in the new mellenium, this sort of worship of the glamarous is horribly outdated, but still, I respect it.

Finally, looking into my personal crystal ball, I predict 2010 to be the year of the Galvins brothers. As I alluded to in my Bistrot de luxe write up, I think they are blazing a trail of glory this year; Windows has already won a star this year, and I am now ever anxious to see what the kitchen at La Chapelle is really capable of. They are highest on my list, and I expect to visit very soon.

Ok so what are your thoughts on this year’s guide? Feel free to share. I have put together the London List below and the information has been sourced from the official Michelin Guide website. For the restaurants which I had been to, I have linked it to my write-up where applicable, for the ones where I didn’t write it up, I have included a short remark of what I thought of the place. Deletions are marked with a strike through.

I’m hardly a Michelin Star worshipper, having only been to 19 from this list of 50 in the last two years. If you would like to follow a foodblog dedicated to the glamourous try Gen.u.ine.ness and FoodSnob.

Three Stars: 4 Restaurants

Two Stars: 7 restaurants

One Star: 39 restaurants

Source : The Michelin Guide for Great Britain & Ireland 2010 )

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The scene is set against the neighbourly backdrop of Chiswick. Tranquillity seemingly dominating this part of West London, a lazy suburbia far removed from the frenzied cry of the urban jungle. Time for lunch me thinks.

It appears that not all Michelin starred restaurants are blood sucking monsters. I was here to meet with Euwen – also a regular grub lovin’ Londoner – who was in the midst of his summer leave and we were giggling like school girls as we saw the prices on the menu – £23.50 for three courses. No this wasn’t the set menu, it didn’t seem like they had one, so this appears to be the real deal. As much as I love splurging my life savings on Michelin conquests, I was also relieved to see such modest valuations.

As I tilted my head upward to survey the décor, the charming dining room – small, but an assured space – I noticed how the clientele were a dapper lot. Fitting with the well spoken neighbourhood I guess. I entered the restaurant shamelessly rocking a red Nike tee (with dri-fit technology) and sporting bright red Nike trainers, I felt like a lost child and the Maitre de gave me a look which suggested it too.

Back to the menu then, six items were listed for each of the courses. The menu read like the usual upmarket euro fare with dishes that toured the culinary destinations Italy, France and Spain. Starters included Gazpacho Andaluz, Bresaola and Foie Gras; classic stuff it seemed. Ok let’s get the ball rolling then with Euwen’s selection of Salad of endive and poached pear with Roquefort, walnuts and sweet mustard dressing.

The summery stink of cheese against the sweet juices of the pear; this contrast was the crux of the dish. We were both a little surprised at the size of this salad, and we ended up sharing this starter. Fresh, oily and teeming with an interplay of flavours and textures, it was a salad as well-dressed as the restaurant.

There was only one thing I wanted to try for starters: Ravioli of Cornish crab and scallop with leeks and a shellfish emulsion.

The magnificent sounding dish matched its exquisite presentation, being that it was served as a single oversized ravioli with thick shellfish coloured sauce smothered all over it. Inside the pasta – al dente of course – we see the tightly packed strands of crab and scallop. The sauce was very fragrant, completely infused with seafood equally matching the rich ravioli. Rich, appetising and completely satisfactory.

I did not know what to expect at La Trompette, but at this point I was completely taken by the starters – the kitchen is churning out serious food. Main dishes were an equally regal read: glazed shoulder of lamb with Madeira; Royal seabream, mushroom duxelle samphire and buttered shellfish; it was like making a choice between luxury cars…. at Toyota prices. I’ll have the DB9 please: Grilled bavette of beef with gratin dauphinois, baby onions, button mushrooms and lardons.

Lardons, what’s that? Oh gosh, the beef looked heavenly. Served sliced and bloody, it was a fantastically viscous mouthful. As a tougher cut, the bavette had a chewy texture, but being cooked medium rare, it was a bovine sponge that soaked up the syrupy sauce that carried deep balsamic and saltiness. The roasted whole shallots bursting with flavour and the bacon providing yet more intensity and we had not even started on the excellently buttery dauphinois on the side. A conventional recipe executed perfectly.

Euwen’s turn: Roast Breast of Poulet Noir, courgette and chorizo risotto courgette fritters, lemon, garlic and parsley.

Just when I thought the beef was excellent, the chicken looked equally like a star. Garnished to the teeth, the creamy chorizo risotto was the highlight of this dish for me. The chicken breast was naturally tender, but I thought it lacked abit of juiciness for it to be anything amazing. Euwen noted a gaminess with the chicken. An attractive dish, that just falls short of being truly exciting.

Wow. A thoroughly enjoyable meal, we sampled serious good Michelin star cooking. Portions were astronomical, and we nearly didn’t have room for dessert. Very nearly. For pudding, we ordered a crème brulee with an apple compote base which garnered a mixed reaction. We thought the tangy compote diluted the eggy custard. The compote was distracting and the custard was a little lost in it. More successful however was the Rum baba resting on a bed of glazed strawberries and chantilly cream. An airy sponge cake soaked in a lightly spike rum juice, charming but the cream was overkill. I have a feeling I would have enjoyed the £5.50 supplement for the cheese instead.

In the end, La Trompette performed a graceful waltz and dazzled the senses. The cooking erred toward classical robustness, and the results were huge servings of mouth watering wonders. I still cannot believe that this lunch sneaked in under thirty quid. One of the slickest meals I’ve had, highly commended and highly recommended.

The Gist of It

La Trompette, £30 for Lunch; £45 for dinner Official Site
5 Devonshire Rd Chiswick, W4 2EU
Tel: (020) 8747 1836
Nearest Tube Station: Turnam Green

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Pompous pretension or serious contender of applied arts and gastronomy? Based in the 18th century townhouse which once bore the Dior label; we take a trip to the institution where haute cuisine and haute couture meet.

Neo

I must admit, I approached Sketch rather skeptically. I had already been for tea at one of their many tea rooms – the Glade, I believe it was – but I’d yet to dine at their Michelin starred ‘The Lecture room and Library’ on the first floor. Amazingly, I was offered a £50 voucher to sample the food there (thanks Kate). The twitterati seem quite positive toward Sketch, and armed with some positive feedback, I was rather anticipating a good meal. I just couldn’t get my head around the flash heavy website. Is this supposed to be a serious restaurant, or is it an art gallery that serves food on the side, and so many different rooms. Dammit, which room am I at again?

Conduit Street, just round the corner from the Apple Store on Regent Street. I felt the cool arty vibe the moment I stepped through the doors, neon blue and red. The entrance is furnished with a couch that looks unseatable, and a swing that seeminglly fits adults.

I’m a little lost to be honest, just what am I doing here? Downstairs and in the front of the townhouse, is ‘The Parlour’, a tearoom. Nope, not dining here. I look inward, and there is a lanky gentlemen in a superswish grey suit, with a shimmering blue tie, incredibly well groomed, he extended his hand as I stumbled – like lost sheep – toward him and shook the man’s hand.

“Mr Leong, we’ve been expecting you” How the hell did he know…?

“Your bag and your coat?” Clap, clap. “Margaret, take Mr Leong’s belongings please, and now sir, will you follow me up the stairs?”

