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

 

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

 

Medlar, Chelsea

I love Medlar. Turn round and walk away now if you're expecting one of my occasional scathing, sharp tongued rants, this is going to be nothing but an homage to what has incredibly quickly become my favourite London restaurant. Since my first visit towards the end of 2012 I have already returned far more often than the waistband of my jeans would like but its formula of great, relaxed service, perfectly executed food and a delicious, varied wine list makes it irresistible. 

Medlar made an understated but immediately acclaimed entrance into the London food scene in April 2011.  Its more public prominence came about when it was awarded its first Michelin star in September 2012. If you were to summarise London food trends in one sentence, 2012 was the year of the super-trendy, starry, young chefs like Ollie Dabbous or Ben Spalding, it was also the year of the hyped up, queue-because-its-worth-it,  fast/finger food type restaurants. Not that there's necessarily anything wrong with this - on the right occasion I love all that stuff-  but how nice is it to have a straightforward, good, customer-focused, hype-free South West London restaurant? You know you're getting long in the tooth when all you want on a night out is to make a booking, know you will arrive at your destination, be seated straight away with a smile, be able to eat your food with a knife and fork and not have to shout at one another. Oh and not having to travel to the depths of east London/Dalston is a bonus.

I like the décor very much, the main room has walls in a neutral greeny beige, funky wall lights, art I would stick on my own walls and an age spotted mirrored wall leading through to a light and airy room at the rear . No photo from me unfortunately, those that I took were so excrutiatingly awful I couldn't post them. I've taken the liberty of nicking one from Medlar's website - hope they don't mind!

I have to admit to being potentially rather biased at this point. I have always been a big fan of both Chez Bruce and The Square however it was only after my first booking that I realised that Medlar is co-owned by David O'Connor (former manager at both CB and the Square) and chef Joe Mercer Nairne. Medlar quite clearly has drawn many inspirations from the Nigel Platts-Martin stable whether at Chez Bruce or the Square. Even the font in the wine list is the same as at Chez Bruce.  That said, this is far away from being a carbon copy.  Staff are not uniformed and are for the most part quite casual in jeans and pumps. The majority of staff are French despite the English chef/owner partnership and an absolute delight. The atmosphere is more laid back and the menu edgier. The egg tart with ducks hearts is anything but an obvious choice but has found a place on various "best dish in London" lists. 

The menu follows the Chez Bruce/La Trompette etc formula of a fixed price for 3 courses, something I don't object to in the slightest but could be annoying if you're a salad leaf muncher (then again probably not Medlar's target audience, despite it being Chelsea). Here's where the good bit comes though; the price. On a weekend lunchtime and Saturday nights it is a mere £30 for three courses. Michelin star food at high street prices. Even on a prime time Friday or Saturday night its a not unreasonable £42. What is especially impressive is that the same quality of ingredient and menu is offered on the cheaper days as on the usual ones. An even balance of meat, fish and veggie includes classic dishes with a twist and some more unusual options; both crab raviolo and calves brains appeal to different types of diner but have equal prominence on the menu

Former winner of "Young Sommelier of the Year', Clement Robert, is a massive asset to the restaurant and has put together one of the best wine lists I have seen in a long time.The list is comprehensive and broad in its appeal. The 'names' are well represented from all French regions but more unusual grapes and wine regions also make a welcome appearance.

After merrily debating with us the merits of left bank Bordeaux versus right we opted for a 2008 Croix de Gay Pomerol. So good in fact that I’ve spent more time than appropriate searching for it on the internet (and bought a case of 2010 to keep- couldn't get any 2008 apparently Medlar buy from the same source as me and beat me to it!). On other occasions we have flirted with the Rhone, sampled Austrian white and even Chinese dessert wine (separate post to come on this).

We started with a bottle of the house champagne, at £11 a glass or £49 a bottle buying by the glass is less economical so we forced ourselves- it was tough but we survived- to be as efficient as possible on the champagne drinking front and have the whole bottle.

