As the third long weekend dawned on me – the same week Kate & Wills tied the knot – I decided to get away from the reality of it, and by the time they were officially Man and Wife, I was watching it back on TV in the BnB. Ahh, Whistable, smell the sea and sand.. and I did pray for last minute cancellations at The Sportsman. Alas, that did not happen.

I called a week before my trip, and begged for a table over the phone, but she didn’t shift her stance budge. “Royal Wedding mate, we’re all booked up for the next six weekends.”

The first thing I did when I placed my bags in the B&B (The Pearl Fisher, run by Jan & Gary and Baby (the cat) , which was a lovely stay) was make to another phone call to The Sportsman. I pleaded again “Look babes, I took the train all the way from London, just so I could say hello to you in person, I’ll swim across the English Channel for you, please give me a narrow space on anyone’s table, tonight.”

Twice she denies me. “I’m afraid it’s a no sir. I’ve already a waiting list, the length of my arm, sir. I’m so sorry.”

The feeling of utter doom came over. But then my staycation had only just begun, and I of course had a back up plan, and the back up plan was to head toward the coast line, and eat whatever seafood was being peddled during that weekend.

Along the way, we stopped by Wheelers to ask for a table; this would be a seafood bar with a 150 year old history, though truth be told, there are only a handful of places to eat in the sleepy seaside town anyway, so the choice was practically made for us before we arrived. The only slot we could get was an exceptionally early five o clock in the evening.

And it’s pink!

Ain’t this the life eh. We sat at the bar and picked from whatever was available and fresh on the day. The restaurant was BYO, so I ran across the street to the Whitstable wine shack to grab a bottle of Chardonnay.

Two really massive prawns, £2.30 each.

Juicy, sweet and chunky, they may as well have been lobsters in shrimp shells.

Whole split lobster, new potatoes, salad, £16.

Mmmm, cheap, fresh, sweet, juicy and just simply awesome. The joy of the British seaside.

The last of the Natives, 6 for £9.

The last day before oyster sex season was to begin in full bloom to be exact. And truth be told, we were not too impressed with these, they were a little flaccid… ironic considering the species’ seasonal circumstances.

Rewinding to earlier in the day, we were already tanked up on about two dozen (or probably more) Whitstable’s best rock oysters (which are available all year round) at the fish market by the harbour.

We also managed a giant cod and chips (which was really awesome) , washing it down with a bottle of Whitstable Bay Ale, along with tubs of crayfish and whelks.

So.. the test run was successful. The 90 minute escape to the sleepy Whistable offerred a serene weekend to recharge spent fuel rods away from the smog and noise. One cannot go wrong with cheap, fresh seafood and a greasy breakfast the next morning afterall.

Nevertheless, this was but a test run. The Sportsman continues to elude, but it won’t be for too much longer.

The Gist of It

Wheelers Oyster Bar
Anglais, £20pp or more.
8 High Street, Whitstable, Kent.
CT5 1BQ
Tel: 01227 273 311
National Rail : Whistable

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“You sound surprised.” Michael’s response to my initial thoughts about his food. I blurted “Yeah. It was great.” with bulging eyeballs. Indeed I couldn’t hide my instinctual outburst. This was a restaurant that had mostly flown under my radar until now. Full report after the jump.

*Note: This meal was comped by Michael Nadra’s PR team.

I read Fay’s poetically inspired take¹ (in print actually, in the ES, funny how it’s more ‘memorable’ as opposed to online reports..) and had become thoroughly intrigued – ‘Heartbreakingly effortful’ was how she described it – with not just Michael Nadra, but also the improving outlook of restaurants in the sleepy suburbia that is Chiswick. We already know about the one starred La Trompette², we also know about Le Vacherin (sister restaurant to the excellent Le Cassoulet³) as well as the fairly new Franco Manca outpost. When the email invite dropped into my inbox I jumped at the opportunity obviously, it was a restaurant I would have gone to myself.

Who is Michael Nadra? Yes I wondered that too initially. His profile is mostly kept to a minimum even though he has been cooking at his restaurant for five years now. Formerly the Fish Hook, it was opened by Nadra in 2005, and as I understand it with much of the same team intact, he had decided on a relaunch of sorts plastering his name on the front door and expanding the menu. Fish Hook had previously received generally positive reviews⁴, though the reboot has failed to catch the eye of the zeitgeist as of writing. The expanded offerings now include meat, a Euro-inspired (Italian-French seemingly) style of cooking with the odd shade of Asian on the palette. So that’s Lasagnettes, Pithiviers and Tatakis.

