From the creators of the sleeper hit of the century, the Icelandic inspired, macaron-winning, Texture, comes Rousset & Sverrisson’s next high octane, vinely-charged collaboration, titled 28-50. The name is a geographical tip of the hat to all the world’s vineyards, most of which lie between the latitudes of 28° to the North and 50° to the south, not that I know what that actually means, obviously. Fashioned in a similar way to the hugely successful Terroirs, these are restaurants that lure the serious food addicts in – the proverbial mouse trap – and then throw them off guard with an astounding list of wines, in an vain attempt to convert them to the darkside. To that end, Sverrisson and Rousset have installed Paul Walsh – previously sous chef to Clare @ Royal Hospital Road – in the kitchen to churn out top quality, French inspired dishes. You’ll probably recall the gushing remarks I made, when I visited Texture a few months earlier, and so I was naturally perky (and melancholic) when I learnt that Laissez Fare was conducting his official leaving do at this restaurant.

We were a table of twelve (or so), but to be honest, things became a little hazy after I started ingesting alcohol, starting with an awkwardly short measure (75ml) of Picpoul de Pinet (by Domaine Laurier, 2009 for £2.45) which was a little papery, crispy and carried a faint whizz of fizz. There were familiar faces, Gourmet Chick, Mathilde, UN and then there was the we-meet-at-last meeting, pleasantly surprised to have finally shook the hand which writes An American in London. She eventually revealed the riddle – and inspiration – behind her blog’s URL (R.W. Apple, Bing it!) and is probably the last blogger in England yet to fall in line with the Twitterati. She’s still interested in old fashioned, real-life conversations, you see.

We chose from a party menu, about £30 for 3 courses, and I had done a quick side by side with what’s online and twas evident that this was a subset of the main menu, rather than a bespokely limited offering. However, in the spirit of truly never doing things by halves, take this blog post with the heaviest pinch of salt, as I intend to follow-up with a fuller and more representative experience.

Confit trout, fennel, mustard dressing.

Immediately, I thought this dish had shades of Texture written all over it, the gently cooked fish, the ghastly regurgitate-it food styling, the dash of dill and cubed vegetables. Sweetly, pickly and a cream-like sauce played nicely with the natural oils of the trout – which was gentle, soft but only just lacked the fine sous-vide touch, so perfectly illustrated and gloriously exploited at Texture. I enjoyed this.

The White: Zeleni Silvanec, Marof, ’08.

Slovenian wine – a first for me – was paired with our selection of starters, which I have to admit, I wasn’t really paying much attention to. The wine hails from Northern Slovenia and the varietal is Zeleni Silvanec or Sylvaner, which again is a first for me. It carried a natural fizz, I detected nuts and zest. Very young, very clean and highly charged as it coursed through my system.

Onglet of beef, chips and sauce choron.

For mains, I opted for the obvious choice of L’onglet. I was a little worried at first, since the waitress didn’t ask how we’d like our steaks, the rest assumed it was going to be medium-rare, but I wouldn’t mind it a little bloodier, considering the cut.

My fears were mostly unfounded, as it arrived perfectly medium rare. I have a feeling the steak had been pre-bashed – it was the flattest onglet I had ever seen, and surprisingly the tenderest I had ever eaten. Grain was unnoticeable, the natural bitterness of onglet was pleasing, and I was hugely enjoying the – now mushy – spongy texture of the steak. It was well-seasoned, but perhaps just a tad too much so, it had me wondering if powdered tenderiser had also been applied. Nevertheless, it was a sterling example of an onglet. Extra points for the extra touches, arranged crispy chips and a sweetly caramelised shallot and props for serving a sauce choron. It tasted like a chilli bearnaise to me, a shade of orange, which I found to be rather intriguing. I had to google this, and as it turns out, sauce Choron is named after Alexandre Étienne Choron, a chef who lived in the late 19th Century, whom had invented his namesake sauce, a variant of the bearnaise, without tarragon or chervil, replacing with an enriched tomato puree instead. Personally, a brand new way to eat steaks.

The Red: Syrah, Mullineux, Swartland, South Africa, 2008.

The red was eye-openingly brilliant, this you could stick a straw in and drink it like it was the juice of the gods. Smoky, bitter, creamy and jammy. Very sweet for a Syrah. I pour as much as I could in my glass, to the limits of being considerate to others also sharing the bottle. Or so I thought.

Rum baba.

Pudding was fairly standard and traditional, the lightness of the cake was appreciated, but I could have done with the cheese platter (from La Fromagerie) to be honest.

We each paid about £60, £50 for those who ate less, and drank less, and I think everybody had a great time. I think the food is good enough, but the wines were better. Especially since food seemed more like a side show to the fabulous way the wines have been curated and presented. An entertaining side show nonetheless.

