Afternoon Tea at Sketch

From the outside Sketch could be just another one of Mayfair's private member's clubs. You know the sort; well kept white painted, stucco fronted Georgian townhouses, guarded by the obligatory bowler hat adorned doorman. Take the first step through the door, though, and you find yourself in a fairytale house, each room more different and stranger than the last. 

In fact, the whole building is all rather crazy fabulous and reminiscent of a set from Alice in Wonderland or Charlie & The Chocolate Factory. A hopscotch chalked on the floor leads you inside from the front door (of course I couldn't resist it, such a child!) to the main desk with a neon art installation inciting you to "jouez" behind it. That kind of sums the whole place up, its all about play.

Sketch's website advertises the afternoon tea as being served in "The Glade" which is effectively one of the bars adjacent to the main restaurant. The walls are painted as a forest and a giant chandelier of branches hangs overhead. LED projectors on the back wall beam little red lights onto the walls refracted by moving mirrors. Whilst its all very pretty, it might have been less disconcerting if the moving lights were white like little zippy fireflies rather than the wandering bright red lights which made you feel every so often as though a rogue sniper had locked his laser target on your dining companion's head. 

Priced at £36 this comes in on a par with various other afternoon teas in London. This possibly didn't feel as good value as some other venues as no refills were offered whereas places like the Ritz and the Berkeley are constantly plate refilling. This is more a psychological issue than a real one though as we did leave feeling full to bursting. A large coupe of Pommery champagne can be added for an extra £12, slightly steep maybe but it makes it more of an occasion

The tea is served in a rather natty stack of plates and cups stuck together to make a three tiered tray. You are advised to begin with the warm pesto and mozzarella croque monsieur wrapped delicately in paper and tied with a yellow ribbon (although the inclusion of a staple to keep the paper attached to the sandwich was perhaps an odd decision from a health and safety perspective). Glorified cheese toastie it may have been but it was also properly delicious. 

Other savouries included a slightly limpid and soggy cucumber and ricotta sandwich topped with asparagus - being the only disappointing thing we ate all afternoon despite being quite pretty. A richly flavoured egg sandwich was topped with caviar and a half quail egg truly taking the humble egg sarnie to new levels.

One of the highlights of the whole tea was the smoked salmon flatbread sandwich which had a fabulous citrus zing to it and may well have been the best smoked salmon sandwich that I have ever eaten.

Scones were springy and buttery and peppered with raisins. Served warm and tucked away in  a napkin cradle, they were the epitome of a classic British afternoon tea. Coated with excellent clotted cream including the obligatory yellowy crust and beautiful smooth, sloppy strawberry jam and orange marmalade. I'm definitely a cream first then jam girl. It really is amazing quite how heated a "discussion" can become about which way round to do it! Who on earth in their right mind would ever put the jam on first? Honestly! There was supposed to be a scone photo but I got over keen and jumped in teeth first before remembering I was supposed to be taking a picture.

The pastries were by far and away the highlight of the experience though- and so they should be coming from a Pierre Gagnaire managed kitchen in all honesty. Pistachio macaroons were a rich green with pistachio ganache filling. Nothing new you might suppose but they held the surprise of a sweet cherry hidden deep inside the filling whilst dainty, pink raspberry meringues were stuck together with a runny but tangy raspberry coulis. Coffee eclairs were firm of choux pastry but squidgy of middle, stuffed with a delicate coffee custard. The Opera cake was a complete success; praline, cream and chocolate sponge topped off with a perfect mirror smooth slick of chocolate ganache on the top.  Red berry tartlets consisted of a crumbly, buttery soft pastry filled with a wobbly creme anglaise and topped off with sugar dusted berries. 

Topping the triple-tiered tower of treats was a trifle. Not just any old trifle but one described as "cheesecake in a glass". A sweet but tangy rhubarb compote was tempered by a creamy layer before a jelly and crumble completed the topping. All your nursery favourites in one little shot glass. 

The "parlour" room serves all day food and drink and serves larger cakes on their own so even if you're not up for the full ritual of an afternoon tea it makes an excellent pitstop for a quick cake or cocktail during a hard day's shopping on Regent Street or Bond Street. 

The tea selection is very good, a full selection from over 15 teas, including all the golden oldie black teas (earl grey, English breakfast, Assam etc), a couple of Oolongs, white tea through to several green teas, the list culminating in the heavy matcha green tea. I went for the flowering osmanthus green tea, mainly because it looks so pretty as the flower opens. 

Its impossible to write anything about Sketch without mentioning the toilets, they are without a shadow of a doubt the craziest toilets I've ever seen. Up a bright white spiral staircase to a stark white garden of eggs with a huge rainbow curved glass roof above. Each toilet is a pod within a separate egg. When Sketch first opened there were all sorts of rumours about the pods being used for various nefarious purposes, some just about legal, some not so much and I can well imagine it.

