Gordon Ramsay restaurants are entering the autumn of their lifecycles. Cycle being the keyword here, with many of his proteges, who used to run his restaurants during their heady years, moving on to bigger and better things. Originally a spin-off from the next-door small plate wonder that was Jason Atherton’s Maze (who has left and will soon open his own, Pollen Street Social in April, ironically near where Goodman Mayfair), this steak restaurant feels like it has been left to rot.

At one point in time, Atherton’s restaurants were home to some of the hottest tables in town. Securing a reservation required weeks of advance notice. And now if you pop open the online booking interface on Ramsay’s website, you’ll see that nearly all the time slots, on any given day, are quite free.

That’s a bad sign. This and the fact that it has been receiving tepid feedback lately makes it doubly bad.

But I have my reasons for visiting – my first to the Grill, I’ve been to Maze – for personal satisfaction, and for the sake of completeness to satisfy my inquisition into the best steak houses in town. The main reason being that Maze Grill is the only restaurant in town which famously sell Prime USDAs from The Creekstone farms; alleged to be the same cuts of beef used by the vaunted Peter Luger steakhouse in NYC.

The ambiance is still vintage Gordon Ramsay – high production values all round – but it felt worryingly aged. The wood now showed visible scratching, the leather had dulled in colour, the cutlery was cloudy silver, the clock was running behind by several minutes, et al. In fact it felt like a top-tier hotel in dire need of a make-over.

But I figured with age, must come a well-honed kitchen able to expertly tackle and tame the broilers they have in there, even with their enigmatic leader now off to start make a name for himself.

Naturally, I took the better half for the usually long, late and lazy Friday lunch. At this point, I’d like to note that the clock approached 3pm, and the room, while sparse, had tables filled with many suits, and many buttoned down, but pressed shirts. I didn’t want to assume that many had come in on expenses (I had not, and I was not in a suit, and I don’t work on Fridays after 12, if you were wondering) , but it did appear that there were few genuine paying customers who were dining purely for pleasure, rather than for business.

Pink Lady apple, pancetta, rocket salad and kimchi dressing, part of set lunch, 2 courses for £21.

The lady started out with this spicy apple salad, that seemed nice enough to start. We didn’t expect much for £21 set lunch anyway.

Peppered onglet, peppercorn sauce, chips and dressed leaves, part of set lunch, 2 courses for £21. Medium Rare.

For £21, this is is a pretty nice deal. Given the onglet was on the small side, probably measuring about 6 inches long, shaped of an oddly familiar thrust. On wood.

With peppercorn sauce and chips (that costs £4 if ordered as a side dish).

It was served closer to medium than medium rare, but we liked it. The charred flavours were on the milder end, not quite the crispy, smoky, seared over the stones of Mordor flavour that is characteristic of Goodman or Hawksmoor, or even the JW steaks at Grovesnor House. It’s a good piece of beef, chewy, but tender, we didn’t ask if it was Irish, Scotch, English or American. If I had to guess, I’d say English, but let’s leave that a mystery. For £21, for steak, chips and a salad and the ‘Gordon Ramsay experience’ , it’s great value for money.

Note the leaking juices on the wooden board, not a good sign.

Time for the real deal.

Steak sauce ‘made by the table’ , £2.50.

What a load of gimmick-ridden and woefully dated rubbish. The sauce was not better than a standard bbq steak sauce out of a bottle, and the gimmick of being able to choose from a five ingredients to ‘tailor’ your sauce to your steak is – for want of a better term – utter bullshite. Chopped garlic, thyme, rosemary, salt and pepper (I think). The point is, this steak sauce tasted horrible.

Creekstone, prime USDA 12oz Ribeye, dry aged 35 days, £42.50.

A little on the pricy side innit?

Yes.

A little on the small side too, considering this is suppose to be 12oz or 340g for you SI-heads. In my humble opinion, I do not believe I was served 340g of beef. It looked too small. Closer to 8oz than 10, let alone 12 as advertised.

Later in the same day, I went to Jack O’Sheas at Selfridges to pick up an equivalent cut of (superb) Prime USDA ribeye, with superb marbling, and for 200g, it only set me back a mere £8. That’s £40 per kilogram.

Here’s a cheeky BBM photo:

Note the ludicriously amazing marbling. Can you believe I only paid £8 for this slab of fine beef?

So extrapolating the numbers, Maze Grill are charging roughly 4x more than O’Sheas, that’s £160/kg. Fuck me. Grade 12 Oz Wagyu (AA6+) at JOS costs £189/kg, and that’s at the very top end of steaks (discounting Japanese Wagyu), so that’s quite a significant mark-up. Sauce and chips are an additionally £2.50 and £4 respectively.

As a benchmark, Goodman sell their USDA’s at a rate of about £60-£70/kg, if I am not mistaken.

Alright, alright, so we have established that Maze Grill charge a hefty premium for beef, but we already know that to eat in a Gordon Ramsay, we should be prepared to pay for the privilege.

Let’s cut into this beast. I asked for medium rare.

Hmm. On inspection, this is closer to medium than medium rare. I think the issue here, is that the steak is too thin. Assuming they’ve got the broiler buzzing at 650C (give or take a couple of hundred degrees), then the steaks aren’t going to spend very long on it, ergo: the difference between medium rare and medium is a matter of seconds.

I personally feel that, this is the reason why steaks should be dictionary (or at least novel) thick to achieve a rounded bloody (or pink) centre. Besides, with beef as high quality as Prime USDAs, they’re going to be tender regardless of how thick you slice ‘em.

Note all the wetness on the board. That’s a bad sign. It is an indication that the steaks were not well-rested before service. The next time you go to Good-Moor, pay attention to the on-plate juicesage. If done correctly, the well-sealed juices, should stay in the meat and only come out when you chew on it. The more the spillage, the worst an experience you’ll have.

The good news is that the steak – like the hanger steak – had a pleasing, if a tad subtle, charred flavour to it. It’s no knock-out, but it was decent enough and passable to be considered delicious. I felt the quality of meat was very high. It had a lovely natural sweetness, fragrant, perhaps of a corn-rich diet the cattle was put on before slaughter. For a steak cooked to medium, it was still very tender.