Speaking of the list, it features 15 whites and 15 reds which could be had by the glass, measuring conveniently at 75ml, 125ml and at 250ml, the latter of which is probably on the menu for legacy reasons. As I alluded to earlier, I enjoyed 28-50, and I would be interested to return to sample a flight of 75mls; afterall Xavier Rousset is an award-winning sommelier. Xavier also conducts monthly wine workshops for £25 per head, that seems intriguing, as of writing, his sessions appear to be fully booked to October. Also, his ‘Collectors List’ is put together from private collectors who have agreed to sell their precious stock on consignment. I’ve seriously gone off the trail in my wine education of late, so this seems an ideal route to get back into it. I do have to entertain relatives visiting London soon. I didn’t really take to the cavernous, subterraneo setting at first, but after slapping on the tipple goggles, everything looked woodenly sexy anyway. Maybe it was just a little too bright. The force is strong with this one folks. Good food, good wine, good service, a wine restaurant for wine and restaurant collectors alike.

The Gist of It

28-50 Wine Workshop & Kitchen
Wine bar, £60pp plus tipples
140 Fetter Lane EC4A 1BT
Tel: 020 7242 8877
Tube: Chancery Lane

Gulp: Guy Dimond ; Dos Hermanos ; David Sexton ; Gastro1

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

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

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

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

Cod fish skin, parmesan, potato and bread crisps.

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

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

Amuse Bouche: Pea and Mint.

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

Starters

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

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

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

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

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

Mains

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dessert

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

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

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

Strawberry Granita (from the set lunch)

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

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

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

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

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

The Gist of It

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

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

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

Image by mckaysavage.

Willkommen. Vidza Koram. Yo. Chetorochak. Selamat Datang. Huan Ying. Maliu Mai. Emukela. Bienvenue. Alii. Bem-vindo.  

You’ve arrived at londoneater.com – where a foodlover living in London (me) writes about his favourite subject. First of all, thank you for visiting, feel free to look around and leave some comments.

Having spent many years as a serial blog reader, I was inspired by great bloggers out there, who’s writing has captivated my imagination many a times. I read the essentials like the hufftington post, freakonomics, copyblogger,seeking alpha. No surprise, though, my favourites are decidedly food blogs. Ideasinfood, londonelicious, midtown lunch, vinography just to drop a few names. You can check out all my links on the side bar to your right. It’s still early days, if you wish, you can subscribe via RSS or email.

The egg white recipes. Growing up with a dad who loves eating, it took no time for me to follow in his food-steps. He’s a man with lots of stories, like the time he was a part-time barman (boy?) at the ripe old age of twelve and of course the stuff he loved most about his dad’s cooking. My grandfather was a cook who owned a family business in a form of a diner/cafe/bar/restaurant. It opened seven days a week, at at the crack of dawn at six for breakfast and closed at midnight for those with an appetite for liquid suppers.

 Image by visulogik.

Finding that dish. I remember my version of the egg white recipes. I call it finding that dish. For my 22nd birthday, I went to a place you might know, just off hyde park corner, to try the famed black cod miso. Service was pleasant, they sat us by the window overlooking the park, which was just nice. We started light by tucking away some rather unexciting ‘new style’ sashimi before the main event. Oh.. what a stunner, it was simply beautiful. Delicately browned, pretentiously garnished with miso drops the size of pennies and gently resting on a rather striking soba leaf, it oozed cool. 

Image by mccun934.

The combo of miso, sake and grilled cod produced some heady aromas that just screamed ‘eat me’. My first bite: instant realisation that the explosion of flavours, designed to compliment each other, was doing its job superlatively. The heat sizzled and buzzed as my taste buds swooned in esctasy. At the same time, I was experiencing a sense of harmony as the sweet balanced the savory. A firm texture to cut into that melted away (some say like butter) like a snowflake the moment I gobbled it up. It had changed my perspective of how fish could taste like. I found that dish.

Will I or won’t I ever again?  Since that fateful occasion, I’d always get animated whenever I see the words ‘black cod miso’ appear in a menu. For me, that’s where the passion and the enthusiasm comes from. I’m guessing you probably share the same salivations being that you are still reading this, if not, then maybe some of the words here can help open doors to the wonderful world of the gastronomy. It’s full of character, colour, vigour and life. I hope it’s not going to be another 40 years before uttering the four magic words again (IFTD). Till then, I guess I just have to be on the look out.

About London eater.com

I created this website to profess my passion for all things related to food. Primarily, I’ll write in three main categories: Restaurant reviews, Wine (plus reviews) and musings/ideas/articles on food. Living in London, a city of diverse cultures, one will find that there is a great selection of restaurants that serve a wide range of cuisines.

Tasting great food can take control of all your senses, inducing the brain to fire off all kinds of chemicals and hormones and this can result in quite memorable experiences. My mission is to eat as much great food as I can and then, tell you about it. Admittedly, I’m no chef nor am I am a professional eater; I’m simply someone who enjoys celebrating gastronomical brilliance and the many tasteful ways one can express them in copy. I hope that, in time, this can become a guide to anyone seeking great food in the Big Smoke and also to inspire people to love food.

All my escapades are self-funded so I aim to provide unbiased reviews (and views) of all the places I go to. In between my restaurant hopping, I’ll write about any grubby musings, include details of my food related misadventures in London and also my worldly & occasionally other-worldly travels. While I’m at it, I’ll also include my latest vinificatively-charged conquests along the way. 

I hope you’ll enjoy reading this little column of yumminess as much as I enjoy writing it, if you do, help spread the good word about this site (‘Share This’ below), and do leave some from time to time whenever you spot something that wheats your appetite. Now let’s get on that quest to find that dish.