I think his CV deserves a mention, and you’ll find that the pieces already floating about, also hint at Michael’s illustrious past. It glows like radioactive pie. Even the official website very proudly dedicates an entire page to his background⁵. Stints with Nick Nairn, then with Gordo first at Royal Hospital then at (the old) Petrus (which is technically Marcus Wareing at the Berkerley). He served as Sous Chef to Mr Poole at Chez Bruce, moving to Howard’s The Square, and then back to Poole’s The Glasshouse and to La Trompette. He has even worked with Anthony Demetre of Arbutus/Wild Honey. The chap has worked in serious Michelin establishments. I’m just thinking about the diversity of all the culinary secrets he must have absorbed over the years, he could write a book, hell, he should write a blog.

Amuse bouche, Pea and asparagus soup.

A foamy and warming veloute to start, not indifferent to what you’d likely find in French inspired restaurants around town. Creamy, thick, ‘cappuccino-like’, a nice start.

The wine was great, 2008 Gavi di Gavi from Bricco, an Italian white from Pimeonte made from cortese grapes. Lusciously viscous, lots of bold fruits jammed in but it is also goes down very smoothly.

Starters

Lasagnette of Calf Sweetbreads, Foie Gras & Shitake Mushrooms with a Truffle Veal Jus £11.50

This dish wow. Generous black truffle shavings sat atop a large pasta parcel perhaps two-thirds the size of my fist. The soup made from a medley of mushrooms. It had bags of flavour, the aromas hitting my nose were ethereal. Rich. The potent mushroom-truffle jus was more than enough firepower to pair up with the sweetbreads stuffed lasagnette. I noted parsley as well. The characteristic softly mushy texture of sweetbreads added an interesting touch to the experience altogether. It was all about the sauce, majestically puissant.

Seared Yellowfin Tuna with Soft Shell Crab Tempura, King Prawn Dumpling & Oriental Salad £8.50

On the other side of the table, the better half was tucking into a Japanese inspired starter, the tataki-style tuna charred outside and still ruby red in the centre was beautifully cooked which came with a herby salad, coriander, chopped chilli, pok chai, onions. It also came with a silky, floury wonton-style dumpling (boiled too I think) as well as a deep-fried soft shell crab. My only grip however was the over enthusiastic use of soya, the dish became too salty.

There was a huge pause between the first and second course. Half an hour to be exact, considering there were only three occupied tables in the restaurant, we were bemused with the kitchen’s snail-speed. Perhaps they were just being meticulous? Anyway, so it then I starting taking notice of the rather drab dining room. It had a very hollow feel to it, while it’s usually vogue to go basic, this decor however lacked a cohesive style or authenticity. It was anonymously clinical.

Mains

Grilled Sea Bass with Buttered Courgettes, Saffron Crab Ravioli, Basil & Bisque Sauce £17.00

Being that fish was Michael’s previous USP, it was only natural we sampled some. Saffron is such a lovely ingredient no? It just adds a kind of cherubic fragrance to a dish, along with the sharp seafood flavour of the crab stuffed ravioli as well as the crab flavoured soup, it formed an alluring combo on the palate. The seabass was cooked just right, crispy on the outside, flaky and just a little under on the inside. I really do feel the crab bisque made this dish, it reminds me of juiced avocado milk or juiced honey dew with the fruit flavours replaced with fishy savouriness.

After the meal, Michael told us this was a legacy dish from the Fish Hook days, its popularity amongst regulars ensured it permanence on the menu.

Roast cod, prawns, asparagus £17.00

Interesting. A thin golden brown crust shielded a well-cooked cod, juicy, flaky and silky like oil glazed jelly. There was a tarty shrimp paste on the side, with an equally shrimpy foam but all of which felt unexciting. I didn’t really think that the asparagus, fennel and pea salad gelled with the fish, the crunchiness and the sweetness felt disconnected. Don’t get me wrong though, I love cod and it was well-cooked, but as a dish, there wasn’t enough to sustain my attention span.