Were there any negatives other than the "no refills"? Hmmm maybe the service which swung from super attentive to sporadic and was on occasion a tiny bit patronising ("You've managed to finish all that food? Oh well done you!"). Looking around though the average clientele does seem to still be very "fashiony/PR/mediaaah" so its entirely possible that most people don't finish the tea. Oooops. 

So how did it measure up on the afternoon tea scale? Visually the Berkeley really would take some beating but purely on a taste basis Sketch was a winner for the combination of flavours and avoidance of over cloying sweetness. That said The Berkeley, although a bit less trendy, felt like more of a treat so I'd probably go back there before Sketch. One thing that is worth remembering though is that afternoon tea is served until 6pm so it does make a more novel alternative to pre theatre dining in the West End.

Sketch
9 Conduit Street, London. W1S 2XG
+44 (0) 207 659 4500

 

Meson Don Felipe

I hadn't meant to go to Meson Don Felipe on a rainy Saturday lunchtime, my intention had been to go to a cheese and wine festival on the Southbank but on arrival I found Lebanese shwarma, the ubiquitous burger, ice cream and various other foodstuffs but not so much in the way of either cheese or wine sadly. Add intermittent drizzle to the mix and it was game over for the wine festival. Cue a wander down The Cut with P and we found our way to Meson Don Felipe (MDF).

The restaurant was reputedly founded in 1897 and has been offering tapas since before any of the rest of London had ever even heard the term 'tapas' let alone bastardised it to fit various other types of cuisine.

I have been several times before over the years and always had a great  evening both in terms of atmosphere and food. Decor is probably as close to a traditional Barcelona tapas bar as you are ever going to find in London. There is nothing trendy or themed about this place, it is Spanish through and through with no pretensions. Art on the walls and ceramic tiles surrounding the room are unmistakably Spanish.  Rustic wooden furniture and bar and a ladder to a small platform mounted by an amp which is often home to an elderly guitarist playing traditional Spanish music. There is nothing swanky about it, its just honest genuine good food in relaxed surroundings. Great first date location, nothing OTT.  

The menu contains all the old typical tapas favourites; tortilla, garlic prawns, croquetas, patatas bravas, sardines with good the good quality basics; iberico and serrano ham and manchego. 

This place is, frankly, what La Tasca is aiming to be except they can't make new surroundings look and old and you certainly can't recreate a one off as a chain, it loses something in translation.  

All that said, I'm sad to say that on this occasion it wasn't great. Nothing to do with the food that was as good as usual. We took a seat at the bar and set about ordering. There was one other pair at a table on the other side of the room and bar that, the whole place was deserted. Two couples came in tried to get a table but were put off by gruff staff and wandered back out. A more persistent group of four came in from the rain at 3.30pm and asked for a table in the near desolate restaurant. They were extremely reluctantly offered one but "only if you can promise to be gone by 7pm". How much tapas would four people have to eat to manage to stay there for nearly three and a half hours? I understand the need to ensure tables are ready and available for fixed bookings but it was a bit ridiculous.  Couple this with the overwhelming aroma of bleach that the staff were using to the clean the bar and it wasn't the most welcoming atomsphere. In all honesty, it was rather clear that all 8 patrons were an irritant. If you don't want custom between lunch and dinner then don't stay open. I do think that this was very much to do with the time of day though and would still recommend an evening visit.

The wine list is, of course, unmistakably Spanish, rioja and other tempranillo based wines understandably dominate. We had a bottle of rioja around the £23 mark and it hit the spot on a rainy day, the warmth of the Spanish sun shining through the fruit with gentle oak and a little tobacco providing interest and complexity.  MDF apparently own a Valencian vineyard so I'd be keen to try that next time.

I am a croqueta addict, I love the things, ideally with ham or prawn. The ones at Meson Don Felipe are chicken but still tasty and properly squidgy in the middle with a crisp, breadcrumby batter on the outside. A squeeze of lemon and I'm in Catalan heaven.

Escalivada can be chosen either hot or cold. It being all grim and non summery outside we went hot. Soft slivers of smoky roast peppers cuddle up to aubergine and tomato in a shiny coating of olive oil. 

Spanish tortilla was a good flavour and golden served piping hot providing the perfect foil to salty rich ham. Baked chorizo is just heavenly, nothing fancy just really rather good.

Would I go back? Yes, but only at night.

Meson Don Felipe
53, The Cut, London
020 7928 3237

Afternoon 'Pret a Portea' at the Berkeley

In over a decade of living in London, I realise that I have not really given the Great British institution of the afternoon tea a good enough hearing. The problem is that I don't drink tea and have a well known aversion to all things cucumber thereby eliminating cucumber sandwiches with crusts or otherwise. Should that matter though? The ritual of Afternoon tea is really very little to do with the tea isn't it?

A few years ago I had a rather lovely champagne fuelled outing to the Ritz where none of the other guests were filling in the song request cards for the pianist so endless, magically self-refilling platters of sandwiches and cakes were consumed to a soundtrack of our own personal piano karaoke. Can afternoon tea get any better?