A Mr Anderson moment. The Matrix reloaded to be exact. As we meander up the stairs, he gives me a breakdown of Sketch’s numbers: 5 rossettes, 1 Michelin star, Head Chef Pierre Gagnaire, restaurants all over the glamour cities around the world and one opening in Las Vegas, formerly house of Dior…

And just as he finishes his well rehearsed monologue, we reach the top of the stairs and have stopped in a dark hallway. Staring at us, is an imposing frontdoor, it looks solid and probably about 7 feet high. Gently, he unlocks it.

“Mr Leong, welcome to Sketch.” …..Woooosh!

The big black doors swing open to a room filled with majesty. The vivid colours were overwhelming and so much to absorb, I was in absolute exquisiteness, and for the first time, in a long time, I was completely awestruck with the showy entrance. For just a moment, my imagination was completely suspended and I actually thought I was there to meet with the Merovingian…. and maybe give Monica Belluci a quick peck in the posh loos.

Woah. Again. Woah.

Time to eat

I sat very comfortably, and the ambiance was surrealistic. As opposed to the much too drab faux chillout music in most michelin spots, this one pumped out neo-jazz/acoustic which sounded rather like Ray La Montague, or Jason Mraz. Crazy. sexy. cool. Its like discovering what michelin restaurants were trying to emulate in terms of ambiance all the while – Sketch has seemingly made every other restaurant I’ve been to seem artificial. You’ve got to hand it to the French, they really know how to put on a show, and the atmosphere at Sketch was slick.

And the slickness continued into the canapes. Before I had even looked at the menu, they layed out three plates of canapes on my table. One was a baby mug, of a chilled tomato gazpacho – a great viscious mouthfeel and a lingering rawness that hung on to my palette. A selection of biscuits and jelly, some sweet, some savoury, some cheesy, all served to grease the appetiser wheels. Finally, what I think are biscuit sticks served with a hummus like dip and in what I think, is cassava powder.

French laverbread

The menu is a thin stip of paper (measuring 2×10 to be exact) and it listed the gourmet rapide lunch. We have three choices here. For £30, two courses with coffee and petit fours; for £35, three courses with coffee and petit fours; And a monster £48 for all of the above plus a glass of sherry (which I swapped for bubbles), half a bottle of wine (went for a slightly chilled red, 06′ Touraine) and a bottle of water (sparkling for yours truly).

I don’t usually dwell on bread and nibbles, but Sketch was utterly amazing in this department. The selection included milkbread, chestnut and of course baguette. What was interesting about it were the butter it came with. An unsalted variety and then a fresh seaweed infused butter. It was like having a French remixed Laverbread (and I have had a proper welsh breakfast in Pembroke), it was so different, the oilyness and chewiness of the seaweed blended well with the butter, giving way to this fishy spread, that was a perfect compliment to bread. Flavours of the sea – could the crackles be grains of sand?

The Four Starters

The menu is a quirky one, it lists four starters, and yet, the waiter only asks for one selection from the mains. I was like, eh? What are you going to do, serve me four starters? That would be just unreal. Yup, it was indeed unreal as they served up four starters. Tapas style, I’m told.

And so we start in the middle, with a Watermelon Soup, Brunoise of Melon, Coriander, Mint and Ginger. My taster notes describe a watermelon foam, puffy and full of bubbles, there was an interesting hit of what tasted like tannic fattiness in texture, like an oil slick in the mouth, I had the same mouthfeel with the gazpacho and I believe its down to the olive oil they were using. The fruity and freshness of the watermelon were sweeten with the presence of honeydew and all was swimming in a sparkling juice of what tasted almost like ginger beer. Was it a soup or was it a veloute, or was it a fruit infused milkshake, or perhaps it was all of it, rolled into one.

Next, we go left to sample Herve this Egg, Rocket Jus and Boutargue Foam. A comfortable and what appears to be a superiorly slow cooked poach. The yolk became almost like a custard, while the egg whites was like a silken quilt gently held together with a slightly running exterior. The foamy rocket just had a sharp and salty intensity, almost like a soya sauce, but damn, this is one amazing poached egg, one that was unlike anything I’ve had before.

Moving clockwise, we get to the asparagus cream, strawberry coulis and goat’s cheese. It’s the same viscous olive oil mouthfeel again, and I’d never have thought that a dense melting goat’s cheese would go with the intense red fruits of the strawberries, but it did. It was much like having a deconstructed fruitshake, or even a yogurt, it was fresh, clinical and it wiped my palette clean from the smooth eggs, just before it.

So far, I am quite impressed. Each of the three dishes could stand on its own, each a different theme, and to each a kind of build up in flavour intensity, as varied as the changing seasons.
And now the final starter of mackerel tartare, sesame seed and a summer mesclun salad. This must be the golden summer of the four dishes. Subtle flavours of the sea, warming and tantalizing sea saltiness, with a texture so soft, the raw tartare melted in my mouth. It was roughly chopped but came out like chewable pillows. There was hardly any fishiness, as it seemed to be balanced against a balsamic and sesame dressing. Lots of subtle flavours and well executed.

I love raw food and more so, I love tartare. This was the pinnacle of the form; simple, easy to eat and delicious.

I must say, I was thoroughly impressed with my quadruplet of starters, a rapid medley, but a medley that was as colourfully vivid as the ceremony of the restaurant itself.

No Meat here

On this visit, the restaurant was doing a meatless menu. It was a choice between pan-fried salmon, risotto or sea-bream. I chose the latter of the three: Sea Bream, roasted and poached in olive oil, green pea veloute, cuttlefish, red pepper and artichoke.

My compliments to the chef for serving up a warm plate as this really helped to amplify the roasting aromas. The plate was quite abit hot, perhaps close to 60 oC (Chemistry is one of my many traits, believe me.). To taste: a sour acidity on the palette, perhaps due to the roast red peppers, the heat is hearty. The pea veloute was what prompted me to order this dish; The green soup was very delicate, having a sticky mouthfeel and a warming bang with more umaminess offered by the presence of soft cuttlefish cubes, as well as the artichoke.

The fish, by itself, was quite abit fishy, while the creamy pea veloute was dominated by abit of sourness; however, both elements met harmoniously to counter each of their dominating flavours and it gave way to a subtly rich intensity that was well balanced. My only gripe was with the texture of the fish; maybe it’s the heat, or perhaps because of the wetness, but it was a tad on the mushy side, where I expected robust flakiness.

The food just wouldn’t stop coming. I opted for the trio of desserts, and first to land on the table was a double act. One consisted of a simple red berries sorbet, smartly paired with a powdery biscuit; another was a red berry fruit salad, expertly paired with aloe vera cubes, but it was until the chocolate tart landed was I impressed with the puds. A crunchy base and an airy mousse, it was the anti-chocolate torte one usually expects. In the place of too much rich butterness, was a light crunch best described like a kit kat as opposed to a mars bar. While not as grand as the starters, the trio of desserts was a polite gentlemanly (and lady like) way to end a gourmet express, jazzed up with just a touch of cool.

Ordinary Extraordinaire

Amidst all the pompous showiness, the largely French speaking staff managed to remain calm and friendly. They oozed cool and served with zeal and understated enthusiasm, almost as if they were an extension of the restaurant’s choreography.

Needless to say, I was impressed with this visit. My oh my, do the people behind Sketch know how to put on a show, and for once I actually felt comfortable in a slick Michelin restaurant, instead of having to clench my arse and stiffen the upper lip, they took care of things in true fashion. Of course, the restaurant is nothing, if not for good food and Sketch did not disappoint in this department; flavour balancing was spot on, and I was enamoured with their creative use of olive oil and berries. Dishes tasted as they should, and in particular, the mackerel tartare worked like clock work. If I was being critical, I would say that the sea bream – for a mains – was a no-show, in comparison to the other courses; but with this 3 course meal priced at £35, it was adequate nonetheless. The £15 premium for the extra booze is worth shelling out for.