Sides: Asparagus, Samphire (£3.50) and triple cooked chips (£3.50)

Samphire on any menu is a winner. Samphire and asparagus are two winners in one. The triple cooked chips were great too, fluffy inside, puffy outside, I would have preferred it just a tad crispier, but these were great nonetheless.

Desserts

Salad of Blood Orange, Kiwi, Pineapple, Nashi Pears, Thai Green Mango, Lychee & Cointreau Sorbet £6

Oh the real star was the lychee sorbet, beautiful sugary fruitiness (just like lychees!) with a soft citrus zing plus a refreshing selection of chopped fruits, yeah this was nice, like an extended palate cleanser.

Chocolate Fondant with Salted Caramel & Vanilla Ice Cream £6

Finally then, fans of gooey chocolate fondants should be pleased with the exactness of this pudding. Though on a general note, I think London restaurants rarely fail to deliver on the chocolate fondant. It is almost a standard feature these days.

Michael came out to say hello to us at the end of the meal, and it was then I told him how astonished I thought his neighbourhood restaurant was. I almost feel cheated that this was a comp as opposed to ‘discovering’ the restaurant on my own, nevertheless, I appreciated the hospitality. Michael is a spirited character, energetic and gleeful, attributes reflected in his style of cooking as well. It is worth adding Michael Nadra to the shortlist if you are ever in Chiswick, it certainly gives La Trompette a run for its money. The ala carte is mostly £8.50-£17-£6 for three courses, some dishes costing abit more, for £40, you’ll eat quite well. Or you can opt for the five course tasting menu for a mere £42. Great value for money, virtuous execution and if you can overlook the sterile ambiance, you’ll be rewarded with great food.

The Gist of It

Michael Nadra
Modern Euro, £40pp ala carte; 3 course set menu start at £16
6/8 Elliott Road, Chiswick W4 1PE
Tel: 020 8742 0766
Tube: Turnham Green

The long and short: Fay Maschler reviews Michael Nadra ; Fay reviews Fish Hook ; Timothy Barber for City AM ; ViewLondon ; Su-Lin reviews Fish Hook

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There are five restaurants inside the beast of a hotel that is Andaz. Situated right in the heart of the square mile, a part of town where I periodically get lost in. I did as I usually do to turn to my trusty GPS when I exited Liverpool Street station. This would be my third visit to the Hyatt owned hotel, based in a Victorian building dating back to the late 19th century. Once the Great Eastern Hotel back in the day. Red brick allegedly. It always takes me for a jog around the block before deciding to get serious. Machines. Just when you need them to do what they’re told, they do the hot stuff. Cast your mind back to the dizzy days of 2009 and you will recall I was invited to 1901 once upon a time. 1901 being the flagship out of the five restaurants within Andaz. I was even given a tour of the guts of a 19th century hotel, which is by far the funkiest part of the invite. All the rooms inside are somehow interconnected. Walls hide secret doors which open to neverland, and alternate universes. There are secret trap doors, dungeons and pleasure rooms. I’m obviously kidding about dungeons. Generally, I liked the food, though the grandiose space spooked me a little… anyway, the PR machine dropped me another invitation to try Catch, their seafood & bubbly bar. Oysters and Champagne you say? Hard to say no to.

As with all my invites, a disclaimer : The restaurant comped this meal, I didn’t pay for it.

Service was a little slow as the staff made us stand like nupties upon arrival. I counted two minutes before someone tended to us. There’s no formal reception, since the whole idea of the ‘new’ Andaz concept is to be chilled but yet maintain the sexy high production values. It’s abit like Daniel Craig playing James Bond, but we know that Sean Connery is underneath the blonde hair and muscles somewhere … “Pussy”. So they are largely successful with their concept. The space feels informal and chic, marble chic with baby blue walls. Tall ceilings give it an open feel. There is the hint of 19th century architecture remaining too. However, Andaz hotel being what it is, had clientèle whom were so well behaved and so well groomed, I could have mistaken them for mannequins. Luckily the staff were much livelier, and the chirpy service took away much of the stiffness – it’s progressive, though there is a general trend toward a more human approach to serving human beings in London. Generally speaking anyway.

