“..surrounded by the greatest wines of the world..”

The dining room is relatively small but is as intimidatingly as it is posh, as the website’s official photographs suggest. Built around the ‘wine salon’, the restaurant’s private room takes up to 8 people and is encased by temperature-controlled glass walls filled with some of the sommelier’s (Alex Gilbert) most prized bottles. All completely out of my spend range for this solo Friday lunch (or any meal for that matter). Indeed, all of the world’s most storied labels grace Alyn Williams’ wine list, and I feel it only apt to dedicate the following paragraph to this exceptionally procured cellar:

All the 1st growth clarets feature, from average to exceptional years, including a ’90 Lafite. Beyond the formidable Pauillac region, an ’85 Haut-Brion (the sole non-pauillac 1st growth) is listed with a centurion ’82 vintage of La Mission as the proud emissaries of the great wines of Graves – arguably the most romantic of all Bordeaux wines. Cos, Palmer, Petrus represent St Estephe, Margaux and Pomerol. Glaring omissions may be the popular Pontet, the age-worthy monster Montrose and Graves underdog Chevalier Rouge, all three producing consistently fabulous wines in recent years. Personally, I was drawn to the millennium Figeac, the 2nd tier GCC from St Emillion …for £400, easily a 3x mark-up (Liv-Ex trading at £90-110/bottle in bond prices) and only just within a sensible spend (maybe for my birthday)! You know this is a proud British restaurant when it features such a complete set of Lynch-Bages. They hold all the legendary vintages which the chateau has produced in the last century including the ’89 and ’90 at the £650-£700 mark – also 3x mark-up here, but I suppose within the bounds of fine dining restaurants. Outside of the Bordelais bubble, Dujac, Rousseau and Robert Chevillon stand out from the Cote de Nuits list and there are 3 bottles from the mythical Domaine de la Romanee-Conti: Romanee St Vivant, Richebourge and Echezeaux. The top of the line La Tache or Romanee-Conti don’t feature. The two biggest names of Barossa: Grange and Hills of Grace are also on the list; Stag’s Leap ‘Fay’ (no Cask 23) and Ridge’s ‘Monte Bello’ represent the Napa and Sonoma …and beyond that my knowledge of great labels decline.

In comparison, I drank a very modest glass of ’09 St.Laurent by Heinrich (£11.50). An Austrian red and a varietal which I’ve never had before. On the palate, I mistook it as a pinot noir, silky but somewhat spicy, with a sweet finish, like longan.

Alyn Williams spent 5 years as Head Chef for Marcus Wareing, and many more before that in across Gordon Ramsay restaurants in its heyday, as well as stages in The Greenhouse, Zafferano and Chez Bruce: All of London’s long time institutions. Like his predecessors at GR, Alyn has finally put his name above the door. It opened to glorious reviews late last year.

As trends push us away from ‘fine dining’, it’s rare to come across new restaurants which have a dress code. I called 2 hours ahead and was a little surprised to secure a table. I was even more surprised to arrive at an empty restaurant on a Friday afternoon. Only a further 3 tables were occupied later on. The eerie silence was very deafening. This room was crying out for some background music to make up for the lack of chatter.

In spite of the similar positive reception, it is in stark contrast to the runaway success of Dabbous which opened a few months after Alyn. A restaurant which you’d be lucky to nab a table for in October.

Fashion aside, Alyn Williams is still a 2 star chef who has a track record in producing brilliant cooking. His promise to keep the superb value pricing (for at least a few more months) is still held. The 7 course taster a ‘mere’ £55 (also rivaling Dabbous) and £115 for paired wines. The 3 course set lunch is a recession beating £24, ALC at £45 for 3 courses.

Amuse Bouche: Truffle risotto balls, crackers with pickled broccoli, and prawns.

These were all very wow amuses, showing beautiful concentration of flavour. Especially the fried truffle-laced risotto balls – yummy. Not pictured were his brilliantly light as feather gougeres stuffed with stinging Fourme d’Ambert.