However, the steak had lost alot of water content, so it didn’t have the orange-burst textures, and it just didn’t sizzle in terms of actual charcoal flavours, as experienced in the Josper equals at Good-Moor.

In fact, it’s worst than the dictionary thick prime USDAs at JW steakhouse, which in hindsight, is probably not such a bad steakhouse afterall. The lobster bearnaise (£12) is absolutely to die for over there.

So a little juxtapositioning here, with the overly cooked steaks in the fore, and the medium rare tag in the background.

We paid £106.32 for this meal, the cost of which includes the usual 12.5%, 1 steak sauce, 1 extra portion of extra chips, two glasses of red and two coffees. Taking away the £30 for the missus’ set meal + wine, that leaves about £70 for my ’12oz’ steak and a glass of wine, which is dastardly.

Look, you know I love my steaks, but I’ve not been so bitterly disappointed with one such as this experience in London before. We are fortunate (thanks in part to Good-Moor) that steakhouses have come of age in London, and are no longer the rarity they once were. Which means, better grilled steaks, higher quality meat, a general higher awareness of the tell-tale signs of bloody good thick cuts, and a general trend of lower prices what with the improving competition. If you venture as far as the Chapters restaurant in Blackheath, you’ll find good Josper-grilled steaks for half the money and twice the flavour. I’m afraid in today’s climate, Maze Grill has fallen behind the competition. It still thinks that NY-inspired steakhouses do not exist in London, effectively ignoring the fact that the competition had caught on a long time ago.

This isn’t 2007 (we have Retina displays now) but everything about this restaurant has stayed firmly rooted in the past age of dated excess. I don’t want to turn this into a whipping session, because I think the steaks were above average, and actually more than edible. The chips were a little soggy, but mostly ok (not dripped in beef dripping nor a triple-cooked genius however) , and I actually really liked the peppercorn sauce, which tasted more like a creamy mushroom soup.

The £21 deal is a megahit and worth every penny, but in the crazy, ever shifting world of London restaurants, it is all relative, and relatively speaking, Maze Grill just doesn’t cut the mustard no more.

I can recommend the £21 onglet, but I don’t recommend you getting curious about the Creekstones. Get a slab from JOS instead, let the beef rest to room temperature, and marinate with oil at least 30mins before cooking. Then searing hot pan (cast iron Le Creuset if applicable), 2 to 2.5 minutes on each side, let it rest for 10 to 15minutes, 25 minutes if you can wait that long, then bit of rock salt, bit of pepper, and I promise you won’t be disappointed.

More photographs on my flickr page.

The Gist of It

Maze Grill
Steak and Gordon Ramsay and why bother. £65pp
10 – 13 Grosvenor Square W1K 6JP
Tel : 020 7495 2211
Tube: Bond Street

Headed for the Exit: The Critical Couple

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As part of our entertainment plans for out of town friends who had drifted into the Smoke for a weekend break. We sold them the idea that London was a treasure trove of brilliant adventures, whether it’d be food, theatre, the arts or history. The rest of the other criteria were suitable met with walks along the river, taking in The Lion King, and a hugely productive trip to Primark. They brought us fantastic Polish sausages, and in an effort not to be outdone, I thought I’d pick a sure-fire British gastro-brand to match their gratitude. This was a chance for me to knock multiple birds with the same stone, take them to a pub, that served Brit food, plus a blog post (this one) for me.

So off we went to The Warrington in Maida Vale (which is also home to a fantastic wine merchant called The Winery, mainly for German Spätburgunders and Rieslings), one of Gordon Ramsay’s pubs with a dining room. I especially took to the intricate interior, witchery and goth, exaggerated details that were apparently borrowed from 19th seafaring ships. This building was at one time, a plush brothel in the late 1800′s. Apparently, the use of ‘Randy’ to describe libertine behaviour came about from the antics occuring at the Warrington during that time; it was situation just off randy Randolph Crescent.

The staircase was epic like something air-lifted from a major ocean liner, it leads upstairs to a typically Ramsay-esque, stiffy dining room for ‘serious’ foodies. Our guests were not really into clenching their butt cheeks, and besides, they were more intrigued with the whole malark surrounding pub grub, so we elected to stay downstairs and ordered from The Bar Menu.

On this Friday night, the neighbours poured life into the Warrington, coupled with the spooky atmosphere, it was like a Pirates theme night. Vivaciously arggh…!

We started our private soirée with a selection of fine British ales (well, bottled beer anyway, Meantime Chocolate beer and Innis & Gunn’s awesome rum cask aged brew) paired with honey and mustard baby sausages (£4.00) , which were nicely cooked but no match for the sausages they brought over with them.

Pork crackling with apple sauce, £2.50.

These were horrible. It was so tough, that when I bit into them, I felt the equivalent of an earthquake going off in my skull. I felt embarrassed these were so bad, citing to our guests that crackling in this country were usually much better and were not supposed to be jawbreakers.

I could have sworn sabotage, as my curry chips failed to turn up on the table.

Pork Pie, £3.50

At least the buttery pastry was good, so all three bar snacks were nibbled by me, but were left untouched by the rest of the table. Sigh. British food well beaten at this point.

The Warrington burger £12.00.

The better half indulged in the beef burger, served on a wooden board with dripping fat chips. Cooked absolutely spot on, bloody and beefy, while a good effort, it won’t put a dent on the sterling ‘British’ burgers such as Lord Byron’s or Hawksmoor. We enjoyed the beefy patty nonetheless.

What do you make of the photograph? It is actually an emulation of something from the Food by Mark Portfolio. Don’t tell him I stole his idea.

Breaded coley pieces with chips and tartare £8.95.

Six points for styling, two for miniscule portions and minus sixty nine for not including some mushy peas. A pub that doesn’t even do decent fish and chips… sigh.

Lamb leg steak with spinach, chips and rosemary sauce £15.50.

As per usual, I ordered the most expensive item on the menu, but was woefully disappointed with the gummy and rubbery excuse of a lamb steak. It threatened many times to turn into flying latex as I struggled with dear life to cut into the piece of meat. Mein gott, at least tenderize the damn meat, man.

We paid £91.74 for five people, food plus two pints per person.