So, to The Berkeley. H had very kindly given me an afternoon tea voucher for my birthday last year which, of course, I had left until the very last moment to book before it expired. One thing that is for sure about afternoon teas, they get more booked up than dinner at almost all of the most popular London restaurants. The Goring has recently been voted top afternoon tea in London and there is no chance of a weekend seat before the autumn, Claridges are quoting October. Having spent the weekend spring cleaning my flat destroying my manicure whilst knee deep in mops, cloths and a lifetime supply of Flash All-purpose cleaning liquid, I needed a bit of glamour so off to the Berkeley for a Sunday evening tea.

The "Pret a Portea" was introduced back in 2004 as quite a clever spin on the traditional British afternoon tea.   Biscuits and cakes are inspired by haute couture designers and their collections and, as such, the treats on offer change from season to season.

Located sensibly close to Harvey Nichols and all sorts of other lovely shops, it makes an excellent place for a pit stop to refuel. The event (and it really does feel like an 'event') began with a plate of sandwiches; tomato bread (albeit with the dreaded cucumber), curry bread with prawn and olive (slightly odd as the prawns seemed to have been pureed), poppy seed bread with pastrami and the same with smoked salmon and a little wholewheat roll with egg mayonnaise.  All the breads are made in house and were worthwhile additions to the cakes. 

Sandwiches are accompanied by a plate of canapes (in this case a tuna tartare with quails egg, goats cheese on a cheesy buscuit, smoked duck vol au vent, turkey layered with chestnut puree and some of sort of beetroot spicy curried lamb confection which was probably the tastiest). 

Whilst the savouries are all very delicate and nice, the real draw here is the cakes. You are talked through a little brochure showing the designer garments on which the cakes have been modelled. I understand that the pastry chefs even go so far as attending some of the fashion shows to see their inspiration on the catwalk and various glossy magazines advise on seasonal trends (no doubt leading to this year's neon placeholders, menus and doggy handbags).  Confectionery reinterpretations are imaginative and not always the obvious. Whilst some pieces are direct iced biscuit versions of original designs (such as the maple and ginger Fendi yellow shoe and the chocolate Marc Jacobs red blazer), others are more avant garde. 

 Original Yves St Laurent Cabas bag

A green handbag was made of coloured moulding chocolate and was a dainty little replica of the Yves Saint Laurent "Cabas Chyc" bag.

The cakes that I found most interesting were the ones that didn't try to be exact replicas of their inspiration but were a riff on the original theme. The rose macaroon had been styled in homage to a Giambattista Valli dress and had a very subtle rose flavour (nothing worse than eating a cake that tastes like soap).

A nougatine and 'berriolette' mousse (no me neither....think it might be an invented word for mixed berries as found no references on Google other than the Berkeley- happy to be corrected though!) was topped with a chocolate printed with a geometric pattern taken from a Prada garment thereby drawing inspiration from the fabric rather than the item of clothing. 

Gianduja cream sponge has an excellent flavour and the sponge is decorated in the bright pink polka dot design of a Manolo Blahnik stiletto. 

Real Fendi boot thing. 

Biscuit Fendi boot

If you aren't particularly girly or into fashion then I think there are maybe better places to take your afternoon tea as some of the cakes do fall into the 'style over substance' category, when you are using that much fondant or moulding chocolate to replicate real garments and accessories it is always bound to happen.

Despite having been stuffed to the gills with as many mini handbags or shoes as you manage, each diner is given a doggy bag which is in the shape of a handbag (of course it is, why am I even surprised?!) There were plenty of slightly red faced men leaving the dining room unsure of the most macho way to carry a small neon cardboard handbag filled with little cakes- bet they ate them all when they got home though!

Pret a Portea at The Berkeley Hotel
Caramel Room
Wilton Place, London, SW1X 7RL
(0207) 1078866

Chinese Wine: 2009 Changyu Golden Valley Ice Wine, Gold Diamond Label, Liaoning

So Chinese wine. Those two words in combination are not something that would usually get the pulse of your average oenophile racing. Admittedly when I think of China I don't automatically bring to mind a great drink producing nation.  My last experience of local Chinese alcohol was on a trip to Beijing involving near lethal shots of jaw-shudderingly awful "baiju" sorghum spirit ultimately leading to an incident involving a pole dancing pole in a bar in Sanlitun and a skull-splitting hangover the following day. Call me small minded but memories like these don't engender warmth and excitement about other Chinese drinks.

That said, China does have some pedigree when it comes to wine production.  Archaeologists believe that grape wine has been drunk and also made in China for over 4000 years.  What was made was generally for domestic consumption with over 90% of locally produced wine remaining in China. There is no geological reason why China can't produce great wine. Partly due to the sheer size of the country, so many climates are covered within its borders. The diversity of it's landscape and soils provide further opportunities for variation. 