Course 1: French onion consomme/crab/gruyere/potato wafer

The menu kicked off with a classy rejuvenation of french onion soup. Served cold, as both a liquid and as a jelly, in a martini glass. The jelly was like a concentrated reduction of beef and onion, dissolving with the liquid in the same glass. A tiny ‘log’ of what appears to be beef cheek with picked crab meat was also present. For a cold soup, I was surprised the smell of onions were still so present. A spoonful of everything produced a precise hit of beef and onion flavours. A cheese wafer on the side served as the cheese crouton. Naturally, the balance of flavours were admirable. What finesse, it reminded me of Jason Atherton’s BLT at Maze.

Course 2: Orkney scallop/cucumber/smoked roes/sea urchin

Another cold starter, but this time with the cutting mineral smell of cucumber fighting against the fishiness of smoked roe. The single scallop remained beautifully translucent in the centre. I didn’t quite get the ‘milk’, was it made from the sea urchin perhaps? Delicious, but too subtle for me, and the least memorable dish of all.

Course 3: Smoked egg/celeriac/truffle soldiers

I know, I know, slow cooked eggs are cliche these days, but I am still intrigued with the many variations the capital’s best chefs has created. I actually swapped out the foie gras semi-freddo for this dish.

Served in a tea cup, the smoked yolk was dizzyingly satisfying. It was perfumed, to me, it smelled sweet, like vanilla for some reason. The custard-like texture was as expected. I’m quite certain the yolk rested on some sort of yoghurt or sour cream, making this either a variation of a Turkish recipe or a variation of a French recipe or me completely wrong-footed, once again. I dug around the cup, but couldn’t find the celeriac – might it have been shredded into the yoghurt? I don’t know.

The truffle soldiers were simply that, toast with truffle. It was absolutely sublime in primal way, buttery with earthy funk. I could have this truffle spread for breakfast everyday. As he cleared the plate away, I told the restaurant manager – whom I assumed was Giancarlo Princigalli, also ex-MW – that the soldiers were to die for …and pleaded for more! He smiled, nodded and scurried away…

Course 4: Sweetbread/chicken wing/chervil pappardelle/pea puree with ramsons

…but instead of returning with more of the truffle soldiers I yearned for, he brought out an additional dish which he explained, that the chef was still tinkering with. Thin layers of pasta sandwiched with chervil with pan-fried sweetbread and chicken wings, both intensely seasoned. Over it, he poured a reassuring warm pea puree scented with ramsons, a sort of wild garlic. Such elegance, control of flavours and delicate texture. The dish was a absolute pleasure to eat.

Course 5: Mackerel/seaweed cracker/miso/cockles

The smell of smoked fish, this is nearly Wales on a plate. The mackerel was nearly transculent, tremendous texture, oily flakes easily sliding off one another. Like the 1st dish, there was a commanding purity of flavours about this. A very intense hit of sweet miso, such a lovely compliment to white fish, the cockles and the nori, reminding me of this was a dish from and of the sea. I suppose this dish is Japanese in inspiration, and my favourite of whole afternoon. I think it was good because it looked completely innocuous, and yet it tasted so completely powerful. It probably summed up the theme, a set of dishes which displayed excellent control of flavour, intense without being overpowering. It seemed like something that may appear on Dabbous or even Hedone’s menu.

Course 6: Devon red beef sirloin/jersey royals/leafy turnip/capers

The beef was cooked to a perfect rare, as requested. This would be my 2nd time eating Devon beef in as many months (the other time was at Michael Caines’ restaurat at Abode Hotel, Exeter) and it exhibited glorious beefiness that I’ve generally come to expect from English beef. Juicy, leading me to believe that it was well-rested before serving. The plate was very hot, as it should be to keep the steak warm, so top marks for the attention to detail. A wedge of the beef’s own fat was laid over the meat – it was all guns blazing with intense blue cheese notes. This was good beef presented in an effective manner to highlight its strengths. Tender for a sirloin with all signs pointing to it being well hung.

For a beef dish, it was delicate, juice-filled turnips just cut away all of the heaviness of the dish, they were sweet like sugarcane. The potatoes were gloriously fluffy, something that may rival Rogan’s vintage potatoes. I always expect beef to be extravagant in high end restaurants – nothing wrong with epic dishes – but I think the lightness was a nice surprise. Eerily precise cooking.

Course 7: Cornish cows curd cheesecake/passion fruit/honeycomb with ’03 Castelnau de Suduiraut.