So onto the all important bit; the food! Crab raviolo is one of the starters for which Medlar has become known, a signature dish you might say. In fact, follow either the restaurant or David on Twitter and you will occasionally get a running commentary on how many crab raviolos have been served since they opened and we're into the tens of thousands. Consisting of one very well stuffed and well seasoned raviolo perched in a rich, creamy seafood bisque dotted with tiny curled up brown shrimps, it didn't fail to impress.  Samphire and tomato added an extra dimension and colour.



The wild garlic soup with pheasant egg and morels consists of a startlingly bright emerald green soup which has a delicacy of flavour that you wouldn't expect from something as powerful sounding as a garlic soup. The vibrance of the herbs was balanced by the rich ooze of a soft boiled egg but the stand out ingredient balancing the dish to perfection were the morels, bursting with a gently salted butter gloriousness. Yes folks, it a vegetarian 100% meat free dish and I loved it. What is wrong with me?

Talking of well stuffed, portions are a really decent size at Medlar.I don't generally order lamb, its not my favourite flavour of meat but took a shine to it having a bit of a beef overdose in the preceding week. But oh my days! The highlight beyond highlights of this dish was the humble fondant potato. A caramelised brown, buttery oval of the most meltingly soft potato you can imagine.

That said, the under blade fillet of beef with cafe de Paris snails was also pretty amazing. Served with super crunchy, fluffy centred chunky chips and a truly excellent bearnaise sauce; its fine dining spin on the classic steak and chips and utterly delicious. The addition of the lightly curried flavour snails takes the dish from a well executed classic to something new and exciting. My favourite main course, however, (and- dare I say it- the best piggy dish I have ever had) is pork served five ways using Richard Vaughan's rare breed middle white pork from Huntsham Court Farm. Slices of very slightly pink, succulent pork were accompanied by a peppery, dense, meaty sausage and a chunk of sticky,sweet pork belly. Light, crunchy, puffed up crackling was saved until last in time honoured fashion and was worth the wait. The fifth porcine offering was perhaps my favourites: little deep fried croquettes of tender pulled pork that melted in the mouth. A light jus sauce, cocotte potatoes, runner beans and sweet carrot puree completed my perfect dish.

 

I am passionate about cheese. Ridiculously, inappropriately so. Other than a chunk of parmesan for cooking I don’t keep cheese at home, it’s just far too dangerous, I'd resemble the marshmallow man within weeks. I was therefore really happy with the cheese tray at Medlar. With in excess of twenty cheeses on offer, all tastes are catered for. To ensure the best possible range and quality Medlar source their cheeses from four different suppliers including one which was a new one on me (and the source of my favourite cheese of the evening St Felicien) Bielleville which is near Harrods in Knightsbridge. I also had a 3 year old very sweet, nutty Comte and some Epoisses so runny that it slid around the plate like primeval ooze (in a good way honest!). The creamiest of Brillat Savarin's you can find and mouth itchingly mature Montgomery contrast with a well balanced, award winning Barkham blue. Pyrenean Bleu des Causses, Livarot, Cropwell Bishop stilton (Paxton & Whitfield), the Who's Who of cheeses rumbles on.  All in all, fantastic cheese. If you're into goat its all there, just not my bag!

I had been umming and ahhing between the chocolate tarte or rhubarb jelly for dessert but after the rich cholesterol cheese hit was relieved I’d gone for the jelly. Ginger granite started off with a lovely delicate flavour that spread into a buzzing warmth much more powerful than its appearance belied. Blood orange sorbet was rich in flavour but light in texture. The jelly itself packed a boozy punch. A really balanced and beautifully conceived dessert that I know I'm going to return to time and time again. I hear, however, that sometimes a tarte tatin makes an appearance on the dessert list. I'm hoping beyond hope that it will be on the menu when I visit one day as it has fans far and wide across London.  Pear and almond croustade consists of a wigwam shaped tent parcel of the thinnest filo pastry dusted in sugar that you crunch through to find soft pears and an almond puree. Cocoa nib ice cream balances the pears well, the nibs giving enough of a chocolatey hint without being overpowering.  Despite many jokes as to whether the camp ice cream that accompanies cannele comes with sparklers, a feather boa and a Liza Minnelli fanfare, it is delicious, not something I would have expected to enjoy but well matches the rich molten, Congolese chocolate. 