Berry Bros have received a lot of publicity over the last couple of months or so due to their decision to introduce four Chinese wines to their regular stock list. What drew more attention still was the fact that, of the four wines, three are ice wines, perhaps surprising considering around 80% of wine produced in China is red.  Plenty of cynics have suggested that this move is to curry favour with an increasing number of their Chinese clientele thereby indirectly questioning whether these wines are really that good or if there is an ulterior motive for stocking them. Either that or they are on to the next big thing and kudos to them for being brave enough to take the step. 

Due to my ongoing love affair with sweet wine, I'm always going to be intrigued by a new dessert wine so set out in quest of a bottle. Oddly enough despite the publicity back in March, Berry's didn't actually have any of the 4 wines in stock. All are being sold "en primeur" despite the fact they are bottled and ready to go. but despite originally quoting June arrival Berry's still don't have stock apparently. They are also only selling in half cases of 6 bottles which is interesting. Personally I would be minded to try all of them if they were on sale by the bottle, if only for the novelty, but I'm not prepared to risk a punt on 6 bottles each of unknown stuff not due for another few months. Sort it out BBR!

Luckily there are others in the UK that do have stock albeit not at a retail level. Berkmann Cellars have some in stock now and have supplied to Medlar in Chelsea which is where I have tasted a glass and subsequently a whole bottle of the 2009 Changyu Golden Valley Ice Wine, Gold Diamond Label, from Liaoning.

Liaoning is a province right up in the north of China bordering onto North Korea. Nestled between the Nulu'erhu mountains towards the Mongolian border in the West and Changbai Shan and Qianshan mountain ranges to the East, the winelands are in a flat valley irrigated by the Liao river which flows through the province. The region is considered to have a monsoon climate with significant rains during the summer and dry weather for much of the rest of the year but, critically for ice wine, temperatures of down to -7c in the winter. 

The "gold diamond label" (they're not one for underselling their wines, are they?!) is made from the third press of the grapes and is therefore the lightest and consequently least costly option. Served in a tall, narrow, hand blown bottle it looks different right from the off.

Made of from Vidal (a blend of Ugni blanc and Rayon d'Or), the style is not incomparable with a light Canadian Ice Wine however, both the novelty of the wine and the more attractive price point make this a goer in my eyes. 

Colour-wise it is almost the colour of apricot skins, mainly a light orange with slight pinky shades. Deliciously fragrant on the nose (expect tropical fruits), it follows through and delivers on the palate too. Balanced by a good acidity to temper the sweet, slightly viscous texture. Whilst bearing the expected honeyed citrus there is also an unusual but pleasant underlying light smoky tone which I hadn't expected.

An excellent match for fruit desserts but equally delightful sipped on its own and would be lots of fun to subject  people to in a blind tasting were you so cruelly minded!

Listed at Berry's now for £79.38 for 6 half bottles in bond en primeur.

Shoryu, Regent Street

Plenty of people have been raving about Shoryu for some time now, so much so that I had expected arriving to Pitt Cue or Flat Iron style queues down the street. But no. The gas guzzling patio heater thingy was burning purely to warm the night sky rather than any hungry, patient punters. We walked in to a slightly feeble out of sync mumbling of "irashimase" and had the pick of the tables as the place was half empty.  

Maybe the slightly ghostly atomsphere was because I went to the Regent Street branch shortly after the Denman Street pop up opened. Granted it was a Monday night and on the plus side the majority of those frequenting the filled tables were Japanese which is always a good sign. Maybe I just got lucky. Overall, however, I can't help thinking that I've missed the initial wave of enthusiasm and that, as the queues of excited London foodies have dissipated, so has Shoryu's attention to detail.

Soft Shell Crab Tempura

Shoryu might claim to be Japanese run (by Japan Centre over the road) and to have flown in a chef especially but there was no hint of it the night that we visited. All those wearing chefs whites were distinctly pale and mousy of European extraction as were all but one of the waiting staff. Without meaning to be overly personal, there are some people who are not suited to wearing tight fitting stretchy oriental patterned shirts (I count myself amongst them) - I considered a photo but it would have been cruel. They look good on those for whom they were designed but get over a certain height/weight and its not good. Those same people should also probably not be forced to endure wearing a lilac purple "Daniel-san" Karate kid head band. 

Hugh of Twelvepointfivepercent talked about a warm welcome and the beating of a drum, as did Marina O'Loughlin,  however on our arrival (and throughout the visit) the drum was just a silent, large and cumbersome ornament blocking up the main counter (albeit the only token towards a Japanese theme other than the fancy dress staff).  Shoryu, perhaps rather than theming your poor staff, you might focus on making the look and feel of your actual restaurant slightly less like any high street chain coffee shop and more like the "authentic" ramen joint you pride yourself on being- I'm not talking about making it a ghastly "themed" restaurant but at the moment its rather odd (right down to the flavoured coffee syrups on display - what's that about?!). The accompanying soundtrack of "smooth jazz" music only helps to add to the sentiment that at any moment you might hear the whoosh of an Italian coffee machine and someone calling "skinny soy latte and the code for the free wifi please". It feels wrong.