This isn’t a negative review, I assure you, because we left the pub as five merry persons, happier than when we arrived. The atmosphere is conducive to cheekiness, staff are the friendliest of chappies this side of North London (EDIT: By North I meant West) , and the buzz is so excellent that everytime you pop upstairs, pass the dining room, to visit the loo, you are tempted to feel pity for the patrons in the adults only restaurant, who one assumes, can only endure so much butt clenching. Wahey wahey, who am I to pre-judge when I haven’t visited the Restaurant which is meant to be rather decent (see b’low) though. Back downstairs, I think it’s a nice pub, the beer list alone is worth the visit (not that I’m the alexpert), which I suppose is the point. Plus it is GRH, so quality is at least assured… well.

Better drinking downstairs, probably better food upstairs.

The Gist.

The Warrington Bar
British, £20pp
93 Warrington Crescent W9 1EH
T: 020 7592 7960
Underground : Maida Vale

Grab your fork! Sexton for The Standard ; A girl has to eat for A Girl Has To Eat ; Tehbus for A Rather Unusual Chinaman ; Mimi for Meemalee’s Kitchen ; Rayner for The Observer.

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Whatever reservations I may have about the man and his empire, I respect El Gordo’s achievements above all and can’t help but admire the sheer talent that has passed through his stables. Ramsay’s first class have all but graduated, they now lead their own macaron-winning ventures, and whose names are probably as brand-worthy as Gordon’s. Undoubtedly the leading lady of the pack is the straight talking, effervescent character that is Angela Hartnett. Slogging it out through the years and the ranks across Ramsay restaurants from the Dizzy Lizzy days at Aubergine in the nineties, to sharing a kitchen with Marcus Wareing and through the Connaught years.

We all know her in some way via her faceted TV appearances, and I’ve always taken to her no-shit attitude, I’m a total Angela fan. Fall 2010, it is time for Angela to finally spread her wings, with the recent good news that Angela has bought out GR’s stake to take the helm at Murano. The news is significant to York & Albany, since the boutique hotel cum serious but laid back restaurant that lies on the fringes of Camden and Regent’s Park, is directed by Hartnett. Only until the end of the year, and after that, I guess Colin Buchan – who is the current head chef – will assume outright leadership.

So the rationale for my visit to Y&A – which has no obvious public transport route, aside from a brisk walk from Camden Town – to try it while the menu still carries Angela’s fingerprint. The décor is nothing short of Bauhaus brilliance. Marble and double height ceilings, wrapped in juicy natural light, thanks to the multi-windowed walls. As you’d expect from Ramsay restaurants, Y&A is an opulent yet comforting design, giving out a whimper of elegance. We were seated in the dining room firstly, which when full, seemed stressful, though the missus had already fallen in love with the front room/lounge area as we walked in. We gleefully switched to the more serene environs, and slinked into the large cushy chairs which were a little too high for the knee-hitting coffee table.

I drank a glass of suave (£5.50) and the missus, the Purple Haze (£5). As per usual, she opted for the hugely affordable set lunch competitively priced at £18/£21for 2/3 courses… and I went a la carte.

Starters

From the set menu: Mussel, cider and fennel soup, smoked garlic butter.

The foamy soup was brisk, with the discerning taste of the sea, interestingly, the cider had resulted in a surprising flavour of pickled fennel, dare I say, like a kimchi without the spice. Can’t say the missus was entirely convinced of this soup, but I thought the soured taste was an intriguing and a good twist.

Great sourdough – white and brown – to rival St John’s.

A la Carte : Salsify velouté, frog’s legs, pancetta, garlic chips £9

I naively assumed that only the Chinese eat frog’s legs, while the Japanese eat their beating hearts, but evidently so do the Italians. Ordering this was a necessity. Being Chinese, I’m more than acquainted with frog legs – like spring chicken.

Ahh… the trademark pour-it-on wowness, a gimmick oft experienced in Ramsays – still a charmer. The coffee coloured salsify veloute is simply regal, releasing hints of flavour as it hits the legs, mmm, indeed just like spring chicken wings. Wonderful, warming cappuccino-like soup, expertly balanced, the liquid tastes as elegant as it appears. For texture, crispy fried garlic chips slowly turned soggy like cornflakes in the soup, and for flavour, the pancetta and I surmise olive oil, added a viscous finish to the hugely satisfying mouthfeel. I loved this.

Mains

From the set: Roasted corn-fed chicken, parsnip cream, sprouting broccoli, red wine jus.

With this dish, there was little doubt that the Y&A kitchen were at the top of their game – I felt the cooking was superb. This was a chicken so well roasted, that even Uncle Lim would be proud. Slithery, juicy, and the softest pairs of breast my lips have ever licked. The skin was glazed with a sort of caramalised syrup, perhaps this was the red wine jus, adding much needed, stocky flavour. Simple yes, and for chicken – dazzling.

A la Carte: Baked lemon sole, chorizo purée, poached octopus, warm anchovy vinaigrette, chilli, lemon £20

At first, I worried about a chorizo puree, that it might be an overpowering, a blinding mush which could mute the dish – but not this one; this one was delicately deployed, and is whipped as light as air. A citrus vinaigrette completed the colourful plate, with smoky flavours perhaps from the anchovies, and the chorizo. Judging by the redness, the slices of chorizo on the plate are the finest Iberico. Oh gosh.. the octopus.. it melts..it just melts…! It seems as if it had been poached ever so gently, or maybe injected with a disintegrating potion, whatever the case, the slithering texture was rapturous. The overriding theme to this dish seemed to be one of lightness. The fleeting textures, and flirtatious flavours chipped away at the palate, enticing and entertaining.

Finally, the fish itself was bang on the money, baked only ever so slightly under, with just enough natural juice to maintain the supple, flaky textures. I mopped up every last drop of the juice with the excellent sourdough, sending back a spotless plate as a compliment to the chef.

And to finish..

From the set: White chocolate brulee, Victoria plums.

A wobbly pannacotta (rather than a sugar topped custard), flavours of sugar, butter and milk balanced against some lovely caramlised plums. Great, long finish.