Of course, like all set lunches at Michelin restaurants, one gets the feeling that one is missing out on the big show in the taster menu, so again, this amounts to half of a review, as much (or little) as it compares to the dinner menu. Having said that, it is one of the more memorable set lunches I’ve had recently. The lecture room and library is a stunning dining space, one which you could just sit there and take in the ambiance and the rays of light penetrating the three storey high skydome from above. Ahh…. Take an afternoon off, turn of the mobile phone and plug into a realm where high fashion and high cooking meet, harmoniously.

The Gist of It

Sketch, The Lecture Room and Library official site
9 Conduit Street W1s 2XG 020 7659 4500
£35 three courses

Verdict: Crazy. Sexy. Cool. The venue alone is a rousing spectacle and the high cuisine matches the high style at Sketch. It ain’t cheap, but its worth it.

Your turn: Have you visited Sketch yet? Were your pockets deep enough for the dinner menu, how did it compare to the Lunch menu?

UPDATE: I am indebted to Gourmet Chick for this one, the £50 Sketch Voucher is actually an offer available to everyone if you sign up on their Facebook fanpage, the offer is good until the end of August 2009….. go check it out folks!

St John is currently the 14th best restaurant in the world (2009). Yes, ‘Worlds’. And I can confirm, they don’t use San Pellegrino. Apparently, the British can indeed cook. As usual, I am late to the party as it seems like the entire food writers guild has eaten here, wrote about it and then some. A darling of the food world, I wanted to know what exactly makes St John so special.

Legend has it…

Opened by Fergus Henderson in 1994; St John restaurant at St John Road has since been awarded a Michelin star and is well-known for utilising offal and neglected cuts, in what he calls the ‘nose to tail’ concept. Mr Henderson no longer cooks at the St John due to health reasons, but his restaurant continues to win the adulation of fans from around the world, including a certain Anthony Bourdain.

Accompanying me for lunch was Stefan Lubomirski de Vaux.

Through the doors

The restaurant is painted white, almost gritty over what appears to be brick walls. It feels like stepping into a refurbished warehouse and I was certain I saw sunshine penetrating a skylight roof. Perhaps it was all the stories which I had read about St John, but the space felt so ethereal, like it was of another time, or even another world. I spotted Stefan at the far end of the bar as he raised his glass toward me. I’m a little late – handshake – up the stairs and into the dining room.

Shrouded in shade, the dining room continued the ethereal theme with pristinely white table cloths and rigid white uniforms for the staff; We sat in robustly solid wooden chairs – a deep brown. Lit with hanging lamps, diffused light, it was a silhouette to the naturally lit bar and entrance, just outside the dining room. The ceilings were high, and the space was large, perhaps sitting one hundred guests or so. The atmosphere was incredibly lively as the market buzz filled my ears and created a kind of sonic landscape, we are now – supposedly – seated in the 14th best restaurant in the world….and to my surprise, not fully booked on a Friday afternoon.

I’ve heard enough, food… FOOD.

For a michelin starred restaurant which has garnered more glowing reviews than Barack Obama, the menu was surprisingly straightforward and even more surprisingly affordable. Starters priced between £4-£8, the most expensive main course was £20 and pudding could be had for six squid, and everything was written in Anglais.

A truly, great British restaurant, could it be?

Mutton Broth £6.50

Our waitress had on ruby red lipstick, with bright blonde hair, she looked every bit a proper rock star and wouldn’t be out of place next to Agnes. So I quizzed her about what to have, and she pretty much just said that everything was delicious.

Oh yummy. My mutton soup starters was intense and full flavoured, like an entire beast distilled and filtered through coffee cones and made into a juice, it was simply divine. Not too strong mutton flavours, just a slight slick of oil and a few dices of carrots, ever so simple, yet ever so good. I would have preferred if they had spruced it up with just a bit more meat (there were hardly any), but that’s just because I love delicate meat in soup.

Roast Bone Marrow & Parsley Salad £6.90

The one thing she did tell us when we sat down, was that they only had two marrows left – Stefan immediately snapped one up! Oh he was lucky to have done so because the marrow was creamy, dreamy and so gamey. Spreading the buttery texture over the bread was incredibly satisfying. Stefan offered me one, but I was left wanting so much more, I regretted not ordering one for myself.

Keep bringing the food, please.

Stage one was a major success, very able starters and I appreciated just the simplicity in the execution, well done.

Braised Veal, Carrots, Aioli £17.60

I longed for meaty chunks in the broth, and I was glad to have landed a bowl of simply braised veal in what looks to be a light broth as well. First of all, it doesn’t look like much, in fact, it looks very much like home cooked food, which is of course, a good thing. And I was so glad that this was exactly that, no poncy molecular gastronocrap on show here, it was delicious, hearty and beautifully tender chunks of meat. Mildly seasoned, the natural flavours were allowed to shine through but the real highlight was the puffy and airy aioli mix on the side. It was superlatively eggy, buttery and well seasoned. It went down smoothly with the juicy meat. I felt like I was eating in someone’s home, as if Fergus had invited me to his home and he had lovingly whipped up some lunch for us. The dish was entirely valid, it wasn’t trying to be anything other than what the menu said it was. Well done again.

We had to wait abit for our mains. Initially Stefan ordered the Rabbit, but they brought over turbot instead, hmm, we sent it back to the kitchen, they came out with Pigeon. They ran out of rabbit apparently.

Pigeon & Courgettes £15.00

Served very red in the middle and so bloody, it juiced all over the plate. Now, I’ve never really had poultry (is pigeon considered poultry?) this red before, but it was gamey, smelly and just amazing. The texture had an interesting chunkiness to it – abit like a Tempur pillow with the kind of slow moulding to your teeth as you sink in. The flavour was liver-like, mushy and soily… not adjectives which sound appealing, but if you’re into neglected meats – this was different, in a good way.

I cannot do without pudding

Apricot crumble with ginger ice cream £6.70

We didn’t order any Madeleines, but I suspect I will be back again to try them. Instead we went with the daily special of apricot crumble. Rich sweetness balancing the sour, the apricot flavours shone through and the almond infused crumble was delightful. Though I was completely taken with the ginger ice cream, it was well rounded and just absolutely stunning.

We also ordered Raspberries, Malted Meringue & Cream (£6.70). Airy, puffy and chewy malts which stuck to the gums. This one was honey sweet, balanced with the fruitiness of the raspberries – did Fergus invent some machine to source clouds from the heavens and convert them into plate-able format? If cloud nine was edible, it would be a St John’s malted meringue.

Where in the world Top 50 indeed.

I had an enjoyable meal at St John. I was so glad that it wasn’t one that featured the world’s next bacon lettuce ice cream canapé or the world’s next nitrogen infused seashell that sang Britney Spears songs; Instead, St John churned out mind numbingly simple food.

Yeah, there were a couple of things on the menu which I’d never heard of like, chitterlings for example, but otherwise, it was completely down to earth. The utter simplicity was its main selling point, and yes I can see why St John is so very special. The food has an innocent charm about it and the restaurant beats with soul and character, somehow I wished this place didn’t come with all the attention that surrounds it, because it feels so much like a hidden gem of a local restaurant. Indeed, that would have only added to the mystique…

Is it deserved of its place among the glitzy glamour of the world top 50? Well, who knows, its there, and so it shall be remain for the time being I suppose. For London at least, its an institution whose kitchen is still churning out magic; let’s hope it stays this way, simple, rustic and completely nose to tail.