We ordered cocktails, opting for a Mountain Berry Martini and a Lemongrass and Ginger martini.  The mountain berry was off apparently so was swapped for a wasabi martini but apparently they couldn't do this one either (how is this even possible? Wasabi is an every day item in the larder of any Japanese restaurant surely?!) So five minutes later two lemongrass and ginger martinis emerged. They were dire. I get that we don't expect an inexpensive ramen joint to be master cocktail mixers but if you can't do them properly then don't do them at all.  Chunks of ice were floating around in the martini, no martini should ever have chunks of ice. There were also slightly weird browny black and hairy blobs floating on the surface which the lady in the black suit with  a supervisor badge (with power comes permission not to wear the silly outfit clearly...) claimed was ginger but I'm 99.9% confident that it wasn't. Ginger is not black for starters and, whilst fibrous, is not hairy. So they both went back. L - rather bravely in my opinion- agreed to a replacement whilst I went for draft Kirin which is seemed altogether more reliable than the preceding cocktail disaster.  The replacement was ok. Just ok though. When they say 'martini' by the way, they literally mean "Martini" as in slightly 80's connotation vermouth drink. They told us that the lemongrass had been omitted this time, oh and no shochu either (so just a ginger martini then...) and the raw ginger replaced by Belvoir ginger cordial. Ultimately a lemongrass and ginger martini supposedly made with shochu and fresh ingredients morphed into posh British ginger cordial mixed with Martini and water.

Ordering food was almost as painful. I am sure that the handheld electronic ordering machine and system is designed to make the system as accurate and efficient as possible but it didn't work. Not only did we have to repeat our order multiple times for it to get typed into the little black box but two sets of other people's food were wrongly brought to our table and I later got the wrong dessert. Perhaps good ol' pen and paper might be better?

From the "Starters" list we tried gyoza which had a decent flavour and a little kick oozing oil into the dipping sauce. Soft shell crab was not bad, the tempura coating quite light but a little on the greasy side.

Onto the main event. The redeeming feature is the ramen. The basic ramen package involves kiruage mushrooms, bean sprouts, spring onion, sesame, ginger, nori and mayu garlic oil as well as the unforgettable nitamago egg; soft in the yolk and rich as can be (although I'm always left wanting the other half as you only get half an egg).

The char siu pork is lovely, tender rolled roast pork but is categorically not "bbq" as the menu claims, not a whiff of barbecue colour or flavour in sight. The meat is nice and succulent though and good as roast pork goes. The broth, however, is an absolute delight. Deep and rich in flavour and creamy in texture, there are no watery bland noodles served in the name of ramen here. This is down to the heaps of pork bones that are stewed for a loooong, long time in preparation whilst meticulously skimming off the surface to leave behind an opaque but smooth soup.

As long as you aren't planning on speaking to anyone for the following 24 hours, the Dracula Tonkotsu Ramen is an excellent choice. In addition to the basic package you get added mayu oil, balsamic vinegar and garlic chips leading to a darker soup. It claims on the menu to be spicy but I didn't find it overly so. This would be my choice if I were to return.  There are over 15 further permutations above and beyond those we tried and many do sound pretty good. Menu highlights for me include the Yuzu tonkotsu and the Hokkaido curry ramen.

Desserts are bought in from Japan Centre over the road so don't be expecting anything that London hasn't seen before on that front. I always forget when I go to Japanese restaurants in the UK that the Japanese aren't massive on desserts on home turf let alone abroad (memorably after a spectacular seven course savoury meal in one michelin star Tokyo sushi house, dessert was a single strawberry).

The yuzu sponge roll was sort of like an arctic roll but with a large quantity of some kind of slightly citrus flavoured butter instead of ice cream. Very greasy and just a tiny bit bland.  It wasn't awful but I wouldn't order it again.

Matcha ice cream has a delicate matcha flavour and a pretty colour but doesn't rival other matcha ice creams that I've tried (and even not the Haagen Dazs Matcha)

Would I go back? Ask me after I've tried other ramen trendies Bone Daddies and Tonkotsu! If I were in the area and very hungry then I would definitely stop by for a bowl of ramen but I wouldn't travel for it. I also regret not having tried the hirata buns so they might be worth a revisit. So long as you stick to just a ramen and a cold beer and are immune to service issues then its excellent value for money and a good example of a decent ramen. If you want a great dining experience then avoid.

Shoryu
9 Regent Street, London.
No telephone & no reservations.

 

Hawksmoor, Air Street

On my first visit to Air Street it took me a while to realise that I was in the same venue that previously housed former ill-fated inhabitant Cocoon. Glossy sci-fiesque plastic furniture in whites and lurid oranges and reds have been replaced by a glorious art deco interior, a dark wood parquet floor, gleaming brass bar and half moon stained glass windows. 