We finished with two coffees, and looked out the window and gazed into the distance of Regent’s Park. Strangely I felt a sense of calm, a rare feeling to come away from a London restaurant, which are usually turbulent. The final bill was £70.88, pretty good value really. In the two years York & Albany has stayed opened, it has enjoyed a sleuth of positive reviews, and I think it deserves the props. Most recently, Jay chose to dine here, to soothe his soul, after his mum’s passing, writing a heartfelt account of his experience. I offer my condolences, Jay and raise my glass to Claire.

Cooking is feminine and on point, flamboyance is allowed to trickle through, resulting in food that offers a sense of reprieve. I really enjoyed the lunch, and wouldn’t mind returning, I hear good things about the ten rooms upstairs (sans porn but wifi enabled), and of a sterling breakfast. Lately I’ve developed this nutty habit of looking to the choice of flooring to gleam whatever personality behind a restaurant, and Y&A has chosen to be finished with unpolished wood throughout: Naked, solid and weathered. And loved.

Put it on yer list.

The Gist.

York & Albany
British/Italian, £45pp
127-129 Parkway NW1 7PS
Tel: 020 7388 3344
Underground : Camden Town

Before Angela, after Gordon: Jay Rayner ; The Hardens ; Dave Sexton ; G.Coren ; No Red Meat ; Laissez Fare

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There was a time when Gordon Ramsay was the darling of the nation, the once protege who displaced his mentor, then the king of British gastronomy, Marco Pierre White. Like his mentor, he has achieved three stars and so much more. I remember my first brush with Gordon Ramsay food, albeit indirectly. It was on a Singapore Airlines flight to London, Gordon as a consultant for the airline’s menu. I remember being impressed then with his credentials, late thirties and already a qualified genius of his craft. And I still respect Gordon Ramsay for what he has achieved.

Having attained international fame, he went on to build an empire that employes thousands across his multitude of restaurants around the world (12 UK, 2 Oz, 4 US, 5 Europe, 1 Middle East, 1 Asia, 1 Africa). The mind boggles with the commercial rampage, which I guess has contributed to the critical reception today. He has grown to the point where his stars are not a direct result from the flash of his pan per se, least not in the same way as say Francesco Mazzei is vying for one. One wonders if he still cooks in the kitchens of his restaurants. The man’s reputation has been dented, resulting in reports of massive losses incurred over the last few years, and perhaps most damagingly, Claridge’s losing a star. Ah but at the same time, it is precisely why 2010 should be the most exciting of times to dine at a Gordon Ramsay. What will their response be I wonder? Will it be all guns blazing, career on the line fight to win back the fans by rehashing their corporately tainted clinical cooking with a sense of passion, or would they simply fade into obscurity becoming a tired, overly complex franchise, waiting to be unravelled by Richard Caring? Whatever the case, Team Gordon would need to paddle twice if not thrice as hard to avoid sinking the ship which has taken on more than it should.

This Pétrus is not the old Pétrus because technically speaking, Pétrus still exists today, at the Berkeley hotel. Its chef – Marcus Wareing – still runs the restaurant today (unsurprisingly rechristening it Marcus Wareing at the Berkeley) and about the only change is in name, and maybe Wareing’s feelings toward his former mentor. It was a very public separation between master and apprentice, once the dynamic duo spearheading the British gastrocrown, but which turned into bitter rivalry. The name belongs to Gordon Ramsay and he had always vowed to re-open another Pétrus. The day is now. This rebirth of sorts coincides with so many things derailing in Ramsay’s empire at the moment, one does wonder if it is indeed the right move to add even more to his plate. He is backed into a corner now, and somehow I get the feeling that he is fighting back, and getting back to the real reason why he is in the business of cooking – to cook great food. As an observer, I view Pétrus as a key battle. A must-win. No surprise then, that all the best members of the Ramsay’s council have assembled to re-ignite the brand. Jean-Philippe Susilovic leads the front of house with his recognisable charm, and of course Mark Askew – Executive chef of Ramsay’s empire – is in charge of overseeing proceedings in the kitchens.

Saturday lunch in the cordial company of Oliver, Magnus and David. As you would expect from Gordon Ramsay restaurants, a flurry of complimentary amuse bouches were the first order of the day.

Appetizers came in the form of popcorns, and the amuse bouche was a warm onion veloute to grease the palate. As one would expect, the room has an understated allure. The centre-piece of the restaurant is a tubular glass design which doubles as a wine storage unit. Red velvet is plastered across the walls, reminiscent of the Berkeley restaurant, save for a distinct lack of leather. Large windows on either side pour in heaps of sunshine. For wine, we chose an 2007 Austrian White. Made from a blend of riesling and pinot blanc (if I am not mistaken), a lighter style with citrus hints (which I thought tasted like a fluttery orange zest) and a sizzling acidity that gently massaged the tip of my tongue.

As it was lunch service, my dining companions chose the amazingly affordable set lunch, three courses for £25, the price includes two choices from the set menu, and pudding is picked from the a la carte as well as all the accompanying freebies. I went for the a la carte, £55, because I’m greedy.

Starters : Roasted langoustine tails with watercress soup and confit potato

The crustaceans were served naked at first, and I noticed the exquisite bronze colour, as well as it’s efficient styling. The waitress then poured out the watercress, masterfully avoiding any drops on the shellfish, just like the old Petrus then. As expected, the soup carried the distinct peppery edge of watercress, herby and spicy as it went down. The langoustines were fresh, juicy and had a muscular bite to it – incredibly sweet, and which balanced well against the lively soup. Effortlessly easy to digest, I liked this.

Main courses : Roasted beef fillet with braised shin, baked celeriac and Barolo sauce

For my mains, it was a toss up between the beef or the baked lobster, but since I had already had a seafood starter, I opted for the bovine. I asked for it medium rare, and it was cooked perfectly so, oh yes, very well cooked piece of meat – the juices well retained as every bite was soaking wet. As it was fillet, what it lacked in natural flavour was made up for with the accompanying components. Firstly, a densely braised shin of beef, delicately soft with a syrupy caramelised sauce, and on the side a well whipped, if slightly blasé choice of celeraic puree. The red wine sauce seemed a little too runny, it looked as if olive oil was left in the mix as well for effect. Well cooked but it was a little boring. Not quite world beating.