The Gist of It

St John Official Site
26 St John Street EC1M 4AY 020 7251 0848
£40pp

Verdict: A loving restaurant, completely devoid of pretension and serving honestly superlative British cuisine, at affordable prices. A true London institution.

What are your thoughts about St John? Did you have a great experience, or abit of a dud?

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Nahm Official site
The Halkin SW1X 7DJ +44 (0) 20 7333 1234
Lunch £20pp  Dinner £60 pp

Nahm is the only Thai restaurant in London to have a michelin sparkle around it’s neck. The restaurant is of course Chef David Thompson’s labour of love; Legend has it that the Australian chef who was once ‘seduced by the gracious country‘ spent many moons training under the guiding hand of an elder matriarch who cooked for the Royal Thai family. The man’s story is an inspired one and his dedication to Thai food is perhaps only rivalled by his head chef at Nahm, Matthew Albert. I was fortunate enough to be invited to sample Nahm’s food and I was expecting nothing less than regality.

A Royal Amusement

I don’t do well with invites, it gives me the jitters. How am I suppose to be completely objective with this stuff? Ah well, I do try. I’m following Helen the world foodie guide’s lead who was also invited on a separate occasion.

The marble floors and polished woods were all bathed in full regal glory under the golden hued lights and amazingly large golden pillars. After all, Nahm is based on age old royal traditions, so one should feel suitably like a King when stepping through to the restaurant.

The front of house recommended we go with the Namn Arharn, which I intepreted as a kind of degustation style taster menu what with the michelin conventions and all. But it wasn’t. The Nahm Arharn allowed you to pick five courses from the a la carte, and all the dishes were to be shared by the table. This included a soup, a salad, a relish, a curry and a stir fry. It also includes additional appetiser course as well. Oh and the all important jasmine fragrant rice.

Wonderful, I am in anticipation of a full on banquet now, but first an amuse bouche in the form of a sweet and savoury concoction of minced meat over a slice of pineapple, with coriander to top it all off. This was interestingly appetising as the caramelised palm sugar blended well with the peanut flavours. There was a faint hint of heat in my aftertaste too – good start.

The theme of salt.

So, the first dish to land on our table were the salt chicken wafers, with longans and thai basil. A light crispy crunch to the wafers and I could taste green curry heat and aromatic coriander flavours. I was looking for the sweet longans in the wafer, but the pieces weren’t enough and while the intensity of the salt chicken was appetising, at first, it quickly became much too salty for me, to the point where the salt had completely drowned out the sweetness of the longan. Water, water.

After we finished up on this little appetiser dish, our waiters proceeded to lay out all the rest of the dishes on the table. She then took the time to explain what each dish was, and how to best enjoy it (apart from me just stuffing it all in one go) with the relishes on the side. Still feeling a tad dry from the salt infusion earlier on, I started with the hot and sour, dtom yam soup, made with mussels, shrimp paste, tomatoes, thai basil and coriander, the dtom yam is the quintessential Thai dish and perhaps the best way for a chef to showcase his talents in balancing the dominant flavours in Thai cooking what with the savoury, the sweet and the spicy.

Oh, the chilli is indeed intense as I immediately felt the burn – a good thing for clearing up the sinuses. I do appreciate the flavours which the mussels contribute to the soup, but phew, like the salty chicken before it, this one was just a little too salty for me, to the point where it was beginning to compete with the chilli and drown out the rest of the good spices in this delicate balancing act of strong flavours. In the end, I was reaching for more water as the scales tipped over the salty scale.

The lobster salad

I should mention that the staff are excellent. Friendly, helpful and one could tell that they share a similar passion for Thai food as their chefs. I was a little disappointed with the soup, but perhaps we’ll do better with the mains. Starting with the young ginger and lobster salad. The brightness of the citrus was a welcomed change, with the shallots giving it a fresh edge. The light ginger broth which accompanied the dish helped to moisten things up, however, Matt could have been a little more generous with the lobster as I felt a little embarrassed to be digging around for the few shredded pieces, when whole lobster tail chunks would have made for a more inspiring, and tasteful salad.

Relishing it

I love rice. I grew up with it, afterall. Some people tend to go with brown rice because it’s healthier but nothing beats great thai fragrant rice, like thai fragrant rice. I’ve one of these people who likes his bowl of rice to be pristine at the start of a meal (ie: sauce on side, not on top) , but will lovingly spread any relishes or gravies when Im eating.

Going around the table to the next dish is a Chiang Mai relish with minced pork and tomatoes served with grilled trout. This is much better. The mince pork relish is an excellent companion with the rice, one would have preferred the pomfret to the trout; but that’s just me. The sweetness of the palm sugar is beautifully balanced against the savoury muscle of the garlic, shallots and chilli, giving it a sweet taste as it hits your mouth and just a little bit of the heat as it hits the throat. The graininess was great too and the chunky sauce was delightfully appetising, really reminded me of my surrealistic experiences as a child when my folks took me to Thai restaurants.

Next up were the grilled scottish scallops with garlic, chilli and lime sauce. It had a rrp of £18.50 on the menu, £2 supplement to the £55pp Nahm Arharn, and we were served with two scallop shells, hm, pricy stuff.

The scallops were really juicy, as one might expect and the sizzling citrusy soup was great. Not entirely certain what the slices were (I want to say mango), it did well to bring a edgey dynamic to the palette. It’s a little more intense than usual, but I quite enjoyed the sharp tanginess against the sweet scallops.

Let the curry be the acid test

Thai restaurants need to have great curry. It’s where all that strong flavours finally gets to delicately meld together. If there was one dish that had to be good, it had better be this one.

I opted for the red curry of roast duck with longans and thai basil. And thankfully this did not disappoint. The rich red curry was alot milder than I had anticipated, probably due to the juices from the longan, imparting a slight sweetness to the curry. I appreciated the thick graininess to the mix and I was thoroughly impressed with the soft duck – which was now a wide gamut of sweet and spicy flavours. This was the best dish of the lot.

There is always room for pudding and little bit more

I was royally stuffed at the end of the meal, but I always manage to find abit of room for dessert. That does explain why I don’t fit into the jeans I bought last month anymore.

The good stuff were the mango slices layered on top of sticky rice. Those golden slices were juicy and full of honey-like flavours. So much so, I might have mistaken them for Filipino mangoes (nb: Filipino mangoes are really awesome.), they went well with the savoury rice, and like a yin to a yang, this was fantastic.

The not so good stuff was the rather confusing coconut jelly with rambutans steeped in perfumed syrup. The jelly was far too tough as it very nearly slipped away from the plate as I tried to cut into it, and I didnt quite understand the need for fried shallots in an almost sour ‘perfumed’ syrupy soup with which the rambutans swam in.

All in all, I had a good meal at Nahm. There were certainly highlights but at the same time, there were a few dishes where I felt could have been better. You’ll forgive me for my biasness being a complimentary meal, however in my struggle for the ever objective opinion, I found the flavours lacking balance. Given that Thai flavours of strong on strong is a difficult one to manage and to get right, I felt that every dish seemed to have a tad too much of an overriding component. While this imbalance means an eye-openingly intense mouthful, upon first tasting; it does tend to drown out the rest of the variety of flavours, leading me to experience a kind of flavour fatigue and drinking more water than necessary to cleanse the palette. Purists might disagree with me, hmm, I dont know, what do you think?