As you have probably guessed, the ‘Catch of the day’ is both a plot device as well as the focus of the restaurant – a commitment toward fresh seafood. A giant fountain filled with shellfish serves as the main centrepiece in the room, and as a Chinese guy, sea salt quite literally courses through my veins, I’d like to think I know my fish, but feel free to dent my ego. I once remember paying a visit to a fishermen’s, er, warehose in Glasgow, feeling gobsmacked with not just the sheer quality of live catch, but more so with the depressed prices. Inflation clearly does not work in the same way it does down here. Unworldly scallops, muscular lobsters. So here’s the deal with the Catch of the day option : Whole fish, cooked to your preference, you know steamed, roasted, fried and then you get to choose from a selection of sauces. I was a little intrigued with their golden raisin & shrimp brown butter, which I don’t believe I sampled on this visit. Whole bream and lemon sole were the specials – both fish not to my liking, I skipped their daily catch.

Amuse Bouches was a pumpkin soup served like a cup of coffee. Brothy, stocky, peppery, watery, and I detected curry powder. I attempted to down the concoction, the flavours of pumpkin wasn’t quite coming through, and it was a tad too hot. I think there might even be celery in there, it has a kind of fibrous flavour which I intepret as watery. A little bit more cream perhaps.

Wine was in the form of a bottle of Alsatian Riesling, 2005 Rene mure. Characteristic of the Alsatian style and quite the contrast to German Riesling, this wine was very clean with a palate cleansing ability. A floral and peachy zest, but the best bit was an unusually strong acid hit which starts to sizzle right from the moment it hits the tongue – woah. The acidity continues all the down, very long finish. Brill, and hence worth a few sentences.

Starters, Crab bisque.

Aromatic shellfish check, thick and rich texture, uncheck. The soup is on the thinner side, but it managed to maintain a sharply distilled shellfish flavour. This is quite the subdued version of crab bisque. Personally, I prefer bigger aromas and a huge hit of seafood perhaps I am thinking more of a veloute than a bisque. But mellow did mean that it was much easier to finish. Not bad, but with only mere strands of crab in the latte-like broth… boring.

Next up : Wild octopus salad, shaved fennel and pepper salad

This I really liked, lively, slinky and citrusy octupus slices were so fresh, they could well be alive. The peppery fennel was also served with capers, rocket and parsley. A simple recipe, straightforward but well executed.

Of course, we had to get some oysters, Loch Fyne and Colchester natives, three of each… just a taster you know.

The natives were amazingly potent, fishy and I felt as if I was eating pearls from the sea. Just a feeling. Fantastically muddy and snotty, which in the case of oysters meant that they were delicious. The Loch Fynes, with shells sharp in shape are abit more on the neutral side, sea salty but alot more tame, more mineral. Oysters have such a unique flavour unlike any other food I know of, I could slurp a dozen easily, no three dozen. Where’s my wine.

We also ordered pickled crab with rillettes. Interesting stuff, large chunks of fresh crab compressed to a sort of tower form and seemingly soaked in a wasabi infused soya sauce. I tasted the sweetness of mirin, the moment it hit my palate. So this is what they did with all the juicy crab meat missing from the bisque. A seaweed and pickle salad accompany the forgettable pork rillettes. If I had to guess, then I would guess Pan-Asian, a touch of Japan. Well done.

Finally then on to the main event : Roast Monkfish with potted shrimp, curly kale.

The fish is juicy if just a tad overdone. Slicing it right down the middle into the bone, I noted it was cooked all the way through the entire thickness of the fish. I would prefer it to be slightly under, just slightly. The texture was chewy, erring toward the soggy side, as opposed to a springy bounce. I enjoyed the intriguing choice of garnish, lemon flavoured raisins, pine nuts and deeply seasoned potted shrimp. Curly kale is a good match to white fish, it has wonderful texture, with a tinge of bitterness, but it also has a great ability to soak up all the spewing fish juices. It’s a great ingredient, underused in my opinion. Same as samphire, another often underused but smashing ingredient.

On the side, a mushroom truffle mash – par excellence served with the fish. On the other side of the table was a pan-fried then baked bream. As per the monkfish, this was also a little over cooked and a little soggy. Both dishes are also under seasoned, which might be intentional. I get the feeling that the Chef – Stuart Lyall – prefers subtle flavours, I respect that. Natural flavour should be allowed to shine more often.