And so that was that, at intermission, much appreciated freebies came our way in the form of a mini faux ice cream cone, with a tiny scoop of lemon and mascarpone – it was amazingly zesty, real palate cleanser this was.

To finish, I went for the coffee soup with a hazelnut financier.

And we have a winner. Warm coffee, richly aromatic, against a beautiful backdrop of superb hazelnut ice cream and the crunch of the wafer. The hazelnut ice cream in particularly was accomplished. I loved this.

Petit fours were a selection of chocolate and almonds, as well as a theatrical frozen lollipop served with sublimating dry ice – a bracing finish.

Our bill came to £361, that’s four £25 set lunches, two bottles of wine, four glasses of aperitifs, two desert wines, 2 coffees and my £55 ala carte. The full whack would have set me back £65 for five courses. Reasonable if pricy, however not prohibitively so as the £25 set lunch is admittedly affordable. I was under no illusions. As soon as I finished licking the last drops of my coffee soup, I was convinced that Gordon Ramsay was going to win another star. It is the right timing to open after all, nearly ten months for the inspectors to make up their mind. The space was luxurious, the service a finely balanced act of personable professionalism (would you expect otherwise from J-P?), an affordable wine list and food impossibly prepared to the highest order. Mr Susilovic gave us a tour of the kitchen before we left, and while there, we met the head chef Sean Burbidge… as well as Mark Askew, whom I was told would be spending more time at Petrus than at No.68 over the next few months. A three starred chef overseeing the kitchen, no wonder food was so clinical. There could not be a better time to visit Pétrus than in its incubating months.

In spite of this, I still had my reservations about the restaurant, particularly its future. What troubled me was not because there was anything wrong with the food, in fact far from it. As I said, food was exceptionally cooked, if not perfectly so. And therein was the problem : Formula. Let’s face it, Michelin restaurants – even if it is a set of hazy criteria – can be hazily identified. Like his mentor, Gordon has perfected this road to stardom, and the question is do we really need yet another? It was the quintessential michelin-standard meal. Unimpressionable, impersonal and dare I say out of date. I’d eaten this several times before, oft replicated style of haute cuisine that at some point, one has to wonder – enough with the ponce man, surprise me won’t you. I’m not a hater, I’m just calling it as I see it. With the saturation of food media (and blogs), I fear that the average restaurant collector (that would be me) is a much more enlightened man. I feel that Gordon Ramsay’s fluffy French food has lost its competitive sheen, and perhaps this might be the reason for his recent financial woes. In the face of younger, hungrier chefs such as Mazzei, Van de Horst and to a certain extend Loubet sharing the same base of customers in London, I’m not sure Gordon’s brand has the power to hold my attention anymore. The aforementioned chefs just seem to deliver with so much more clarity, and for those in the know, the impending arrival of Nuno Mendes’ Viajante in the trendier, edgier East End. This was a chance for the Ramsay team to reboot the brand, and take the opportunity to expand their repertoire and to bring a new dynamic to the ever changing landscape of restaurants in London. Instead a safer route was chosen, too much was too familiar. Has Gordon Ramsay still got it? If you like the traditional idea of wining and dining, then yes of course he does, Mark Askew does have three michelin stars after all. Here’s the kicker: I would happily spend £25 for the prudent elegance, but I would not be compelled to spend another £55 at Pétrus. Prix Fixe anyone?

Note: Have a look on Magnus’ flickr stream to see what the set lunch looks like. There are reports that the price of the set lunch is not going to stay at £25 for long.

The Gist of it

Petrus official site £65 ala carte ; £25 set lunch
1 Kinnerton Street SW1X 8EA
Tel: 020 7592 1609
Tube: Knightsbridge

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In the searing heat of the 2006 summer, Jennie Bond presented the first episodes of the Great British Menu. The premise was cook-off between some of the best chefs in the country to decide who would cook for the Queen’s 80th birthday bash. It doubled as a campaign to promote what was then, a rather low view on British haute cuisine. Back then, I was but a wide eyed boy mesmerised by the unfolding glamorous world of gifted men of sharp tastebuds and in command of ultra fresh ingredients.

The pudding that made it to the Queen’s table wasn’t a molecular gastronomical concoction dreamed, instead it was a custard tart Marcus’ mum made when he was a child. I watched his intense concentration in baking that tart on TV and just the mere sight of the finished product had me salivating. I have nothing but immense respect for Mr Wareing, the perfectionist, the disciplinarian, the first Ramsay Protégé and abit of a personal cooking god for me. Three years later, with but a grain of sand’s worth of gastronomical knowledge, I am upon the footsteps of Wareing temple at Berkeley Hotel, the site formerly of Petrus and I am here to eat a perfect egg custard tart.

Heels on, Ladies

I am shaking as I enter this shrine. Southport’s finest export has been abit of a superhero to me and I think the cooking show did nothing but enhance his reputation as a master of his craft. As of writing, the newly revised ’09 Red Guide re-confirmed his two stars status.

I landed on a rather busy late Friday Lunch, having just got out of work in time, catch the right train to cross four zones to get to the heart of Knightsbridge. Even though, I actually just live about 15 minutes down the road. Following my pocket busting meal at The Square, I thought I’d be sensible and not blow my load on yet another £ 75.00 a la carte.

£ 35.00 a pop for a set lunch is rather hefty, but given its 2 star status, we’ll see how justified that price tag really is.

I must say, I felt a little out of place as I was ruffled feathers next to the all too dapper velvet and satin surroundings. Passing through the heavy doors of the Berkerley, I am greeted by a hotel lobby with far too much polished marble and carpets so thick, it feels like you’re walking on a bed of garfields. Preceding the restaurant doors is a lounge area whose clientele included the odd Russia’s supermodel. Perhaps I should have waited till I dropped my Paul Smiths before making my acquaintance here?

As I reached the restaurant’s closed doors -thick frosted glass- I could feel the buzz emanating from behind them. I stole a peek from between the glass and saw shades of silk ties, red nails and the sound of glass chinking. I took a deep breathe and duly practiced my own pretensitivities (clearly, a word invented by me) with the receptionist…

The set menu option means that I can afford myself a nice glass of something-something. Though I must say Mr Wareing, your wine list is not quite recession friendly, £13 for a glass of American pinot? £11 for a Sicilian red, so hollow in the centre of the palette, I could have mistaken it for an Australian Merlot. Surely you can do better than that Marcus? I regretted my decision to go mafia style with my choice of red. Blech.