Every meal is rounded off with cocoa-dusted, soft chocolate truffles that you never think you have space for but somehow always manage it. 

I make no apologies if this write up borders on the sycophantic. Its hard to countenance using the word "perfect" in relation to any restaurant but there is truly nothing about a Medlar dining experience that I would change. There are rumours in the wind that the owners may be branching out in the future. If any new offering were just an ounce as good as Medlar then they are on to a winning formula. How often is a restaurant so good that you book your next visit before you leave? This one is. Despite the plethora of new places on my wish list in London at the moment I keep going back again and again.  See you soon Medlar!

Medlar
438 King's Road, London. SW10 0LJ
0207 349 1900

L'Epicure at Hotel Bristol, Paris

There is nowhere in the world that you will find 'cheap' three Michelin star dining. Value potentially but not cheap. From London to Tokyo to New York to Paris you know up front that you are letting yourself in for a hefty bill. Nowhere more so, in my experience, than France. There seems to be an acceptance with a Gallic shrug that when a Michelin star is awarded you can add another 25% to the bill each time. So once you reach three stars we're talking stratospheric pricing. That's why my posh Parisian outings are limited to once in a blue moon. Having been to Ledoyen a few years ago and adored it I wanted to try somewhere different but equally glamorous so opted for L'Epicure. Unlike top restaurants in London or New York you don't generally need to be on the phone months in advance at the very moment a booking line opens, in all cases I have managed to book tables at usually only a couple of days notice.

The usual home of L'Epicure within the Hotel Bristol is currently under renovation so the restaurant has temporarily moved from its habitual light and airy room to an altogether more glamorous, gilded oval salle on the ground floor of l'Hotel Bristol on the Rue St Honore.

As you come to expect with this type of haute cuisine, staff of one sort or another outweigh diners by around two to one.  During the meal we averaged four sommeliers between around 8 tables, 2 maitre d's and at least 10 waiters and waitresses.

Although you can get a seasonal daily three course menu for a "more reasonable" 130 Euros, I was acting on the basis that it was highly likely that I was only going to do this once so took the plunge and went for the very elaborate and detailed tasting menu.

Some confusion reigned however and elements were lost in translation. The french for sea urchin is 'oursin'. French for bear is 'ourson'. You know what's coming don't you? Yes, I asked the maitre d' if it was really the case that they were serving roast bear. Well anything's possible after horsegate isn't it? Apparently this is quite an unusual linguistic error that caused significant mirth amongst the waiting staff but then again sea urchin is not exactly normal every day fare is it?!

Before the 8 courses of tasting menu began however, came canapes. The thing that look like a green nipple on a spoon is a spherified blob of cucumber and yuzu juice (sweet but still acidic although the acid was tempered by the cooling cucumber), the white pot is a scallop cream with sweet citrus flavourings and the lollipop stick was a lobster piece rolled in curried breadcrumbs and saffron. 

The lollipop was definitely the highlight and had a little kick to it that contrasted well with the cucumber.  Served at the same time was a bacon, tomato and olive muffin which was well flavoured and executed but perhaps superfluous given the canapés and breadbasket but very, I'm not complaining if they want to give me more food!

It became clear throughout the meal that chef Eric Frechon has very much dipped his toe into the molecular gastronomy waters.  There were occasional doses of spherification, hell there was even a nitro frozen sorbet! For me it was the perfect balance between classic cuisine and forward thinking food. This contrast is also reflected in the decor, presentation and dress code. Whilst the room and the dress code (men must wear jackets at lunch as well as dinner) are both very traditional, the presentation of the food is for the most part extremely innovative and modern.