A dinner at Nahm does not come cheap and you’re looking at about £60 per head, though a two course lunch is a tad more affordable at under £20 per head. Thank you David, Matt and Diana for the wonderful meal, I thoroughly enjoyed it, however I need to be honest: There are flashes of brilliant Thai food here that will give one a mild rush, just not a sizzling sinus clearing one.

The Gist of It.

Nahm Official site
The Halkin SW1X 7DJ +44 (0) 20 7333 1234
Lunch £20pp  Dinner £50 pp

I’m running late. The Hammersmith and city line suddenly decided to pull a district, I’m starving and I should have worn something warmer. So when I got off at Westbourne Grove station, I ran. I ran like my tummy depended on it and when I got there, I was warmly received by the front of house and greeted with canapes. An airy and puffy sweet beetroot meringue sandwiched an intense goats cheese. That cheesy flavour is so familiar though… why yes of course. It’s a posh cheesy wotsit.

The Ledbury is well-liked

Well liked is an understatement.

It received a ‘rising star’ backslap from the Michelin man in January when they revised the red guide and is ear marked to hit two stars very soon. Critics and bloggers alike seem to be loving Chef Brett Graham’s work and having trained under Phil Howard at the foodie rockstar central, The Square; The Ledbury has true pedigree and then some. I’ve been wanting to eat here for months now, what with all the positive publicity that’s been directed this way, and after an awesome visit to the Square earlier this year, well, I’m expecting fireworks.

Take a menu away with you, I always do, and build up a collection. Seriously, I really do at the end of the meal. Most restaurants print them out on A4 in any case, so they’d happily give it out. It’s how I keep track of the long descriptions of dishes, plus it makes for a pretty cool souvenir to take home. I’m thinking some sort of scrapbook of menus from all my London Eater conquests. Fancy that, eh.

Lush cream and silk curtains flow along the walls and they hit the dark wooden floors with a pattern that is not too dissimilar to that of The Square. Behind the curtains are actually wall length glass panels, which curiously, make it feel like a dressed up ballroom. There doesnt seem to be any dark corners where couples can duck away, but the restaurant itself is not very big, though not tiny. I’m sure the same designers have done up the Ledbury as one really does get the impression like this is The Square’s little brother. Different salt and pepper shakers, but similar set up. 

More canapes

I was a little torn over lunch. The set menu is competitive: scallops to start, monkfish for mains, for only £25 (for 3 cs). On the other hand, the a la carte is a reasonable £40 – £45. Hmm, perhaps it’s best I mull over this while I gobble up more canapes (free food!). I believe this is a carpaccio of Roe Deer on Toasted Brioche. Never quite had salted deer meat before, and I am told that Chef does likes his game. Woah. That is a good chunk of free food. The carpaccio is very good. It carried a full bodied savouriness that was expertly balanced with the bread.  There were hints of smoke in it’s taste, and not visible is a creamy, sort of sour cream like paste that the whole thing sits on. A mini melt in your mouth sensation. Even the bread was good, actually a bacon and onion roll.

Ok drumroll, Chef Brett is in the kitchen today. Yes. That’s decided then, I really need to pay my respects in that regard. Bring on the A la carte Brett and hit me with all you’ve got.

A lesson in celeriac

I’m one of these boys who hated eating his veges while growing up. I didn’t like spinach, even though I loved Popeye. I couldn’t understand why tomatoes tasted so sour to me, and I didnt know why some people enjoyed the stickiness of ladyfingers. My eyes gravitated toward the eel as I chose a starter, but I was intrigued by description of the celeriac: ”baked in ash with hazelnuts, wood sorrel“. Sounds amazingly fancy. I do know that Phil Howard is totally into his molecular gastronomy, and I got A’s for GCSE Chemisty, and the two are completely unrelated but that’s how my mind works.

I ordered a glass of Marlborough Pinot in case you were wondering. I guess my tastebuds still haven’t matured to the point where I need something more robust than strawberries and jam. Celeriac is usually pureed into veloutes in puffy restaurants, and so this is my first time eating it, in a more solid form. Here’s the really cool part. The chef insisted I get abit of insight about how this dish is cooked and brought out the lump of celeriac. It was wrapped in a salt crust, and when my waiter cut into it, there was alot of aromatic steam rising from within. It really looked like such a hearty lump of goodness. I also noticed how the entire celeraic is darkened with ash, oh just that smell, it’s really amazing. I’m starving looking at it.

Celeriac baked in ash with hazelnuts, wood sorrel and a kromeski of middle white pork £13

It didn’t take them very long to plate up and what a glorious looking dish. The little mayonic dashes dotted around the dish is actually a black truffle mayo I’m told, and it also comes with some shaved hen eggs. The celeriac was simply amazing. It had a rich salt flavour, but also had a warming smokiness associated with it as well. The inherent natural sweetness of the celeriac added dimension, and the slices of celeriac seemed to retain alot of moisture. The texture was almost like a gently silky steamed turbot, or even a cod. If I was blind tasting this, I wouldn’t have guessed it to be a vegetable. The hazelnut really added alot colour to the flavour, it gave it that regal and fragrant aftertaste. The breaded pork – in comparison – was smooth and mild, but the celeriac didnt need it at all. Of course,  when you try to put abit of everything together, the dish becomes a whole new rollercoaster ride altogether, though the celeriac really dominates.

Very skillful work and I’m thoroughly impressed.  

The best end of Deer

So far so good. I’m feeling comfortable in the dining space, no music on friday lunch, but otherwise I like the high ceilings. I just have to share this picture with you, again the chef wanted me to see it. I went with game (hopefully all shot removed) because that’s what Brett loves to cook. I’m not sure if it was actually roasted in the mountain woody.

That is a royal piece of meat, the best end of it no less. 

Best end of Roe Deer baked in Hay with a Croustillant of Parsley and Chervil Roots, Baby Beetroots and Pepper £26

So here’s the glorious main dish. I immediately noticed the resemblence between this one and Phil’s Ayrshire fillet (picture on the sidebar to your right). There is alot going on with this one. There’s the creamy pepper veloute with black olive shavings. A gorgeously rich slice of parsnip wrapped in a sort of salted mountain herb lard (if I remember correctly, an old Italian recipe), baby beetroots, little potato croustillants and a deer sausage. The meat itself: is the best end stuff. Incredible gamey sensations, not for everybody, but certainly a fully realised flavour that carried alot of smokiness to it. If an aged aberdeen ribeye was a cab sav, this would be a Grange. Lots of muscular flavours in the game and you know what, it was amazingly tender as well. I noticed how it took almost no effort to chew down the moist meat. The grand ingredient was also accompanied by a sweet, honey like sauce. I’m a real stickler for natural flavours, but this sweet sauce masked the intensity of the game rather well. I couldn’t quite figure this one out and tapped on the waiter. He told me it was made from the juices of the deer and then finished off with Madeira. Amazing.

In it’s totality, this dish was a tender mish mash of sweet flavours interplaying with the smokey and powering game. Somehow it kept evoking a sense of the great outdoors, I just don’t know why I kept thinking about the woods and the need for timberlands to keep warm.    

Oh, I should also mention that the mushy lamb sausage carried a bitter aftertaste and was mince hache liver-like in taste. Every ingredient on this dish jived like grand symphony and the essence was an amazingly tender and bouncy game, masked nicely by the jus and it was a meaty dish which one could wash down like good glass of wine.