Reclaimed school bench tables, replete with polished-over compass carved graffiti and aged, spotted mirrors add to the feeling that Air Street has been there, well, simply forever! Despite being prime time West End, this could be a very difficult location from an aesthetic perspective; a very long thing room with low ceilings that might easily feel oppressive, especially with all that wood panelling but its all been done exceptionally well.

picture borrowed from Hawksmoor website!

Clever and sophisticated interior design job aside, a lot has changed from the sometimes strange asian fusion offerings from Cocoon. Hawksmoor are, of course, synonymous with excellent steak, however Air Street sees their first real foray into adding fish to the menu following input from Dartmouth based seafood guru, Mitch Tonks.  Although scallops, dover sole and monkfish all sound delicious, I am here for the beef. 

I've been to Air Street a couple of times now with different groups of friends and never written about it. It was when a recent Sunday a lunch at Barbecoa in St Paul's was aborted before it had even begun (boiling hot inside and horrifically loud dance music for a Sunday lunchtime or a table outside in the shopping centre- at those prices no thanks!)  and my immediate instinct was to call Air Street and retreat to something reliable, that I knew I should write it up.

On a Sunday a roast beef lunch is on offer for £19. Not the cheapest roast on the market but excellent value in my book. Rather than the traditional thin slices of beef, an inch thick chunk of beef is served. The meat is initially seared over charcoal before going into the oven to roast in order to try and replicate the old fashioned spit roasting of meat of yore. The plate is dominated by a giant Yorkshire pudding, crunchy on the outer with a soft doughy pillow as well as a roast garlic bulb releasing oozing, nutty garlic squish, roast shallot, carrots and greens. Horseradish sauce is a sinus-cleansing, zinger of a sauce but it is the sauce that really makes this plate sing. Onion and bone marrow gravy is a thick, sticky powerful concoction; sweet in part but deeply, deeply savoury coating your tongue with such a texture and flavour that makes you know that sauce took hours of reduction before it reached your table. 

Why is it that despite believing yourself to be utterly full you can aways find just a little bit of space left for something sweet? Its almost as if you have two appetites or two stomachs, one for sweet and one for savoury. The trick is to just say no when the dessert menu approaches but I can never take my own best advice and instead always say that I will just take "a little look" then before you know it, dessert has been ordered.

A pretty, individual, round apple pie comes with the offer of pouring cream, clotted cream, ice cream or custard. I don't think my father has ever had so many options and was briefly awed into uncharacteristic silence. 

The salted caramel chocolate cup is essentially a giant salted Rolo. Rich beyond belief, it nearly had me floored but I couldn't leave any of the wonderful salted caramel topping beyond so I soldiered on.

photo also borrowed from Hawksmoor...

Lemon and mint sorbet was refreshing with an excellent tart vs sweet balance and would have been a much more sensible dessert to go for than my chocolate caramel whopper. 

The wine list is just as good as the other Hawksmoors. A 1999 Urbino Crianza Rioja is a little bit of a luxury at around £48 but utterly delicious and well rounded sliding down altogether too easily for a Sunday afternoon. A more reasonably priced Montepulciano at £22 is a perfectly good accompaniment to a a Sunday roast; fruity and quite light but with the oomph to stand up to the beef. The cocktail list is broad and interesting and I will definitely be going back to Air Street just for drinks.

I think that Air Street has the potential to become my favourite of the Hawksmoor family. In part this is down to the location but also the decor, I can imagine that with a summer of Gatsby mania approaching, I might not be the only one....

Hawksmoor Air Street

5a Air St  London W1J 0AD 020 7406 3980

    

Restaurant Story by Tom Sellers

So Restaurant Story is all about telling a story is it? Their "dream is for all guests to leave a book at Story, which will remain there to evoke the inspiration in others that we hope our food will evoke in you"? In which case I'm going to start this post off by telling a short story of my own then. One about the history of food. Are you sitting comfortably? Good, then I'll begin...

In the beginning when cavemen wandered the earth chasing dinosaurs and throwing spears and the such like, food was a means to an end, it filled their tummies and gave them energy. At some point some bright spark must have realised that some foods taste nicer than others. Later on, along came chaps like the lovely Antonin Careme who decided that wouldn't it be splendid if food could also look pretty? After all, the human senses are very closely linked; if it looks nice we're more inclined to believe it tastes nice. In more recent times there are those that advocate the need for a concept or meaning behind our food. Whether it be elaborate tales of the source of the ingredients or the chef's story as to how he conceived the dish to remind him of something in his past. All very interesting. 

So, in summary, evolution of food can be (very) roughly divided into four sections:
1) Fill belly
2) Taste nice
3) Look pretty
4) Have a meaning or concept. 

From my (albeit very amateur) perspective, when dining out numbers 1) & 2) are absolutely vital 3) is always nice and 4) well, concept I can take or leave. Its an added bonus if its clever or funny but it comes waaaaayyy behind 1) & 2). 