We finished our meal with a wintry warm pear crumble. A grainy pear sorbet accompanied the creamy vanilla custard, and it was a mellifluous ending to a meal that was equally so. I think if you like game, strong serious flavours finished with Anglo-French conventions, then 1901 is a good bet. But if you are after natural flavours, subdued and easy eating dishes then Catch is a better choice. Speaking generally, I think the Andaz restaurants provide good value for money, the standard of food is consistent, easy to understand and mostly delicious. Unless you are part of the fanatical foodie republic hunting for the next gimmick or spotting a trend, then I think you’ll do quite well with the relatively ‘safe’ dishes at Catch. As I alluded to earlier, it’s a seafood and champagne bar – the oysters are well sourced, which says it all really. I think it is only a matter of it’s puzzling location, not quite the foodie mile in Farringdon, nor the pseudo grungy environs of Brixton, not the glamour of Mayfair or even the rich diversity of Dalston Kingsland a mere stone’s throw away. It probably shares the same postcode as your workplace. The official website doesn’t list prices, but if memory serves me, the ala carte is in the region of about £40pp (£10/£18/£7), set menus are around £18. I suspect some of you already use Catch as fall back option for power lunches, expense account?

The Gist of It

Catch and Champagne Bar official site £45 pp
40 Liverpool Street EC2M 7QN
Tel : 020 7618 7200
Tube : Liverpool Street

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So the new site layout is nearly done, whaddoyathink? I really like the full width feature box which runs across the new homepage, it lets me post bigger pictures. Woo hoo. Mad kudos to the designer Tim Gieseking. If you have some feedback (both good and especially bad) please send them in. This’ll be a short one, as I sort out the technical side of things, normal London reviews will resume on Monday. In the meantime, some pictures from a recent trip to Brussels.

The warming broth was seeped in deep flavour. The bouncy seasnails were a great snack as we walked around the city. The snail seller was positioned in front of the ‘Manneken Pis’ statue.

Here’s a money shot in the heart of Brussels. Very picturesque city, no?

Toward the bottom right the image (cut-off) is the fountain of the ‘Manneken Pis’, which means Little man pissing. This is one of Brussels more famous landmarks. There are several myths surrounding it; the one we heard was of a little boy putting out a fire (which could have burned down the city) with nothing but his piss. Potent stuff.

If you go to Brussels (and you love seafood), you must visit this place. I don’t know where it is on the map (google it), we basically turned a corner and stumbled into this. There are no seats, people just stand around, order whatever is on the board and just eat. I suppose it’s a seafood & champagne bar of sorts. Very cool. It didn’t look like the usual tourist trap as lots of locals were eating there, very friendly chaps I might add. We were struggling with the Dutch menu, ‘Vis-soup’ … fish soup …? A guy turned around and said ‘Yes! That’s right, great soup.’ and he chatted to us about where the locals go for proper food in Brussels and also beyond, this place being one of them.

The fish soup was cracking. Chunky bits of fish, large shrimps and deep seafood flavours. The rye-bread was served with a sort of soured mayo and grated cheese that went really well with the soup.

Very simple stuff and well marinated. The prawns were plump and juicy.

It was advertised as scampi, but these were more like mini battered fillets. It was fantastic, flaky yet buttery, the batter crisp yet flavoursome, and it was not too oily either. I hate to say this but it would put alot of chippies in the UK to shame.

Finally, here’s a shot of the guy on the hob. They ran out of what looks like tuna when we got there. It smelled so good…..

Have a smasher of a weekend and don’t forget to eat well folks. See you Monday.

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Soho could not be a merrier place. The colours of the rainbow adorn shop fronts and in this most celebrated of city underbellies – home to a myriad of eclectic restaurants – it is the default option to hang out with the cool kids, albeit being a little cliché. Randall & Aubin is such a place for them cool kids; There is an air of relaxed openness from the outset as if, like the rest of Soho, the party never stops. The thumping music so loud it is matched by the eye catching seafood counter. We might still be knee deep in a recession, but man do I need to indulge in abit of weekend gluttony.

Inside the restaurant, it could not be more pumping and gay, as we had to shout to be heard. The aged interiors, a giant glitter ball hanging off the ceiling and seemingly roughly done paintjob added to this location’s spontaneity, like a pop up oyster bar making a permanent home. The Randall & Aubin folklore begins in 1911 as a champion of the finest cuts of meat and cheese. The family business continued until 1996, when it was then converted by James Poulton and Edward Baines from a butchery to its current incarnation as a purveyor of oyster & bubbles, as well a cracking good time.