Pudding!

Brown sugar tart with muscat grapes, white raisin ice cream and vin cotto £6.5

I don’t always dedicate a section of pudding these days and I don’t do it because sugar hardly ever goes wrong. I know, I know, pudding is an exact science, but most restaurants will get it right, just not mind blowing right.

The brown sugar tart was good. It had a short cake layer that was infused with a very pure sugar taste. Sitting on top was a dense and wobbly reformed cooked cream – milky and yummy. 

I wasn’t too bowled over with the tough skinned muscat grapes, but I did enjoy the foamy white raisin ice cream.

I was running a little late to catch Two Lovers, so I skipped on the souffle, perhaps that might have floated my boat abit more. Good pudding, nothing wrong with it, except that I’ve had better.

See what I mean? 

My thoughts are wow

I enjoyed the Brett Graham show, alot. I think the young Australian is chock full of talent and he rightly deserves his rising two star status. If he keeps up this standard of cooking, he will rocket all the way to the top. I didn’t detect any basic technical flaws, the overall theme in his playbook seems to offer rich, intense and earthy flavours. Strong flavours, but he does understand the need for contrast and downplays those dominating flavours with something sweet to balance it out. I did notice the similarities between Brett’s style of cooking with Phil’s, and if I’m being honest, I think I still had a better meal at the Square (it better be, the square is £75.00 for three courses). Choice of ingredients aside, I think Phil errs a little bit more toward to centre with regards to the flavour balancing aspect and for me, its a personal choice to eat ‘milder’ food.

That’s not a knock on the Ledbury at all, in my humble opinion, the celeriac starter was one of the best dishes I’ve ever eaten and if I had to choose one restaurant to go back to – I would choose the Ledbury. Price wise, it makes alot of sense, my meal plus a glass of wine and service came to just under sixty quid, and I think Brett’s cooking is definitely at the top end of the one michelin mark. Exciting, thoroughly impressed and I admire how the Ledbury is totally focused on delivering the best dishes to the customer. That kind of pretension free attitude, and commitment toward cooking is what Michelin stars should be all about.

One of the best meals so far.

Clap, clap clap.

The Gist of It.

The Ledbury Official site
127 Ledbury Road W11 2AQ 020 7792 9090
Set Lunch £25 Ala Carte £45 three courses
Verdict: Fuss free and totally focused on creating exciting dishes. Chef Brett understands the essence of the michelin star. Slick, awesome food, nearly impossible to describe and even more impossible to replicate. High cooking indeed.

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I’ve been asked to write a guest review by Londoneater and by coincidence I happen to have a 2nd visit to Ambassade de L’ile which I had lying around. Rather than publishing another review on my blog. I thought it would be ideal guest columnist write-up. For does who do not know me yet, I am a medical student who happens to be fortunate enough to dine out more often than the average student. I suppose, it is a reflection of the number of years I have spent training to be a doctor that my writing is more concise and to the point than most other food writers. I do tend not to indulge in descriptive prose (not very helpful when a patient is very ill and needs immediate help), although I sometimes can’t help making a medical reference or two. My main focus is on food and food alone. If you want to read about how beautiful the hand dryers are in the restaurant’s toilet I am the wrong writer for you. However, given that I am a guest reviewer, I thought I would depart slightly from my usual writing style where I grade each dish, but instead give a more descriptive account of my experience.

I can’t remember a restaurant in London which has created such a divide in opinion as Ambassade. The restaurant has received as much high praise as it has stinging critiscm from food writers, restaurant critics and bloggers. I personally think that some of the critiscm is unjust – the inexplicable and infamous review by AA Gill who wrote ‘All the cooking, whoever or wherever itís done, is craftsmanlike, considered and thoughtful’ yet only merited a rating of 1/5 because he didn’t like the decor. It seems many of these British food writers have an inferiority complex eager for each and every foreign chef to step foot in England to fail miserably. Nevertheless, Ambassade has received high praise as well. Food writer, Andy Hayler, one of the most knowledgeble and well travelled critic (he has eaten at every single Michelin 3* establishment around the world), rates Ambassade de L’ile as the best restaurant in London. High praise indeed when you stop to consider that this includes the Gordon Ramsay’s 3* restaurant.

Ambassade is located on Old Brompton Road. The distinctive Edwardian building originally housed a library. In more recent times, the building has housed various restaurants including Lundumís and Chanterelle. The chef at Ambassade, Jean-Christophe Ansalay-Alex also runs the 2 Michelin starred líAuberge de líIle in Lyon. líAuberge is located on a tranquil island in the SaÙne called Ile Barbe which was declared an independent and sovereign state by the famous author Felix Benoit in 1977.

Chef patron Jean-Christophe is deprived of the use of his right hand due to an accident he suffered in 1990. It was around this time as well that he returned to work at his family own restaurant, the aforementioned Auberge. He navigated the restaurant through two difficult years in 1991 and 1992 during the Gulf War period before winning his first Michelin Star in 1993. The second star duly arrived in 2002. Jean-Christophe was made honorary Governor of líIle Barbe. It is from this that Ambassade gets its name – the restaurant is an outpost of líAuberge.

The building can easily be missed if you aren’t looking for it as there isn’t a visible signboard nor is it blatantly clear that it is a restaurant. Whilst you may assume that the decor is classical and old-fashioned judging from the exterior of the restaurant, the interior is anything but. If anything, the decor inside is ultra-modern, stylish and chic in a love-it or hate-it manner. Emphasis is placed on the colours purple and white – no doubt inspired by the flag of Ile Barbe. The lounge area, which you will see as you enter the restaurant houses large white leather sofas with ample magazines, the daily newspaper and a large cookbook for you to peruse while waiting for other guests.There is a very stylish and fully functional fireplace here.

The dining room itself is spacious with white leather chairs accompanying large tables draped in white table clothe and purple lighting. The restaurant seats 40 covers with a downstairs private dining room as well as a chefís table. Black wooden blinds are placed around the restaurant. A nifty feature of the restaurant is plasma TVs placed at specific locations in the dining room which allows diners to catch a glimpse of the kitchen at work.

The menu is ever-changing and unlike many restaurants in London, the menu changes every MONTH depending on what items are at the peak of its season. The a la carte menu is limited to 4 options for starters, fish course, meat course and desserts. Items are individually priced and impressively, the chef places as much important on expensive ingredients like caviar, foie gras and truffles as he does with cheap ingredients like sardines, porks cheeks and sausages. A menu dÈcouvert (Tasting menu) is available as either 5 or 7 course and features various dishes which were not available on the main menu. Many dishes which may appear on the restaurant’s menu have been featured on UKTV’s ‘Greatest Dishes in the World’ including of course Canard a la Press which easily won the ‘poultry and game’ category for its combination of taste and theatre.

Les Beignets díHerbes Aromatiques

Canapes came in the form of an assortment of vegetable crisps. This consisted of crispy thin slices of sweet potato, beetroot and lotus as well as mixed herb beignets composed of basil, coriander and mint. The nibbles were ideal accompaniment with an apperitif (*hint* champagne) with bursts of saltiness accompanying the sweetness of the vegetables and the íspicinessí of the herbs. As would be expected from a restaurant of this calibre, the fried goodies were virtually grease-less.