Before I could even say sparkling, the waiter comes around with a large trolley of bubbly, to which I duly declined citing that my application for a government bail out was still pending approval from Mr Darling’s eyebrows. Canapes were then hastily rushed to my table by a team of well dressed men to which this act , one suspects, has been rehearsed too many times. They were in the form of triangular parcels, salty and fishy taramasala paste on a biscuity base; accompanied by crispy dried toast and a garlic cream cheese relish. Oh yeah, it tasted alright, it’s free, it’s a nice touch and I cant complain.

Rebeginning

Now is an appropriate time to dwell abit on service. The staff are mindful, chirpy and professional. I might even add, a cut above the industry because it’s like they were put through intensive ‘The fine art of small talk’ seminars because their conversations were friendly and strangely comforting. They made the rather imposing red & black walls, with shimmering chandeliers and 30’s glamour seem like a visit to my pou-pou’s (Nan’s).

In other words, right at home.

My waiter was a Johny Wilko lookalike, all smiles and he brought me a shot of tomato veloute to get things rolling. ‘Good for the tummy’ He exclaims. Like a savoury espresso, the foamy, creamy and rich soup did indeed warm me up inside and a soup which I could have easily mistaken it to be pumpkin or even carrot for it tasted sweeter and meatier and was more orange than red.

Beginning

I could just say that Petrus is a beautiful restaurant. Or I could say that Marcus Wareing’s has an exquisite bar, glowing mirrors, the leather and black woods bouncing off those incandescent reflections. The décor included white grills for windows and also had long wall length mirrors. Leather red seats one with arm rests and the other without, this is gentlemen club circa Sherlock Holmes. The centre piece of the restaurant is a chest of drawers onto which a large glass box sits, exposing the puds. The drawers are functional of course, it’s for cutlery.

Amidst all the gawking, I somehow forgot to take home a copy of what I ate, so I can’t quite remember the exact descriptions of the dishes (you will forgive me won’t you?). Starters was a langoustine soup, with parcels of lobster wrapped with tomato and vanilla. Accompanying the lobster were three tiny dollops of ricotta cheese. How did I know these things were hiding in the soup? Well that’s because those things were exposed before the waiter poured the soup in.

Aromas, I could smell the langoustine rising from the soup, muddy and salty and all the delights of the sea. The soup had the texture of light single cream and it was full of langoustine flavour. It was also reminiscent of dried shrimps and sea salt. Moving on to the meaty parcels – There was a distinct aftertaste of lobster wrapped with flavours of caramelised sweet onion. You will forgive me for this vague description but, it tasted abit Chinese to me. I’m almost tempted to say that it tasted like sweetened bacon ( I just said it ). Ricotta melted in the mouth with a rather appetising graininess and the together with the sandy and muddy langoustine seafood flavours, it was quite a light way to start a meal. I liked it, but wasn’t entirely over the moon, the portion was a little dinky if I do say so and I was feeling emptier than usual after plate one.

A curry infusion

The Berkerley is in a rather odd location. It straddles between Hyde Park Corner and Knightsbridge, they advertise themselves as being in Knightsbridge, but really they are only just within the exclusive post code. I mean, they are so far beyond Harvey Nicks and even further beyond One o One that they are dangerously close to the Wellington Arch.

For mains: slow roasted mutton with mustard sauce, and curly kale on the side.

The curly kale is definitely infused with curry powder. The accompanying fried puffs were battered, airy and floury and tasted rather like an Indian roti. This dish would not be out of place in Benares ( I recall having the lamb fillet which is quite close to this one). Murtabak, curry mutton and a lot of Anglo-Indian fusion going on in this dish. I was expecting to taste a lot of mutton flavour sealed in to the slow roast, but it was not the case. It was frankly disappointing in this department. It tasted more like a smoked mutton, the meat was more rare than pink, it did not wow and for a 2 star restaurant, the cooking is abit of a downer – it tasted good, don’t get me wrong – but it certainly was not special.

Maybe he was gunning for natural flavours and everything else around the meat to spice the dish – but it just wasn’t all that exciting. Perhaps it’s the cut of the meat, it did carry the gamey sickly savouriness of mutton, but I can have the same sort of dish for half the price along Edgeware road.

Seriously Indian inspired, small portion and was not filling, this dish was easy to eat, but in the end it did not wow.

I came, I saw, I ate the custard pudding

Graduating from the Ramsay entourage after nearly 15 years in Gordon’s shadow, I can see why Marcus confidently stepped out of it. This restaurant is far better than the other lauded Ramsay rising star, Maze. The food here is far subtler and the cooking is a cut above Jason’s, bearing in mind I’m comparing a set lunch against a full a la carte at Jasons’. Pre-dresser: A passion fruit jelly sorbet, I heard the waiter utter vodka as well. This trifle of a cheesecake in a shot glass had a cold and sharp passion fruit that helped to cleanse the palette and wake me up from zombie lunch daze. I can only assume that a lychee sorbet sits atop the jelly. There it was, after I waived away the cheese trolley ( £10.00 supplement ) , it finally landed on my table, three years of anticipation had ended. Baked Egg custard tart, with strawberry jelly and strawberry swirl ice cream.

I’m contemplating to take my time with this, to eek out abit of appetite from you, and to just appreciate the way it looks. It is simply beautiful, the surrealistic golden hued triangle of cold custard had refracted red light from the jelly bouncing off it’s cinnamon crusted exterior and it glowed like I was staring at the Holy Grail from Indiana Jones. I can wait no longer! I must dive in ….

… oh dear, I knew it.

Something this dream-like could only taste like the best damn, custard pudding I have ever had. No, no it’s the best damn pudding I have ever had. The custard is cold and the cinnamon providing a herby edge to the vanilla taste. The strawberry is a dream of candied jam and jelly, and gave way to an interesting contrast to the richness of the custard. The custard was a full flavour of eggyness (and I’m Chinese, so I know my egg tarts) this was so good it could rival, if not better the best kept secret Cantonese dim sum recipes in Hong Kong.