The party was decidedly happening, even at 4pm in the afternoon. I stopped by for a late lunch, as R&A always looked packed to the brim at night, tempted particularly by the seafood. Inside, this Sunday afternoon crowd had similar intentions; champagne corks popping frequently enough for me to notice it, caviar available at celebratory prices, £90 for 30g. We chose to sit facing the aged tiled walls for privacy, occasionally turning around to absorb abit of the energetic ambiance.

Sliced baguette with marinated olives came first, each basket available with a cover charge of £1.50 per diner. As you would expect, there is plenty of fish on the menu, but it doesn’t stop there. R&A also feature a rotisserie – visible to diners – and you could watch the chicken roast itself on the rotating spit (as I was doing). The grazing menu is snack friendly and I just want to highlight their baguette section, because the bread they served us, was well worth the cover charge, crusty on the outside and a softly sweet dough on the inside. Fillings include salt beef with sauerkraut and hot chicken salad, served with pomme frites at £7.95 each.

A portion of thinly cut frites got the gears churning as we largely ignored the cooked menu in favour of the magnum opus to match the occasion. Fruits de mer, £29.50 per person.

“Is it big? Enough for two?” In hindsight I asked the waitress a naive question. Puzzled, she simply replied “Yes.”

All the gems from the sea were present on this platter of ice, except for a granddaddy lobster. Six rock oysters accompanied two giant langoustines, an oversized crab, six green lip mussels, a pot of diver picked scallops, a handfuls of whelks, a couple of cherry clams and huge altantic shrimps. The embarrassment of riches was a visual treat, as I stood (yes I got up from my high stool) to rotate the platter around, the waitress smiled and said “Big enough for you?” to which I nodded and gleefully returned the smile.

Oh gosh, this was really a treat. I started at the top with the sliced scallops, which I think were only briefly browned, the texture inside was as tender as a lullaby and a natural flavour that can only be seasoned by a lifetime spent in the deep sea. A dollop of the horseradish and a few spoonfuls of the citrusy pink shallots vinaigrette gave the razor fresh rock oysters a much needed bang as I greedily slurped the invigorating juices. The shellfish were the highlight for me, especially the oversized prawns. As I broke the head from the body, savoury juices came spewing out at me, the chunky flesh was so full of natural sweetness, that it needed no seasoning whatsoever. Similarly, the langoustines were all about natural bounce & flavour – akin to the shimmer & bounce shampoo commercials so regularly allude to. I felt like Poseidon with a miniature pitchfork digging for diamonds among the jewels presented in front of me.

I’m not the biggest fan of sea snails, but the nautical gastropods were just so juicy. I wished for a couple more crab claws, but overall I was entirely satisfied with this feast. £59 is a lot of money for two, thankfully the portions were epic and quality wise, the shellfish were so fresh off the boat that the melting ice in the platter smelled of the sand and the sea. We are still living through the greatest recession in history thus far, so I avoided the bubbly and opted for two glasses of palette cleansing Pinot Grigio’s instead, our bill came to £85. I think Randall & Aubin is an instant classic in a storied location, the understated ambiance encourages you go let your hair down, and tempts you to really let go of that tweed jacket, in case you spill the caviar all over it. Seafood is excellent and I’m looking forward to a return visit to try the more modestly priced cooked food.

The Gist of It

Randall & Aubin official site
£30 per person
16 Brewer Street W1F 0SG
Tel: 020 7287 4447
Closest Tube: Picadilly Circus

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Bentley’s official site
11-15 Swallow Street, London, W1B 4DGT +44 (0)20 7734 4756
Six oysters plus glass £9.95

How long does it take to shuck open twelve oysters? Forty-five minutes at Bentley’s – maybe there’s mythical preparatory work involved, but I was completely baffled on this visit. Note, this is not a review.

Service, absent.

Let me introduce you to bartender Tim.

Tim looks like an intelligent and strapping young master, except he’s a lot more interested in chatting with the offshore bank accountant who is sitting at the far end of the bar from me, than actually serving me.

“18 pence per share, FTSE 100 company, I’m not kidding” says Timmyboy.