It was suggested to finish my meal with a glass of this sauternes (£13.00), so I did. Not quite the power and lusciousness of a good d’Yquem, but this wine was supple without being in your face. The 2nd wine of Ch Sudairaut, a first growth.

It was well matched with this minute cheesecake pudding.

Course 8: Baked apple/rolos/hazelnut

However, the wine really sizzled when paired with the baked apple, for which it was designed to do. Rolled-up cooked sliced apple, exhibiting bold sharp flavour. It required this medium sweet pudding wine to find harmony. The hazelnut ice cream was very good, but I didn’t enjoy the caramel-centre rolos. It was very hard to bite into, and after I’d manage to crack my jaws over it, it stuck to my teeth like solidifying cement. Maybe it was too cold, but only part of this pudding I didn’t enjoy.

Reflecting on the meal, I am reminded of restaurants which strive to showcase a sort of distilled elegance. Menus that are designed with precision and poise. If I could use one word to sum up the meal, it would be : control. It’s not surprising, after all, Alyn has spent much of his career cooking ‘perfect’ food, albeit within the bounds of the classic fine dining restaurant likely to charm the bib. And within those parameters, Alyn Williams (the restaurant) is certainly worthy of one, perhaps two macaroons. It is clear that he has got to the very top of his craft because he understands how flavours are supposed to work together.

I paid for £95.06 for the whole nine yards and coffee – justified value considering the level I reckon. But most importantly, I thought food was delicious.

I think the major challenge for the restaurant is probably the intimate yet intimidating setting. There is no doubt that the immaculate design of solid rose wood, sparkling carpets and glass booths that pulsate with fancy lighting, is stunning. But with no windows and those imposing wine fridges, it also feels like an immaculately decorated resting place for a Pharaoh. I just think the room needs a little livening up, starting with some background music. Maybe that’s why Dabbous is doing so well, it’s so airy and open, so too the majesty of HB’s Dinner with the centrally installed kitchen and rear facing tables that overlook Hyde Park. As I stepped out, I wondered about the hotel’s front bar (the Polo Bar?) and thought if Alyn could perhaps migrate his lunch menu (or part of his restaurant) there, it may attract a bigger audience, for which his food thoroughly deserves.

I have no idea how they do at evening service, at the level of cooking (and price) it should be completely booked up, but I didn’t call to check. Having said that, the booths in the restaurant seem very private, which is what you want. It’s just I think that the decor makes it feel like its a once-a-lifetime restaurant, which it doesn’t have to be. I’ve seen much seasonal change across reviews, which suggests that it might be worth multiple visits.

Service was top-notch, everybody was hardworking, a little nervous but genuine, down to earth and human. They even managed to dig out the daily copy of the Times for the lonely diner that was me. I probably sat for 3 hours, long enough for Alyn himself to come out to greet all of his patrons, at the end of afternoon service. I was flabbergasted, I stood up to shake his hand nervously, told him he should win the 2 stars for himself soon and that my favourite dish was the mackerel. The conversation culminated with a discussion of Marcus’ perfect egg custard pudding. A lovely recipe indeed.

He claimed his restaurant was still in its beginning days, fighting to compete for the public’s affection and far from being the complete product he envisions – what admirable spirit. Very affable fella, incredibly modest for someone as accomplished as he is.

I remain intrigued as I write this, especially with these bespoke menus which the staff were telling me about through the meal. You will probably see another post about Alyn Williams soon, and I suspect dishes are still being fine-tuned, even though they are already quite high calibre as it stands. It’s definitely worth considering a visit to Alyn Williams, especially while prices remain as they are.

The Gist of It

Alyn Williams at the Westbury
British £80-130pp.
The Westbury Hotel 37 Conduit Street, W1S 2YF
Tel : +44 (0)207 078 957
Tube : Oxford Circus

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It’s been six months since I was last here. And my information gathering has returned the following: John had left the Josper to pursue new charcoaled pasteurs in Swindon… and is possibly back at Maddox St… , Dave S is still the smooth operator, and Goodman Mayfair is still ever overbooked. It remains my favourite place to go for a steak dinner in the city, and I am very glad to say the Josper grilled, charcoalised, blood filled sensteaktions are still my paramour. Food wise, sex wise, I mean, you know what I mean. Please excuse the vulgarity, it’s meat afterall.