This is the best finish I’ve had in recent memory and the pudding alone is worth the price of entry. I could not hide my appreciation for the pud. The waiter told me that Marcus did not intend this pudding to be as popular, nay, as legendary as it is now. Apparently, he says that they took it off the menu a few months ago, only to find disgruntled returning diners yearning for the sweet finish.

Deliverance

Speaking again on the cooking, I didn’t think it was brilliant. Yes, some people might argue that ‘it’s just a set lunch’, so let’s isolate that argument and limit it to just the roasting of the mutton. Given the prowess of the kitchen, it was merely ordinary. One needn’t special ingredients to make food taste wonderful, you just need to cook it well. A perfect example of which is the set lunch at Hibiscus – now newly recrowned with 2 stars – £25, much cheaper and on my visit, the cooking there was so far beyond Marcus Wareing’s that it was out in the stratosphere. There you go, comparing like for like. As for the other 2 star place I went to, The Square – absolutely no comparison, Phil’s kitchen is (currently) a lot better than Marcus’, in fact if I were to rank them, I’d say Phil and Claude are about a tie, Marcus trailing behind, not far but not close either.

Ah, except Marcus has a trump card you see, and that trump card is called the Baked Egg Custard tart. May Marcus keep it on his menu for as long as he still runs restaurants because I have a feeling it is not just a defining moment in his illustrious career, it may even become a symbol for the re-emergence of British cuisine altogether.

Marcus Wareing at The Berkeley, Official site
Wilton Place SW1X 7RL (0)20 7235 1200 Knightsbridge Tube
£ 75.00 ala carte, £ 35.00 set lunch

Verdict: Good, very good but not great. Except for pudding which was so good, it made me spew all kinds of emotive words.

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Gordon Ramsay looms over British cooking like a big bad shadow. He owns no less than ten restaurants (in the UK) under his label and his formidable marketing machine is used extensively to turn those restaurants into brand names in their own right. All that gloss is seemingly a way of guaranteeing a quality fine dining experience, albeit one that feels manufactured (aren’t they all to some extent?) . My visit to Maze was not based on Gordon’s merit alone, rather I was drawn to the man in the kitchen, Jason Atherton. He has gained a cult status since opening Maze and I had to find out just how creative his unique taster menu really was.

Will the real Gordon Ramsay please stand up?

When Maze launched a few years ago, it quickly became the darling of the culinary elite, bagging several awards and winning a Michelin star along the way. Much of the credit is attributed to the skill of chef Jason Atherton. Having become the first British chef to complete a stint in the kitchen of El Bulli (only one of the best in the world) , he has since worked magic at Maze in which his food is described as a mix of french inspiration seasoned with flashes of asian brilliance.

Credentials aside, what really attracted me to this place ( no, I do not randomly show up to michelin star restaurants ) is his taster menu, almost (dare I say it) tapas style mini-courses which let you sample more stuff in one sitting. I think that makes me sound a greedy bugger but I just love variety.

Souled out

Whizzing past the stone & brick exterior in the heart of the old Bond Street, Maze feels rather like an ultra chic 80′s style posh hotel lounge. Ok, maybe that’s abit harsh. The decor is squeaky clean with robust woods for furniture & floors and a clientele of business types in fine-cut bespokes, the odd honeymooning couple and a number of tables filled by trophy wives settling for a ‘quick lunch’ possibly after an exhaustive morning of shopping and manicure…. on second thought, it is a 80′s style hotel lounge.

Not that this is criticism (maybe it is) but that’s the problem when you put big budget advertising vehicles behind a restaurant; everything feels as if it’s a cog in the larger corporate wheel, that the chef’s personality is very much suppressed. The result of which, is a robotic and soulless dining space. Yes it’s admirable watching the well-choreographed staff ( they have a dedicated card machine handler, whose job is to ‘take payment’. Did I mention she’s a leggy blonde who can easily pass for a Karen Mulder lookalike? ) put in the hard work to ensure the smallest details are not missed but this is also the result of growing too big. Rustic ,passion & colour is replaced with refined, robust & dependability.

At the end of the day, it’s food we’re talking about here and its suppose to be full of life & vigour and most importantly, enjoyable. My hope is that the industry does not forget why one loves food and is passionate about cooking, don’t let pretention kill it. Good food is a harmony of flavours , if you overdo it, its no longer good.

Four recommended

Alright, so pretention killed the cat, but we haven’t touched on the subject matter yet: Is the food any good? Well, let’s elaborate on how the menu works. The waitress advised me to pick two dishes from the light (starter) section and another two from the heavier (mains) section. It’s quite clear the starter section is meant to be a light start being that it is a selection of veloutes , foie gras, the odd seafood and veges. The mains consists of a recognisable cast: cod paired with iberico, a rather interesting sounding venison in chocolate sauce and a seemingly wintery rack of lamb with shepherd’s pie ( I am delighted to see British cooking on the menu) . Have a look at the menu here.

I’ll point out the excellent service, I will expect no less from a Gordon Ramsay establishment, my waiter was forward, friendly, professional and unpretentious. She had a breezy charm and was excellent in fueling my appetite while explaining what each dish was all about. I have to say, at first, I was expecting an attitude to match it’s intimidating atmosphere, but I was pleasantly surprised. She actually got me excited about the food and you could clearly tell, she believed in the food and what the kitchen produced. So top marks on service and character. Am I excited so far? Yes.

Jellied Bread

The first course is assiette of sandwiches, ‘BLT’ and croque monsieur. Ok, translation it’s a sandwich which has been turned into a jelly. The Bacon, in the form of large chunks afloat a creme fraiche-like mousse, all sits on top of a savoury onion jelly foundation, which is suppose to represent the bread. The Lettuce is pureed and poured over it, all of which is served in a cocktail glass ( yes, its a sarnie in a glass). Oh, it’s fresh. The first hit of the mousse & the jelly produced a tangy edge in which I suspect that’s where the Tomato hides. The lettuce soup is very appetising and the varying degrees of sour from the different layers is balanced by the saltiness of the bacon. This gave way to a heady sensation which left my taste buds tingling. The cool crispness of the jelly really made this one special and the lettuce puree was a star. It’s certainly unique and a gamble that’s worked.