“eh?” I was thinking more along the lines of £10 half dozen oysters and a glass of wine. Turns out he’s not talking to me, even though he chose to pop a wine bottle in my face and shout across the bar (but to my face) to the silver hair gentlemen who can’t seem to stop announcing to the room that he is in fact, an offshore bank accountant.

Ok let’s try that again. Five minutes of trying to establish eye contact with Mr Stockbroker behind the bar later…

“Hi there, can I get your oysters please?” says me.

“Garble garble garble…. 18pence, went up to 36p last month, I kid you not.” says Tim.

Me: “Oysters, please”
Him: “Right. Oysters. That’s it?”
Me: “What else do you recommend?”
Tim: “Garble garble. I think it’s up to 59p last I checked.”
Me: “….”

Then, he walks toward the gentlemen and reaches his perfectly cropped head toward the man’s ear, as if he was whispering sweet nothings to Diane Kruger. I attempt to re-establish eye contact with Timilicious, perusing time-honoured headbobbing techniques until our eyes snap in contact with one another and he finally walks toward me. (this is a short bar, no more than 3 meters in length)

Him: “Yes, what can I get you?”
Me: “The half dozen plus a glass of white, what wine would you recommend?”
Him: “Its all good.”

Before I had the chance to point to something on the winelist, Mr offshore bank accountant decides to announce to the world that he’s leaving. No surprise, Tim leaves me hanging and rushes to his highness to usher him out the door. He cannot hide his enthusiasm and stretches his hand out and introduces himself “Tim! I’m here all week next week, come back again and we’ll chat more.”

Gosh, what excellent service, now why didn’t I become an offshore bank accountant I wonder.

From start to finish, its about half an hour, and only then did he bother to pour us our glasses of wine.

Him: “This is Spanish, O.K.?”

And he disappears into the next room, never to be seen again. I was so glad when the manageress tapped on me to let me know there was a table in the outside area, I ran out.

Did I mention a £2 cover charge plus 12.5% (non) service?

Appalling.

Seriously, how long?

By the time they brought out our glasses of white which were still sitting on the bar, the cool crispness had become a warm vinegar. Another five minutes pass, I had to gently remind them to bring out our bread, to which the waiter replied: “Oh, we knew that. We were just heating up new ones, just in case it went stale”

Ha.ha.ha.

Forty five minutes into this sitting, our oysters finally appear.

Ok. So here’s the good thing, the oysters were excellent. In fact, they were so good, they might possibly have been the best I’ve ever eaten in London, so far. They were mineral and refreshing, the texture was so creamy that one need not have to hold his breathe to eat them. There werent any strong aftertastes or offensive fishiness.

A squige of lemon here, a splash of shallots vinegar there; Sizzling acidity which went down so smooth, I was inclined to believe that these oysters had true aphrodisiac powers. Oh yummy. Similarly, the bread was top notch – the brown ones appear to be a kind of oat bread, with a sweetish floury flavour and chocolatey aroma.

Right then, slurp, slurp, slurp. That’s twelve oysters and two glasses done. 4pm, time to go. I walked in at 3. The bill takes, oh just about 20 minutes to get to me. And we find that they’ve charged an additional £6 for non-existent cherry clams. Very creative, we send it back. Another 15 minutes later, the real bill reappears. Finally.

Maybe next time, not. 

In the end, we refused the ‘discretionary’ 12.5%, this was the first time I’ve ever done this, as I really felt it was undeserved. Service was dismissive and disrespectful. What was suppose to be a quick oyster slurping session on a sunny Sunday afternoon, turned into abit of a nightmare. There was still the mandatory £2 cover charge per person – that’s four quid, for what? Dodgy stock putting advice from a wannabe broker? Wrong side of the bar and wrong profession altogether.

18p per share anyone?

Carelessness I can forgive, especially if the staff are indeed trying and if the food is up to scratch. Yes, the Bentley’s £10 deal for 6 delicious oysters and a glass of pretty able bodied wine is indeed a very good deal. So much so, I’d go as far as to say that they were worth the 45 minute wait. But having to endure the most egotistical of arrogant barman (I complain about poor bartending, because I’ve worked behind bars before) ever to grace restaurant bars; utterly infuriating.

Perhaps this was just bad luck, an off day and maybe you guys have had better visits, I would really like to believe that, hence the non-review.

If you are reading this Mr Corrigan, I respect you and your work, but seriously take a deeper look into the front of house at Bentley’s.