As per usual, I always request for a bespoke cut of meat, on the bone, and have it served sliced, and to be shared. I have since come up with a formula to figure out how much each table requires:

Firstly, to figure out the weight you should order, apply Kang’s Standard Equation of Meat:

150 + 200 x (n1) + 300 x (n2) + 400 x (n3)

replace n1, n2, n3 with number of persons who fall in the categories according to the key below :

Key:
150 – weight of bone,
n1 – number of ladies on table,
n2 – number of gentlemen,
n3 – number of men with impossibly large guts.

eg: if table of three contains 2 ladies and a large tummy then,

Weight of steak = 150 + 200 x (2) + 300 x (0) + 400 x (1) = 950g. Voila.

All steak restaurants should use Kang’s standard equation of meat.

Next choose your cut :

Bone-in Ribeye = Best balance of fat + meat = flavourbags. The gentlemen’s choice.
Porterhouse = Medium Fillet + Large Sirloin = Best of both worlds
T-Bone = Tiny Fillet + Large Sirloin = Poor man’s Porterhouse.
Fillet = Soft to touch, not much to taste.
Sirloin = Balance. Good separation of fat and meat.
Onglet = Out there, livery, cut across the grain.
Rump = Flavour. For when you feel German.

Side orders:

Chips
Spinach
Bearnaise
Stilton and Red Wine Sawce.

And lastly, breed:

USDA = Mild flavour, schweet, tender.
O’Sheas = Balanced flavourbags, tender but not overly so, fragrant, like a field of lavender…
Galloway = Megaflavour, least tenderest, megabeefy.
Wagyu = Oily.

And here are the photographs. All done with a ‘point and shoot’ from the lady’s handbag, if you believe me. We paid £90 for this meal. This is probably my ninth visit to Goodman in two years. It has only gotten better and better in that time. I think what rounds out Goodman so well, are that starters – easily overlooked – are actually quite good. Frank Hederman’s smoked salmon always a good place to start, in case you are lost. The risotto is awesome, and the lobster bisque is to the point.

If you are even slightly curious of meat, go to Goodman.

Buffalo Mozzarella, £8.00.

A light starter, nothing heavy because…

800g O’Sheas Bone-in Ribeye, £50 (@£62.50/kg)

Just look at this glorious monstrosity. Yes.. YES..

Medium rare, no exceptions. You see that crusty skin? That’s the kiss of charcoal. Helps to create the illusion of ‘sealing in the juices’ with the contrast of crusty exterior and bloody interior.

…and please chew the fat. That’s where the buttery field of lavender flavourbags lie.

Lobster mash, £7.

Not bad, but probably abit overkill. Chips would have sufficed.

Creamed spinach with cheese, £4.50

Also overkill, since the main course is essentially meat, with concentrated flavour. Always ask for blanched without cream.

Oh and one last thing. Get the Californian Columbia Crest 2008. A cab sav, really jammy, very heady nose, £12 per standard measure, great with the steak.

Q.E.D. babes.

The long time resident oyster bar at Borough market opened their 2nd London outlet in late 2010, in the very heart of central London. It takes up an entire wing that oversees the courtyard in Kingly Court, with a view of nearby Cha Cha Moon. Alan Yau’s woefully modern noodlebar, which I dread, and which is a place I would only return to, if prices revert to the introductory £3.50-for-every-plate.

Fortunately, I may never need to, now that the new Wright Brothers is so conveniently located, staying open all day from lunch through to midnight, I find myself compelled to go shopping, just as an excuse to pop in for a mid afternoon oyster slurping session. Wright Brothers are in fact oystermen themselves, who own the Duchy oyster farm in Cornwall, cultivating over 5 million natives and pacifics every year along the Helford River. I have obviously never visited, but it seems like an interesting weekend trip to conduct one of these days. This positions WBs as one of the most productive oyster farms in GB.