Bread. I've said it before and will say it again, I think you can tell a lot about a place from the quality of their bread and also whether it is made in house. As you would expect, at L'Epicure it is. Around 8 different breads were on offer in the main basket although other speciality breads accompanied particular courses. I opted for small thin baguette loaves with a really intense dark, smoky bacon flavour and chunks of lardon served with a choice of butters. My choice was the home made salted butter. Served alongside the bread tray were little bacon, tomato and olive muffins, unapologetic in their greasiness but bursting with flavour.

An amuse bouche was served of smoked salmon encapsulated in a herb jelly topped by sorrel mousse and salmon roe. The sorrel mousse had a much more powerful flavour than I had been expecting but as an amuse bouche was a balanced and tasty morsel although I think it would have been too much as a full sized starter portion.

CHATAIGNES DE MER
langues et écume d’oursins, fine brouillade d’œuf de poule 

The sea urchin came next. Despite having spent a few weeks in Japan I've never tried one before and was a little unsure in all honesty. Even now I'm not 100% decided either way as to whether I liked it or not, its a bit marmite in that I think it seems like something that you probably ought to love or hate. 

I've started to notice that a lot of high end restaurants around Europe are introducing more traditionally Japanese ingredients into their menus. At L'Epicure they were quite up front about it and confirmed it was due to the number of Japanese customers that they attract (during my visit two of the eight tables were Japanese and one of the waitresses also Japanese). Gauthier in London is the same, in fact they even now offer their website in Japanese.

The sea urchin itself was served two ways within a porcelain urchin shell. The shell was lined with a very creamy scrambled egg onto which pieces of sea urchin were placed. The individual pieces had a very soft, bubbly texture and a sweet meaty flavour not dissimilar to the sweetness found in scallops and lobster. This mixture was then topped off with what was described on the menu as a foam but was much denser and oleaginous than something you would think of as a foam. It had a very different flavour to the pieces of urchin in the eggs and was slightly more towards bitter. Not distasteful but definitely an acquired taste. The dish, although small, was very rich. 

On a separate plate was served a thin toast and a pat of butter wrapped like a toffee. The butter itself was probably one of the most curious elements of the entire dish made up of three different seaweeds and algae.

The following course was a duck foie poached in a smoked tea broth accompanied by crisp baby lettuce and warmed oysters. It arrived at the table gift wrapped in a giant cellophane parcel. Many of the dishes at L'Epicure involve a great deal of theatre. I had wished that someone would order the a la carte blue lobster or the crepe suzette for some true table-side cooking however what I did see was certainly enough to pique the interest of all the diners. If you order the Bresse chicken for two it came served in a giant white balloon with a knot of the top which frankly looked like an oversize haggis. This balloon was carried proudly through the dining room displayed on a giant silver salver with feet in the shape of chicken's feet before being cut open and sliced at the table.

FOIE GRAS DE CANARD  
cuit en papillote, huîtres et choux de Bruxelles, 
bouillon infusé au thé fumé. 

So back to the foie gras. The consomme style broth was so clear that it disguised a really incredible depth of flavour and smokiness. The foie was beautifully poached with only a slight wobble remaining in the centre. The biggest surprise of the dish was the brussel sprout leave from two perspectives. Firstly they didn't taste anything like the Christmas Day sprouts that I know and hate and secondly and how very well they retained the flavour of the smoke. The only let down in the dish was the warm oysters but then again that is solely because I hate oysters...

MERLAN DE LIGNE DE SAINT-GILLES CROIX-DE-VIE
en croûte de pain de mie, imprimé aux amandes, 
tétragone mi-cuite relevée au curry 

Next up on the agenda was a fish course of  whiting "en croute". The fish was billed as having been caught in St Gilles Croix de Vie. This throwaway fact brought back happy childhood memories for me of summer holidays in the Vendée. Many of the first French meals that I ever ate were in St Gilles and I have one particularly vivid memory of spending what felt like hooooouuuuurs waiting for my Dad to finish a plateau de fruit de mer well after I'd finished my steak haché and chips. But I'll give St Gilles one thing, they do do good fish. This particular one was moist and firm with a sweet flavour acting as an excellent base to the more pronounced flavours accompanying it. Although it had claimed to be en croute this manifested itself in the form of a topping of what may have been the thinnest slice of pain de mie that I had ever seen. Goodness only knows how they cut it so thin, it really must involve lasers or something. Anyway, this slice was so thin that you could actually read through it (believe me I tried and you could read the menu) and embedded with toasted almonds. The spring greens were quite salty and had a little peppery chilli kick to them but the best part of the dish was the curried oil.