So that’s one part of the ‘assiette’. The other part of the set is the croque monsieur. Yup, the ham tasted spot on, the melting cheese was great and the grilled bread, crunchy exterior and buttery soft interior was umami rich. It was just a damn good ham and cheese finger. But is it world shaking? No. I’ve had better on the streets of Paris for significantly less money and five times the portion. Having said that, it worked well as a dish.

Bread Soup

I changed my mind last minute for my other starter. I initially wanted scallops ( its a michelin establish, gotta have great ingredients) , but I’m a sucker for gimmicks and unique selling points. Instead I settled for the two texture white asparagus, ‘two hour egg’, smoked mussels and brown bread velouté . Ok so I had jellied bread at first, now the bread’s been made into a sauce. Cool. I was more interested in the two hour egg as I’m told the egg white turns into something mystical after being cooked for two hours.

The bread veloute had a distinctly sour flavour (perhaps it was sour dough… too obvious?) , the highlight was definitely the smoked mussels which were beautifully smoky and of great texture. I was utterly disappointed with the egg though. I had high expectations of this dish being a kind of nirvanic slow cooked flavourful adventure, but it was abit of an anticlimax. The egg yolk, just tastes like boiled egg apart from it being powdery. The egg white was reduced to a brownish mushy paste which was a little on the bitter side, but mostly it drowned in comparison to the rather strong bread veloute. The crunchy asparagus was bland. Not much more that I can say to that.

Overall, this dish was delicate. All the flavours were subtle and felt as if it had been matured for a long time. However, I did notice a very good aftertaste, it was a strange after-eating goodness, perhaps because of the combo of egg, mussels and bread finally coming together. Maybe I should have chewed my food longer, but it was too little too late when the fireworks came on.

Even if it was mild fireworks.

Frozen ham

Roasted organic Shetland cod with onion soubise, confit cod tongue, French onion velouté and frozen Iberico. This was the one dish which I thought stood out from the menu, the frozen ham in particular. Cod and Iberico, both of which are ingredients that I love, wrapped around an onion soup, made for an excellent marriage of flavours and topped off with an asparagus stem and two small pieces of cod tongue.

As expected, the fish is just on the right side of cooked and the specks of shavings on the plate are actually the frozen iberico. Granted its abit gimmicky, but a nice subtle touch. The fish depends on the onion reduction as well as the sweet onion soubise for flavour; It works well and there are also subtle hints of white pepper which lifts the entire flavour profile. The cod tongues had a firm texture, but was easily chewable and tasted abit more dominant that the fish itself. So far so great.

Just on its own, the fish and onions are delicate. Coupled with the potato puree with ham shavings, served on the side, it made this dish an absolute godsend. I suspect the mash is heavily seasoned in order to compliment the delicate fish, spooning up all the individual parts gave rise to a forward flavour, appetising due to the mash, fragrant because of the fish and colourfully enhanced by the onions and white pepper. The ham rounded everything off perfectly. In summation, this dish was gracefully mellow and just like the two hour egg, it too had an excellent aftertaste, which I think, was a consequence of the ham. I was really impressed by this. Good solid cooking.

I tell porkies

Rare breed Sussex pork ‘Head to Toe’. This came highly recommended. She told me I had to try this, and so I did. There are three elements to this dish, two of them come on the first plate. On the left are the pork cheeks resting on top of a whipped apple puree and topped with lentils. I’m not a big fan of lentils, I feel as if they were used to cover up natural flavours, as it’s done so in this case. However, having said that (and having pushed the lentils to one side) , the cheeks were fantastic, supremely soft and matched beautifully with the rich apple puree it sat on. Lovely. The fruitiness of the puree played a good contrast to the flavour of the cheeks.

On the right is pork belly in gravy. This was again very good, nicely roasted, pork belly can be quite a strong taste & smell ( verging on stinky to some) , and this was no exception. However, the gravy mellowed it out but honestly speaking it didnt blow my mind. Good, but so is my mum’s pork belly roast.

The third element are the ‘toes’. At first, I couldn’t quite place this. It tasted of a fried cake consisting of a floury filling. It’s very smooth and easy to eat, yet there’s this strange texture, bouncy but then cakey all at the same time (What is that I wonder?) . The topping tasted of a cheesy, slighty salty concoction of sorts which worked well with the flavour of the cake.

Gosh it was really bugging me so I turned to the ever so helpful waitress who told me that the cake were the trotters. Ah! Hence, the cakey and bouncy texture. The topping was indeed a concoction of sorts being capers, pepper, cheese and a host of other ingredients. Think tartare but without the raw beef. I was really surprised by this dish. I felt that it was an interesting mix of ingredients coming together to produce one consistent taste and it managed to achieve a kind of simplistic balance. Very good indeed.

When the battery in your camera runs out, do you still eat pudding?

Crapola! I knew I should have charged my camera the night before. Although in hindsight, I think it was a good thing I didnt. I ended my meal with a pannacotta and popcorn sorbet. It came served in a maxi shot glass and was, very simply just good. The popcorn sorbet was rather nice I thought, it tasted like iced pop-corn with a good dollop of cream smothered over it. Heartily good and a cheerful way to end the meal.

You know, these days I step into restaurants with the mindset that I have to write it up later on and I have (almost) forgotten the joy of just eating good food. When my camera died on me, I kind of put my blogging hat away and just enjoyed my pudding, no pressure, no notes and no photographs. It reminded me why I loved food and I came away from the meal feeling uplifted.

Now if you’re wondering why I’ve been a little harsher than my usual self, it’s because the media and marketing filled me with expectations of greatness. The sole michelin star, in my opinion is correctly awarded, the food is interestingly unique, some dishes are must-tries and overall, Atherton’s cooking is subtle and delicate. No doubt, the menu looks great on paper, but I’m afraid on this occasion, some dishes while good, weren’t signature good.

Having said that, four courses for about £45 is not bad ( if we ignore the recent economic turmoils ) and for the price class, Maze is formidable. But is the best in class? No. Would I go back again? Yes. There is definitely depth in the menu and I suspect there are a few gems I’ve yet to sink my teeth into. But that is for another meal on another day and another post.

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