Bear with me and keep that little list in mind as we go on a journey into Restaurant Story.......

I think its pretty fair to say that Story has received its fair share of publicity recently. From weeks before it opened journalists and foodies were all buzzing about how good it was going to be. Therefore, it came as something of a surprise that our first challenge was actually finding the restaurant. The website uses a very oldy-worldy font and pencil drawing skyline of London which brings to mind a modern take on Samuel Pepys' diary so I was, incorrectly as it turns out, expecting somewhere old and cosy. What I was definitely not expecting was a newly built, glass front, wooden one storey building in the middle of a traffic reservation on the site of a former public toilet. From the outside it resembles a lakeside cafe in the park. After circling it and finding no identifying features we hazarded a punt and went in (if only to avoid walking any further down the interminable Tooley Street).

We were indeed in the right place and yes they do know its hard to find. We were informed that apparently "the chef likes it to be discreet". There is nothing wrong with discretion but it is usually a positive if your customers can find you. Here's hoping that the real reason for the anonymity is that the new door sign is still on order and hasn't turned up yet, any other reason could be deemed rather pretentious in a new restaurant.

Canapes arrived at a lightning pace, before we had managed to even take a gander at the drinks list or the menu in fact.  I was left juggling napkin, wine list, menu and bits of food. Fish skin with an oyster puree and carrot tops had an incredibly strong flavour but was quite pretty I suppose. Unadventurous on my part maybe, but something very dry and strong with the occasional scale still attached was a step too far and one and three quarter portions went back whence they came. What turned out to be the real highlight of the meal emerged next; a polenta coated deep fried "rabbit sandwich' topped with slices of heritage carrots and a tarragon puree. Crispy outer giving way to layers of moist, succulent rabbit flesh were a joy; I could have eaten a whole plate. Nasturtiums filled with an oyster cream were, well, just rather odd. 

Two options are on offer; either 6 courses for           £45 or 10 courses for £65. It seems churlish not to go the whole hog once you've gone to the trouble of getting your hard fought for reservation and managed to find the restaurant. Mmmm hog, I wish there had been some hog.....

Perhaps the most talked about dish Story is presently offering is the beef candle with bread rolls. As the candle burns it creates a pool of thick, molten dripping in a metal dish at the bottom of the candlestick holder.  The dripping has a fabulous meaty flavour and the bread a really good texture. It arrives accompanied by a pot of pickled vegetables and cubes of veal meat that contrast nicely with the grease of the dripping. Despite it pretty much being posh bread and butter it is tremendously clever. We're off to a great start.

Beef candle. Hand modelling by A. 

What remains apparent throughout the entire meal at Story is that an incredible level of imagination, culinary skill and effort has gone into conceiving, preparing and presenting each dish and it is very clear that all the kitchen staff are very passionate, coming out and presenting dishes to diners themselves explaining the origin of ingredients and dishes. The youth and earnest passion exuding from every last sinew of the kitchen crew therefore makes it hard to say you didn't like something. It feels a bit like kicking a puppy.  

The wine list is accompanied by a very detailed description (or "story") about how they did lots of tastings with their friends and picked only the best ones and how they will go brilliantly with the food etc etc. To be honest we didn't find anything that appealed on the main list but went for a carafe of Riesling and a carafe of Bordeaux. Both were decent quality and the Riesling was indeed a good match for the first few dishes. At around £25 for a half bottle carafe they are not super cost effective. The cocktail list is comparatively short but decent, an Old Fashioned was well made.

Burnt onions consisted of a variety of different types of onions (Lyonnaise, Roscoff and baby onions) cooked in different ways; some roast, some pickled. An apple & gin vinaigrette brought a fresh zing to the burnt bits of the onions and wild garlic flowers added depth of flavour. Tasty stuff.

Scallop was well executed ceviche style but unfortunately A is afflicted by a rather annoying seafood allergy. The plate was first delivered with scallops so had to go back, when it returned it was essentially a plate of cucumber, ash and dill. Yes the scallops had been replaced by some dill snow but "snow" of any variety does not a main ingredient make. Replacing ingredients to address allergies is a challenge that any restaurant offering a fixed tasting menu is always going to be faced with and one that Story didn't meet for us.

The ash is produced in a kettle barbecue contraption kept out the back of the restaurant and apparently its the job the kitchen staff all compete to do. 

Pressed pear with leek, kelp jelly and white crab had very clean contrasting flavours. I could definitely done with some more crab though.

The next course was, contrary to expectation, my favourite savoury one of the whole meal. 

Early season English asparagus chargrilled was served with a beautifully smooth, cheesy creamy mash (made from some "exceptionally rare, special potatoes from Wiltshire that the restaurant is really lucky to be supplied with but the farmer is mates with Tom" I'm given to understand) surrounded by coal oil. I have to admit that I didn't derive a great deal of flavour in the coal oil but it was aesthetically interesting. Basically if I could have had a giant version of the rabbit sandwich with plenty of this mash and asparagus I would have been a very happy camper.  