COCHON FERMIER- cuisiné de la tête aux pieds,
écrasée de pomme ratte au beurre salé et truffe noire 

The main event was supposed to be a tete de veau according to the menu however, bearing in mind my porcine proclivities, I swapped this out for one of the chef's other signature dishes, the "Head to Toe" (or trotter) pig dish. Consisting of a roast chunk of pork belly, a sausage, skin, and trotter meat all served with a super sticky truffled butter sauce and a stick of crackling. I'm such a lover of truffles that ordinarily I can hunt the slightest trace of them out like a Piedmontese pig however despite clear evidence of brown chunks in the sauce, I have to admit to the sauce being devoid of truffle flavour for my palate. The sausage was tasty and mixed with nuts which added bite and variety to another wise meat heavy dish. The meat had a beautiful flavour however I would have liked the top of the pork belly cube and the piece of skin to have been crunchier .

The cheese trolley was as comprehensive as you would expect it to be although a bit goat heavy for my liking. 

Keeping my more gluttonous cheese instincts in check, I opted for the Fourme d'Ambert, some Livarot and a gooey blob of  St Felicien. I've always noticed that the Livarot has a distinctive band of  five rushes wound around the outside of the cheese to hold it together during maturation but hadn't realised that this unusual feature also provides the reason for its name. The "Livarot" means General and is so named as the band of rushes is though to resemble the five stripes on a General's epaulettes. There is little that I can say about the Fourme d'Ambert other than that it was an excellent example of what will always be one of my favourite cheeses. The St Felicien was incredibly runny to the point of having liquified in some places, its delicate paleness concealing the comparatively powerful flavour that it packs.

A very pretty, three element amuse bouche heralded the conclusion of the savoury sector of the meal. A ball of zesty orange sorbet sat perched atop a  rich, sticky blackcurrant compote; its depth of flavour and viscosity contrasting the light orange zing. A stick of a delicate violet meringue dipped in violet sugar crystals topped the sorbet. A perfectly balanced palate cleanser before the small matter of dessert to address.

Throughout lunch one of the tables near me had been occupied by a group of six French people who clearly had no idea what wine they were being served. Much swilling and sniffing, swishing and inspecting was taking place without a single bottle in sight. Wine was being served from what looked like a giant glass flask. Things took an even stranger turn when their next wine was served in pitch black Riedel glasses (I covet these things very much and they are resolutely on my 'one day' list) and I wanted to find out was going on. The head sommelier explained that the group were vignerons from Champagne who had set a budget and requested that the sommelier surprise them. This he did by starting with a 1995 Domaine Leflaive in the glass flask. The wine in the Riedel glasses was actually a light red chilled down to try and confuse the vignerons into believing it might be white. This cunning deception would have been all very well if one of them hadn't got a little over enthusiastic in his glass swishing and sloshed some very definitely red liquid onto the tablecloth. The final wine served to the group was a Jura vin de paille or 'straw wine'. The production method for this wine is not dissimilar to that used for vin santo in Italy in that the aim is to reduce the liquid in the grape as much as possible in order to ensure maximum sweetness remaining. Rather than being left on the vine the grapes are picked and left in the sun or in a warm hangar on a pile of straw (hence the 'vin paille'). At this point the sommelier decided I should join in the tasting game and have a go too. This particular example was a deep amber gold in colour with significant legs. A nose with intense bitter marmalade notes. A decent level of acidity helps to balance out the sweetness but acidity is not overharsh being tempered in your mouth by the warm alcohol glow. 