Bread was a selection of white or brown and was made in house – a huge plus when you consider a lot of top restaurants including the Fat Duck and Gordon Ramsay have their bread brought in. I personally can’t understand why so many restaurants can’t be bothered to make their own bread as it is more cost effective and yields better results when made properly. Both types of bread were perfectly capable with good crust and soft fluffy interior with enough salt to lift it from being ordinary to something remarkable. Bread was served with both salted and unsalted butter, again of high quality.

Baked Clam, Brunoise Vegetables & Truffled Butter; Deep-fried Boudin Noir with Quince Syrup

Amuse bouche was amusingly (sorry for the pun) served on a turf of grass. First, baked clam served in its own shell accompanied with brunoise vegetables and truffled butter. The tiny morsel of clam laid on top of a finely diced mirepoix and then topped off with a small dollop of truffled butter foam. The sweetness and slight brininess of the clam was highlighted by the grassy, tender vegetables. The truffled butter added a layer of richness and earthiness to give this simple offering more complexity and depth, while retaining the clean, crisp flavours.
This was a stark contrast from the second offering of deep-fried boudin noir (the French equivalent of black pudding) and quince syrup. Served on a spoon, handle detached, the smooth, rich and creamy boudin noir was matched perfectly by the acidity of the quince syrup.

Foie gras de Canard au Torchon servi en Brioche Mousseline, Ketchup de Coing

Foie gras, prepared au torchon was served in a brioche mousseline. The circular ‘brick’ of foie gras and brioche was smartly presented on a black slate before being sliced and presented with a quenelle of quince ketchup. This showed technical execution with the warm, butter, light-as-air brioche surrounding the cold foie gras. The foie gras itself was well prepared – carefully prepared and deveined, it was silky smooth with good liver flavour. Again, the quince ketchup showed great balance of sweet and sour notes to cut through the fatty liver.

Goujonnettes de Barbue de Ligne et grosse Gambas ìcomme un Fish & Chipsî

As it was a Friday, it only made sense to enjoy the mandatory helping of Fish & Chips. Brill and prawn goujons were served wrapped in paper showing chef Ansanay-Alex’s sense of humour. Chips were in fact sticks of deep fried parsnip with a small pot of tomato bernaise for dipping purposes. The fresh brill and sweet prawns were unfortunately let down by the deep frying process which resulted in the goujons being soggy and greasy, a rare lapse by the kitchen. This dish was somewhat saved by the immensely well made tomato bernaise with just the right amount of tarragon. Often, bernaise which is badly made turns out cloying because it taste more like sweet custard infused with ridiculous amounts of tarragon. As good as the sauce was, this dish was a missed opportunity.

Canard au Sang servi ì‡ la Presseî en deux services

The star of the day belonged to the Canard a la Presse. The glistening, mahagony Gressingham duck was presented to us it all its majestic beauty before being carved at tableside.

After the breast and legs have been removed, the rest of the duck is snipped up using a nifty pair of scissors before being placed in a small container and squeezed using the very exotic duck press. One common misconception is that the purpose of pressing is to extract the blood from the duck as suggested by the name of the dish. In actual fact, the duck marrow (and to a lesser extent, the juices) is the desired component, which when added to the sauce is supposed to give it a deeper, luscious, velvety taste.

The first part of the dish was composed of the duck breast, pretty in pink (sorry bad reference to an equally bad movie). Sliced lengthwise in half, the duck breast sat in a pool of the marrow-enriched sauce. You know people always talk about braised beef or lamb which is melting tender you could cut it with your fork? How about the duck breast here which was so perfectly cooked, so unctuos, so soft, so tender it gave way with the slightest push of the fork. No the duck breast had not been stewed to death for an eternity. No sir! This was lesson 101 in great cooking technique highlighting an amazing product. And how could I talk about the dish without mentioning the sauce. I find it hard to put in words the utter brilliance of the sauce. I was grinning like a greedy Cheshire cat who has had his saucer of cream. Deep, clean, earthy, with the slight richness of the iron, the sauce highlighted what classical French haute cuisine is all about. And who would have thought that the innocent looking slices of turnips presented with the duck would have been the ultimate stroke of genius? Many a time, restaurants, even the best ones are guilty of making vegetable garnishes an afterthought. It just shows how well composed the dish was as the pickled turnips tied all the components together with its hint of pepperiness and acidity cutting through the fatty duck and the luscious sauce. Utterly, simply, mind-blowing.

Part two of the dish was a more simplistic affair – the duck leg and liver served with a frissee salad, gently tossed with aged balsamic vinegar. Great judgement was shown in the dressing of the salad. I can’t recount the number of times I have had to endure salad drenched in so much balsamic vinegar I would have had preferred sucking on a lemon. Liver is a pretty tricky thing to serve especially when it isn’t called foie gras. Gently caramelised with a bit of icing sugar, the duck liver had a small sweet note to coincide with its bitter notes.

Friandiases: CanelÈ et Macaroon

Small pre-dessert bites consisted of CanelÈs and Macaroons. The ‘CanelÈs’ were filled with blackcurrant custard and topped off with a burnt sugar before a small dusting of gold dusting is administered to give it that royal glow. The burnt sugar were an utter joy to crunch into, giving out a resonant snap with each bite.

A large tray of macaroons were of the vanilla and blueberry variety. Anyone who has even tried to make macaroons at home will know how labour intensive they are to make, and even more difficult to get right. Hollow, light, airy yet somehow still crisp, the macaroons were as good as any I have tasted (and yes I have tasted many in case you are wondering).

Tarte sablÈe ‡ la Ch‚taigne et Citron confit, Sabayon au Lagavulin

Desserts seem to and remain to be the weak point of Ambassade. Don’t take this to mean that they are awful – even at their worst, the desserts here would put many Michelin starred restaurants to shame. Their lemon confit and chestnut tart topped with a whisky sabayon (or zabaglione) fell into the category of pleasant, enjoyable but never in the mind blowing, orgasmic category. The tart featured a deft hand in pastry making with a nice crumbly base balanced by the smoky and nutty chestnut and the sharpness of the lemon. Hidden under the caramel case, the heavenly sabayon was so light you would have been forgiven if you thought you were eating clouds. Somehow another though, all the components in this dish did not add up for me to become one single, truly pleasurable entity.

Truffe Chocolat blanc et Truffe blanche díAlba, un coulis de Poire

Alba white truffles, more commonly seen on the savoury menu than on the sweets were also given prominent feature. Apparently the pairing of white truffle with white chocolate truffle is a popular Lyonnaise combination. If the previous dessert was not mind-blowing, this was certainly thought provoking and revolutionary. The combination of the sweet and milky chocolate with the powerful and earthy white truffles was a winner from the first bite. The pear coulis was an ingenious addition given the cleansing nature of the pear as well as its low acidity content. And if anything, you can just look and admire how beautiful the darn thing is with its sugared ring prettily decorated with gold leaf.

It is worth mentioning that there is a small coffee menu here including the lovely Jamaican Blue Mountain. Petit fours seem to be an afterthought, with a singular chocolate basket filled with liquid cherry jelly and decorated with even more gold leaf.

Liquorice Ice Cream, Gingerbread Cone, Star Anise Sweet

Full, satisfied and ready to leave, we were ambushed at the reception after putting our coats on with a small parting treat, the chef’s signature dessert – a miniature liquorice ice cream on a gingerbread cone topped with a star anise sweet. Liquorice is the kind of thing you either love or hate and the idea of liquorice ice cream falls between the line of sheer lunacy and absolute genius. This brings me back to the point I made at the start of my review and pretty much sums up why there is such a great divide in opinion of this restaurant. Madness or brilliance, one thing that cannot be doubted is that behind all this is a kitchen which has absolute mastery and deftness in their cooking technique.

