La Petite Maison, 54 Brook's Mews, Londn W1K 4EG
7/04/12
http://lpmlondon.co.uk/
She said... I'd wondered past the unassuming outside many a time and wondered what all the fuss was about but 'he' said it was Sarkozy's favourite restaurant when he was in town and a highly rated French eatery so we finally made a booking for the Easter weekend. He was right. From start to finish it was perfection: The dining room sparkled with starched table cloths, shimmering cutlery, shiny mirrors at the bar, sunny yellow walls and smart waiters donning bow ties and striped aprons; the service was attentive without being intrusive; and the food was just perfect. I started with an onion tart which came on a thin, fine pastry that melted in my mouth. I followed this with a fillet of seabass which came with a crunchy artichoke topping and juicy cherry tomatoes. The side of broccoli was again the perfect accompaniment. Despite having 30 minutes to make it across town to the theatre, we had to order pudding; the only slight smudge on an otherwise shining experience is that I asked for my coffee to come at the same time as pudding (this is a recurring and ultimate test of mine for all restaurants - can they bring the pudding and coffee at the same time - after all, the bitterness of the coffee is always the best compliment to a sweet dessert) and unfortunately a delicious and large latte arrived when I had almost finished a heavenly warm chocolate mouse. However, even heaven must have it flaws. The bill (£136 for two) wasn't a bargain but I would come back here again and would recommend La Petite Maison for anyone wanting something special.
He said... I walk through Brook's Mews most days on the way to and from work, past the usually open door to La Petite Maison's kitchen, and see the gang prepping for service. It's amazing how many people you can fit into a small kitchen, and still nobody stabbing each other or similar Hell's Kitchen antics. Clearly as much space as possible was given over to the dining room, which is just as well: even on a Saturday lunch the place was packed to the gills, mostly with the well-heeled gang from far-flung lands that we hear about snapping up all of Mayfair and Belgravia. The vibe was very relaxed, no-one seemed out to prove anything about the size of their portfolio. And service was distinctly un-Gallic: attentive, genuine, and efficient. Reading the menu made me say a silent prayer that it could really all be as good as it looked on paper. It's always a good sign that you're planning your next visit before the first bite, but as most battle-hardened mothers love to say 'don't hope for too much and you won't be disappointed'. In the end I figured I'm in a Provencal restaurant, so let's see how they manage the old classic cod provencal, and I kicked things off with the beignets of courgette flowers with anchovies. These were just OK -- a little light on anchovies; I only found two. But the cod was just awesome: everyone of the component flavours was turned up to 11, intense tomato, olive, caper etc. flavours and just enough spice. I would have this dish again and again. Desert was an apple tarte fine, with the crust as described and the apples sliced very thinly. This was delicious but at £9.50 too expensive. My only gripe with the whole thing is the price, but you know that before going in, and so you go in with very high expectations which somehow these guys manage to match and even excede. I can't wait to go back. By the way, the tables are pretty tightly packed, which may not suit everyone, but this is not such a big deal now that anti-smoking law means you won't have clouds of Gauloise blown your way; there are one or two duff tables near the door.
7/04/12
http://lpmlondon.co.uk/
She said... I'd wondered past the unassuming outside many a time and wondered what all the fuss was about but 'he' said it was Sarkozy's favourite restaurant when he was in town and a highly rated French eatery so we finally made a booking for the Easter weekend. He was right. From start to finish it was perfection: The dining room sparkled with starched table cloths, shimmering cutlery, shiny mirrors at the bar, sunny yellow walls and smart waiters donning bow ties and striped aprons; the service was attentive without being intrusive; and the food was just perfect. I started with an onion tart which came on a thin, fine pastry that melted in my mouth. I followed this with a fillet of seabass which came with a crunchy artichoke topping and juicy cherry tomatoes. The side of broccoli was again the perfect accompaniment. Despite having 30 minutes to make it across town to the theatre, we had to order pudding; the only slight smudge on an otherwise shining experience is that I asked for my coffee to come at the same time as pudding (this is a recurring and ultimate test of mine for all restaurants - can they bring the pudding and coffee at the same time - after all, the bitterness of the coffee is always the best compliment to a sweet dessert) and unfortunately a delicious and large latte arrived when I had almost finished a heavenly warm chocolate mouse. However, even heaven must have it flaws. The bill (£136 for two) wasn't a bargain but I would come back here again and would recommend La Petite Maison for anyone wanting something special.
He said... I walk through Brook's Mews most days on the way to and from work, past the usually open door to La Petite Maison's kitchen, and see the gang prepping for service. It's amazing how many people you can fit into a small kitchen, and still nobody stabbing each other or similar Hell's Kitchen antics. Clearly as much space as possible was given over to the dining room, which is just as well: even on a Saturday lunch the place was packed to the gills, mostly with the well-heeled gang from far-flung lands that we hear about snapping up all of Mayfair and Belgravia. The vibe was very relaxed, no-one seemed out to prove anything about the size of their portfolio. And service was distinctly un-Gallic: attentive, genuine, and efficient. Reading the menu made me say a silent prayer that it could really all be as good as it looked on paper. It's always a good sign that you're planning your next visit before the first bite, but as most battle-hardened mothers love to say 'don't hope for too much and you won't be disappointed'. In the end I figured I'm in a Provencal restaurant, so let's see how they manage the old classic cod provencal, and I kicked things off with the beignets of courgette flowers with anchovies. These were just OK -- a little light on anchovies; I only found two. But the cod was just awesome: everyone of the component flavours was turned up to 11, intense tomato, olive, caper etc. flavours and just enough spice. I would have this dish again and again. Desert was an apple tarte fine, with the crust as described and the apples sliced very thinly. This was delicious but at £9.50 too expensive. My only gripe with the whole thing is the price, but you know that before going in, and so you go in with very high expectations which somehow these guys manage to match and even excede. I can't wait to go back. By the way, the tables are pretty tightly packed, which may not suit everyone, but this is not such a big deal now that anti-smoking law means you won't have clouds of Gauloise blown your way; there are one or two duff tables near the door.
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