CITRON DE MENTON
givré au limoncello, aux saveurs de poire et citron confit 

The first dessert was a lemon thingy (yes that's a technical term). Lemon is one of those dessert ingredients that never grabs me and when there are a wide selection of other options on a dessert menu I would probably never choose. That said when its served to me I do seem to enjoy it.    If Heston has his meatfruit then Eric has his lemon- albeit that this one does actually taste of lemon.  An incredibly fine pale green lime flavoured sugar leaf topped the lemon. The 'lemon' itself is very light indeed and made up of nitro iced lemon sorbet that is almost powdery and explodes in your mouth coated in a sticky yellow lemon curd syrup. The centre of the lemon was a roast pear puree. Chunks of meringue around the plate add texture and crunch and a sweet contrast to the tart lemon.  Really utterly delicious and light as a feather.

CHOCOLAT PUR CARAÏBES- crémeux émulsion 
au caramel épicé, glace aux grains de café torréfiés. 

The second dessert came in the form of an iced coffee chocolate sorbet encased in a chocolate outer layered with ultra sticky caramel onto a gently spiced biscuit. A chocolate disc balanced on top of lengthy sputnik like spikes added to the avant garde appearance. The whole confection was then placed on a painted swirl of chocolate with a jug of hot chocolate poured onto it. In essence an ultra chocolatey, coffee, caramel plate of sticky goodness.

The petit fours were out of this world. It was like someone had wheeled over an explosion of the inside of Willy Wonka's imagination on a trolley. Orangettes, milk chocolates, dark truffles and other sweet bites sat in giant glass canisters whilst  huge, long, caramelised, buttery biscuit sticks towered over the trolley. A perspex case contained six flavours of macaron from raspberry to caramel and vanilla to chocolate. The highlight, however, was a long length of mint marshmallow coiled into a jar and lengths cut off with long handled silver scissors. Tempting as it was to ask for a take away to eat on the plane home, I resisted and opted the macaron, orangette and marshmallow.

At the end of the meal two silver spoons wobbled their way to the table containing glistening amber orbs sprinkled with gold leaf. Little flavour on the outside but bursting the jelly casing resulted in a mouthful of sweet, honeyed, earl grey flavoured liquid. I am dying to try some spherification at home and definitely have aspirations towards replicating these after dinner tea globes.

I have one gripe about the meal which prevents it from reaching perfection. I did um and ah for some time over which wine to choose and took advice from one of the sommeliers. I finally settled on a half bottle of Chassagne Montrachet.  It wasn't too old but was robust enough to stand up to the various different courses of the meal. The wine came wrapped in a napkin, I tried it, yummy white burgundy. No fruit here, it was all about the almonds and cream with distinct gentle oak notes. 

I was having a chat with the head sommelier towards the latter end of my meal and asked him if he though I'd made the right choice with my Chassagne. The response came: 'but you ordered the Meursault'. I didn't, this I am sure of.  I had considered a Meursault but at 50 euros more for a half bottle had disregarded it as overly extravagant. The problem was that I had debated it aloud albeit briefly so I had no way of proving what I had finally settled on and it didn't seem worth trying to argue it out in a mixture of French and English and spoil the meal.  I therefore cannot tell you anything whatsoever about where my half bottle of white came from other than the fact that it was white Meursault and cost rather a lot of money, more than I had intended paying in fact. I will never know whether it was an honest mistake caused by my prevaricating or a nifty switch to the more expensive option and I guess it doesn't matter as I did love the wine that I drank however it did add a slightly sour note to an otherwise beautiful experience.

In essence a fantastic meal that challenged my palate a little beyond its usual safety blankets but one or two niggles that kept it a step away from being perfection. A lot of emphasis is placed on visual perfection but the flavours behind the pretty plates more than match up. I also appreciated the twist on classical French haute cuisine brought in by use of the more scientific processes.

Epicure
112 rue du Faubourg Saint Honoré
75008 Paris
+33 (0)1 53 43 43 40