Ambassade de líIle
117/119 Old Brompton Road
London, SW7 3RN
Tel: 020 7373 7774

http://www.ambassadedelile.com/

Gen eats out regularly at the finest fine diners in London and his ultra sleek blog at Gen.u.ine.ness covers his gastro manic conquests. If you enjoyed his guest post, be sure to pop back to London Eater on 11th march to vote for him, till then point your browser to Gen.u.ine.ness now.

I am a feeble little soul afraid to be shamed in public when discovered that what I preach is but a false pretension. Woe is me.

I am always slightly nervous whenever I meet up with peeps and they send me a message like this: “Friday sounds great – I’d imagine you’d be better than me at picking a place to eat” Gulp. At that moment in time, my mind goes into abit of a freeze and I have to take my own advice and just go with something I would recommend on London Eater.

Do I feel like a fraud? Oh yes. Am I hungry? Yes, too.

I feel like screaming to the chef ‘gawd you better be cooking up a storm!’ ….ok deep breathe, ah – talk about being a drama queen eh ( but a soppy one, Lizzie ) . I’ve always loved the idea of Mr Demetre’s vision of budget fine dining. Both his establishments use cheaper ingredients – but the cooking is imaginative and the food tastes great. Cheap considering the michelin star. Recession beating, good food and perhaps Soho’s shining culinary star. Tim and Candice join me for this one.

Metrotwin is Made by Many

I have only ever met one guy more into the coming web than me and his name is Tim Malbon(ster). Tim can’t wait for the day when we can download our minds to web 3.0, he’s nudged me for a lunch to catch up on Metrotwin and he can’t wait to order a bottle of something, something. Cue for my first suggestion of the day: a carafe ( £14) of German spatburgunder made from late harvest pinot noir grapes from Burgundy, but grown on German soil. If you’ve never had it go try it, it’s vanilla sweet and a mineral hit like a Beajoulais Nouveau but stronger and jammier. If you hate jammy then avoid, otherwise the freshness rocks like creamy silk; I love it and Tim seems happy to be ingesting alcohol and all is well.

What’s for Lunch?

The ‘twin is a brand new way of discovering London/New York – it’s content – a collection of lists of things to do in London/New York – is totally created by bloggers (like me). The twinning aspect of it being a London – New York exclusive thing and the idea is to showcase how both metropolis are so darn similar. Enter C, Metrotwin editor extraordinaire who keeps the Metrotwin house in order, refuses to put raw things in her mouth and is visibly disgusted by porkheadfat.

Porkheadwhat? The legendary pork head entree which has pretty much won them their michelin star. I urged T and C to go for it (which they did) and T couldnt hide his delight and licked his plate clean while C just didn’t get the fatty bits. If my memory serves me right, this thing melts in your mouth with alot of savoury goodness and the crusty outside that tastes rather like a gentle crackling. Oh just staring at the picture again made me wish I ordered it, but I went for the tartare instead.

I wonder if I’ve ever told C that she’s one of the nicest people I’ve met. After about 10 minutes, our conversation somehow directed itself toward food. T described the days when he stuffed himself silly with wine & liver while C described the awesomeness of Tooting curry and how I should carry out a pilgrimage to sample south london spiciness.

By the way, I am glad they put the pigs head back on the menu after it disappeared for a few months. As for my tartare, it was delicately seasoned, while the beef was very fresh – I didn’t quite appreciate the chunky chops instead of it being more finely minced. Perhaps it was just a little under seasoned as it didn’t quite open up my appetite like the one at St Pancras Grand. Tartare is a great dish even if it’s abit unpopular this side of Europe, but in French speaking Europe, its almost a staple. More mincing and more capers required for the Arbutus one unfortunately.

Glory to the Meat ball

T opted to go pork head to toe for this meal and went abit adventurous with the giant meatball which looked like mince pork stuffed with lots of spinach and then wrapped with the intestines. I can’t say for certain how good this was but T was visibly happy with it, grinning cheek to cheek as he cut a small piece for me to taste. It was about now – and after a few whirls of the burgunder – that he started recounting how he’s built up a great collection of old photographs of people he didn’t know. He didn’t go into details of how he managed them , but he did say he found a way to find these guys: stand outside a tube station…. I give the man the benefit of the doubt and blame the alcohol.

Opps, more carafes please, this time is a rather reasonable £13 S.A. Pinotage, oh dear what was I thinking? The pinotage was too oaky and it’s spicy finish was unremarkably failed by a palatte so hollow, it matched the worst merlots ever to be bottled.

Harey Business

I went for gameyness and my mains was norfolk hare with abit of greens and fried polenta. Starting with the mash which I think is either butternut squash or sweet potato – it tasted appetisingly good being all sweet and nutty. The polenta and the pomegranate were a nice touch, if only I could bring myself to love the hare. I’ve had rabbit before but this hare had a pretty unique – if slightly strange – texture: it was soft, but not bouncy soft, it was mushy soft, like meat that’s been in the fridge for too long. It is well cooked and it’s gaminess was like a wild duck or even that of mild mutton. I couldn’t quite get past the mushiness of the meat but taste wise, it was good. Perhaps I should have gone with the bavette of beef and the excellent potato dauphinoise.

Plat du Jour

If you hadn’t noticed, the cuts of meat are all pretty disgusting stuff and nothing epic and prime involved. That’s how Demetre keeps prices down by using cheap cuts. I have to come in with a point here and I will reemphasise that cooking great food does not need superior ingredients and far too many zeroes attached to the bill; if you’re a great chef, you can cook anything and make it fit for the queen. Case in point Marcus Wareing’s egg custard pudding is so good it’s fit for the Queen, key ingredients: egg, sugar and milk.

Food is Passion and while I’ve been making my point, C has ordered the plat du jour which is a godsend of a lamb pie served in what appears to be a le crouset. She appears to be loving her dish and there were no fatty bits in this pot. I didn’t taste so I will not judge. I have a notebook obsession folks, that’s a moleskine in the background, the cream paper, the black leather binding, the pouch at the back page, I think everyone should own at least one in their lifetime. Oh, would somebody kindly design me a LE embossed limited moleskine please? I like mine large and will pay through my nose for it. 

This meal was kindly sponsor by the Malbonster (Thanks Tim)

We didn’t have time for pudding ( I would have gone for the ginger infused treacle tart with ice cream on the side , really delish ) as T and C had to reassume normal duties while I only work half days on fridays.

Overall, this meal wasn’t really my best at Arbutus – some dishes are definite misses if I’m being honest as some of the cuts of meat they use are - how should i put this – very much an acquired taste. Having said that, I still think that wildhoney/arbutus are top notch restaurants and I am glady endorsing the idea of fine cooking on a budget. If you go, you must try the wild duck and the bavette of beef and also the roast cod with fried chicken wings. Forget the poached apple tarte for two ( it’s abit too sour ) , but everything else ( especially the pink float ) should be yummy. 

The Gist of It

Arbutus Official Site
63 Frith Street W1D 3JW 020 7734 4545
Set Lunch £16 , Ala Carte £ 40 (3 courses)

Verdict: Still one of the coolest places to lunch in soho, the staff are ever friendly and so down to earth, michelin stars at these prices are a rarity among the elite, be wary of strange cuts of meat though.

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