The only meat dish of the 10 course menu was a lamb dish. My picture was blurry and I forgot to write it down. Sorry.

Confit beetroot was served with more snow (horseradish) and sliced raspberries with another vinaigrette (raspberry) and more oil. 



Yep, you've guessed it. More snow. Lemon nitro sorbet this time.  This dish involved meringues, lemon custard ice cream. It was very refreshing and kind of a very elaborate deconstructed lemon meringue pie. 



"The chef is trialling a new prune dessert and wondered if you would like it instead of the rhubarb?"  Maybe I'm expecting too much here but if I've selected a menu then I'd like what I ordered. If the chef needs guinea pigs to test new dishes on then shouldn't it be served in addition to the listed courses not instead of? I got the feeling that perhaps I was supposed to feel grateful to be allowed to try this new morsel before the masses clamouring for a table, sorry, no. We stuck with the rhubarb dessert and were glad we did as the little milk bottles served with a stripey red and white paper straw in an old fashioned wire milkmans crate were delicious. A layer of rhubarb puree was covered in liquid custard and topped with cream soda, I could have drunk a giant one!



Then came the turn of the porridge. A cartoon of the three bears was silently placed in front of us, each image marked "too salty", "too sweet" or "just right". The waitress came over and placed three small bowls in front of us and announced rather imperiously that we were to "try and see if you can work out which is which and we will discuss afterwards". Call me grumpy but anyone commanding me that I will discuss my dinner with them afterwards to see if my taste buds are working is highly likely to get short shrift.

It doesn't take the most sophisticated palate to work that one is really very salty (almost inedibly so), one is very sweet (and quite nice as a very small portion) and the other? Well, its "just not right". Its more of a mixture of the other two resulting in an odd sweet and salty combination that only works on popcorn but definitely doesn't have a place in porridge. Neither, for me, does porridge have a place on an evening dessert menu. Who in their right minds willingly serves a dish to diners that is "too" anything? If it wasn't good enough for Goldilocks then it's a fair guess that I'm not going to like it either.

The bill came totaling £230 so £115 each for what was predominantly a very pretty, extremely laboriously prepared and imaginative arrangement of vegetables interspersed by occasional protein. I also think the £2 for water is a bit much. Yes its only £1 a head but we ordered tap water, surely if you're going to charge for it you should tell people? As the Critical Couple blog once pointed out with regard to another establishment, all those £1 fees add up to quite a handsome sum over a year.  Serve was good but still lacking a little in experience in some quarters but that will come with time. I did sense that they must already be used to people throwing superlatives around about the food since although I asked lots of questions, they became gradually more disinterested in me as the meal went on. 

The bill was accompanied by two chocolate teacakes (or giant chocolate nipples depending on your viewpoint). They were flavoured with rose which was a little overpowering but fitted with the nostalgic theme of the meal and the pervading strong clean flavours throughout the menu.

Sellers clearly has an impressive pedigree and the restaurant is a fabulous achievement for someone his age- it does make you question what you have achieved in your own life. Having worked alongside chefs such as Tom Aikens, Rene Redzepi, Adam Byatt and Thomas Keller, the influences are apparent in his cooking but Redzepi and Keller are the two that seem to have made the greatest mark, both in terms of emphasis on raw food and fish and also the conceptual side to the food. Story is a success in that it gets people talking, I've had more to say about this meal than many others I've eaten recently. That said though, I don't think I'd be recommending it to anyone any time soon, the whole "Story" concept just feels forced. Ultimately there is too much style over substance and although I didn't leave hungry, I wasn't exactly full either. Vegetables far outweigh other food types as the main element of dishes which doesn't exactly enthrall me.  Oh and enough with the vinaigrettes already, my insides must have been pickled by the time we left!

Reverting back to my mini history of food and the 4 types of food - told you to bear with me! Somewhere along the line Story lost sight of points 1) and 2), that is the bit about tasting good and keeping your belly full which is a great shame as both of those elements are still of paramount importance for me.  I love all the alchemy and gadgets and ooh and ah at the spectacle of dry ice and a beautifully conceived and constructed plate but for me to really rate a meal it would have to taste amazing blindfolded and that is where Story fell short.

Towards the end of the meal the waitress asked what our highlights had been and on mentioning the rabbit cake canape she commented that they get that response a lot- maybe this shows that people like something a bit meaty with some substance!

Will I go back?  I don't think so, unfortunately. That's the thing with placing the emphasis on experience and concept over taste, once you've done it, it loses its impact a second time round. I shall leave the last word to A who shared the meal with me. At the end I asked her verdict. Her response? "Well I didn't not enjoy it". 

Restaurant Story 
201, Tooley Street, 
London. 
SE1 2UE.
020 7183 2117