Previous to WB Soho, my go-to oyster bars were Bentley’s (damn their oysters are fine) and then to J Sheekeys. If you are an oyster lover like me, you can only appreciate yet another oyster specialist opening in town. The media has thus far graced it with a rather luke-warm reception, though it largely praised its split-level, open plan kitchen, wood planked and brass bar setting – modern, a little hectic and fitting for the area. I paid a visit shortly before Christmas in the mid afternoon, to try out my theory of it being an ideal refueling station alternative to high tea. Especially after a rather heavy late breakfast at Dishoom.

6x Kumamoto Oysters, £18.

I didn’t take notes on this trip, but I did remember these smaller-than-average, sea faring jewels, being impressive.They were so pure in taste and so sweet in flavour, that it fizzled on the palate. This particular breed of oysters has its origins in Ariake Bay in Kumamoto Prefecture, of the Kyushu island in Japan; these ones are – as I understand it – cultivated by WB’s Duchy farm. It’s great stuff, could replace my preference for Natives.

I write this while currently on vacation in Brunei (on a very large 27inch iMac, wow all that screen real estate..!) where restaurants import air-flown oysters from New Zealand, which seems like lunacy really; frozen oysters (so I gather) that has made me ever so slightly wary of its adequacy to be eaten freshly after shucking. Perhaps that’s why the menu also gently suggested grilled oysters. Hmm… a curiosity I have yet to satisfy, fearing health concerns. I digress.

What with the rich history of London’s turn of the century chop houses, (and what with me being so far away at the moment), I feel appreciative that the country as a whole, is currently graced with an array of reputed oyster rearing regions – from Lock Fyne to Carlingford to Whitstable, superb oysters are something the UK can boast. Slurp, slurp, slurp.

2x Dressed Crabs on Toast, £18

The main man in the kitchen is one David Gingell, formerly of Galvin’s excellent value-conscious Bistrot de Luxe, and also formerly of St Alban. His track record suggests a good fit for the type of easy, hearty Anglo-French dishes that could best compliment the oysters, at least on paper. Practically, the results seem inconsistent, and have only managed to adequately meet the expectations of your favourite London critics and blogs. As for my personal experience, both Mark and I found the crabs on toast to be hugely edible, but incidental, and was certainly not better than some of the better egalitarian Brit-fare purveyors like Great Queen Street for example.

They charged us a quid for a jug of tap, and the bill came to £37 for the afternoon snack, service charge was exclusive and at our discretion.

I like the atmosphere, and I think it’s a great oyster bar. I spot Frank Hedderman smoked salmon on the menu, which is a good thing; ox cheek and oyster pie sounds like it could be a winner, though generally speaking, I think that warm food at WBS are probably (should be) incidental side dishes to an afternoon (or evening) of oyster bingeing. Obviously don’t just take my word for it, given that I had hardly ordered any hot food based on this visit. I am however, very confident of their oysters. Expect to fork out abit of cash for the fabulous selection of oysters, though I think you will be largely impressed with the shucking. As for me, once I get back to GB, I’ll be headed there for a dozen Duchy natives, paired with an excellent bottle of Chablis to wash down all that minerality.

The Gist of It

Wright Brothers Soho
Oyster Bar and more, £25pp
13 Kingly Street and G7/G8 Kingly Court
W1B 5PW
Tel: 020 7434 3611
Tube: Oxford Circus

Oystermen: Greedy Diva ; Jay Rayner ; GT.

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Bibimbap is a favourite of mine. The elegance of the dish (which is really rice and other bits mixed together) makes it a hearty treat. This is one of my favourite little places in the city, and its about time I headed back for a proper review.

I’m not Korean.

It actually started with a mate of mine, who then told another dude at work, and that dude broadcasted it to the rest of the company, and now, people are absolutely convinced that I am in fact Korean.

Situated conveniently just off carnaby street, behind the dark tinted windows, is a usually packed-out restaurant with a 20 minute waiting time (on weekends anyway). I went on a Friday night, and it was surprisingly empty, tables were immediately available. Not a good sign – does that mean standards have dipped? I wouldnt like to think so, because this place really is a favourite of mine.

Alright, you have to order this sweet rice punch. It’s a cloudy drink with rice grains (£3), and it tasted much like a sweet rice pudding that’s been passed through a strainer. Really yummy, there’s also an ‘alcoholic’ version – a white rice wine (£3) – milky in appearance, supposedly very traditional but it tasted like vodka spiked sour milk, which didn’t quite agree with me.

Ok let’s now get to the menu, firstly its huge, literally and physically. There’s appetisers, traditional specials, BBQ (very good) , rice & noodles (I think) and so goes the list. The highlight of a Korean meal (for me at least) is the BBQ hot plate which sits in the middle of the table, where one’s order of meat or seafood is cooked in front of you. While it’s a fairly amusing gimmick on the first few visits; I prefer the food cooked in the kitchen. Don’t really fancy smelling like beef bulgogi for a few days… having said that, and I’m not sure if it’s a psychological thing, but food somehow tastes better when its cooked in front of me. I really don’t know why, maybe its more sizzly? Maybe I’m more emotionally involved seeing the meat go brown? Who knows eh.

Glass Noodles

On to dish numero uno, this is the glass noodles off the traditional Korean section.

I always order this one whenever I eat at Myung Ga, and I love the bouncy, floury and wholly appetising nature of the noodles. It carried a spicy edge to it, and with a pepper, carrots and mushroom medley for taste. The highlight though is the starchiness of the noodles itself, it was easy to digest, albeit alittle oily. I was glad that this dish still held up to expectation after so many years, it’s not quite as amazing when I first had it, but it’s still formidable.

Next up, is a spicy seafood hotpot.

The first sip was confusingly mild. While there was instant pepper searing my throat, there was a noticeable lack of rich seafood flavours… or any flavours for that matter, perhaps a little too watered down. On the other hand, there were an abundance of fish, prawns and mussels tucked away within the little pot. It really looked like a hearty soup, with lots of fish, but the soup itself was quite a letdown. I couldnt tell what fish they used, but it was quite abit fishy – in a way it was a good thing, since I didnt quite taste much else.

Hm, pass.

Ahh, right then, my favourite part of the meal: BBQ Beef. I opted for the thinly sliced tenderloin, with sesame oil and crushed garlic. Normally this dish is cooked on the table, but I opted for it to be cooked in the kitchen. Hmm…. There is a sesame and white pepper oily slick that envelops the meat, and the sizzling taste pops the moment you eat it. A sweetish garlic flavour then takes over, followed by a full smokey grillness that is reminiscent of well, a really good barbecue. Personally, I would have preferred the meat to be abit more raw than they were – it was just a tad too well done, and verging on being too dry. I must say – it applies in this case as well – while the flavours were ample, they didnt wow like it’s supposed to, when its cooked on the table. I don’t know, maybe Im a sucker for gimmicks, but it seemingly works for this sort of dish.

And finally we get to the bibimbup. I opted for the pork option, with an egg on top. At this point I’ll note that the whole restaurant is filled with sesame oil aromas, ahh… its a very good thing.

The dish is prepared in front of me (woohoo) and I opted for a mild chilli paste instead of the full whack. The waiter douses two teaspoons full of miso soup, a dollop of the chilli paste, and off we go. You can hear the rice sizzle as he stirs, and the pot is so hot that, the egg is cooked on mixing.

The rice was alittle bland, the pot did not impart the signature sizzlingly bibimbups are famous for, and there were hardly any crunchy rice bits, it was a little too ‘wet’ and I really should have opted for more chilli paste because flavour was severely lacking. A little dissapointing really, its the first time the bibimbup has managed to disappoint me, but there really wasn’t much to write home about; this dish was far too bland.

And I say, I say..

I have had far better on previous occasions, and this trip was flatter than usual. Don’t get me wrong though, the gist of it was still there, I still enjoyed the meal, but it wasn’t quite as good as I remembered it to be. I don’t know what it was, I think on the whole it was missing an oomph, a wow factor that sizzlingness of ‘Big’ food wasn’t there; this was just pedestrian. Ok let’s try another analogy; it was like one of those rare occasions when Federer was having an off day, and Andy Murray overpowering him.

Something like that. A little disappointed, but I would still go back. Perhaps not on a hot summer’s day, but maybe a cooler winter’s night.

The Gist of It

Myung Ga Official Site
1 Kingly St
Soho, W1B 5PA
(020) 7734 8220
Verdict: A little flat, tasted good, but not jawdropping. Meal came to £46 for two, I still think its worth a trip, but can be expensive depending on how much meat you order.

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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!