Boulestin, 55 St Jame’s Street, London SW1A 1EF

Boulestin, 55 St Jame’s Street, London SW1A 1EF

29/09/2013

www.boulestin.com

She said: We visited Boulestin when it had recently opened and before the run of newspaper reviews (which have since come out with all sorts of high falutin analyses). First impressions were good. You enter through a causal but inviting café which serves a selection of the restaurant dishes in a more informal setting and pass into an elegant, calm restaurant with green banquettes and crisp white tablecloths. A long skylight creates an open and bright space to the room. Service was friendly and attentive. The menu had a wide choice of dishes for all tastes and prices were reasonable for Mayfair. I ordered a mushroom risotto for main as I had my eye on a chocolate dessert. While we were waiting the maitre d’ chatted about the new space and expressed disappointment on some luke-warm reviews which he said had criticised the ‘concept’ which confused me as this place didn’t involve rocket science: dining room; food; service; price. Nothing profound to get your head round. Anyway, my risotto was fine. A decent serving but nothing to write home about. He pre-ordered the ‘Tarte legere aux pommes’ which takes 20-minutes which I ended up swapping my chocolate terrine with. The terrine was fine, a chequer-board of white and dark chocolate atop a chocolate sponge – it’s just I prefer less sponge and more chocolate. The apple tart was yummy. Boulestin is a lovely space with good service and an interesting menu but at £35 per head for a main and desert (and his main salad portion was tiny!) and the absence of a set lunch menu option, I’d need to think twice about coming back.

He said: Boulestin is the perfect St. James’s restaurant. Classic and classy but with none of that Wilton’s establishment thing, which is as passé as that grand dame is old. For an area which is authentically old school, it’s remarkable how few ‘proper’ restaurants there are in St. James’s. Maybe the old boys just like eating at the club better. Me, I have no club and a lot of meetings in the area, and I’m often stuck for somewhere that doesn’t have bondage photos on the walls  (Wheeler’s), is not in hotel, or is not incredibly noisy (most places). This is not going to be everyone’s cup of tea, but I love that Boulestin doesn’t play any muzak; sonic ambience has it’s time and place, but I do like being able to have an actual conversation with someone. Now the food: the bloody Mary was spot-on (no ice!); the main artichoke salad was so mean at £12.50 that I did wonder if it was physically possible to serve as smaller starter version; my tarte aux pommes was so exactly what I wanted that I ordered it with the main, except that I didn’t get it because She pounced on it. Woe betide the poor knave who is nearby when She has had a disappointing desert day! Since we’d only had two courses each, coffees, and drinks, I was actually surprised when the bill came in at £72. Lunch is currently Boulestin’s cash cow, so I can understand not discounting with a set lunch, but that’s a big mistake. Still, (small) warts and all, Boulestin is my favourite place in that neighbourhood.

The Hardwick, Old Raglan Road, Abergavenny, Wales, NP7 9AA

The Hardwick, Old Raglan Road, Abergavenny, Wales, NP7 9AA

22/09/2013

www.thehardwick.co.uk

She said: I’d spent the day before doing ‘Tough Mudder’ which essentially involved lots of mud, electric shocks, ice water and climbing walls (for 3 hours) so I wanted to indulge our trip to Wales with a good Sunday lunch. The Hardwick was an excellent pick and lives up to its reputation. The pub looks like any other from the outside and is located on the B4598 but as you pass the ‘mind your head’ sign in the drinking area, the space opens up into a series of dining rooms. We were seated in the most modern and open room at the end which was my favourite. There was a wide selection of great sounding dishes to pick from as well as a set menu. Service was brusque and we had different people serving us throughout the meal as the restaurant filled up over the course of our stay. Looking around, you could tell this was a local favourite and a place people dress us for to enjoy good food. And good it was. I started with a goats cheese salad which was creamy and a good intro. For mains I opted for the Plaice with brown shrimp, greens and mash. The fish was a generous portion and very tasty. My dessert was the perfect ending – a spectacular ‘Valrhona Chocolate Mousse & Millionaires' Shortbread with White Chocolate Ice Cream & Brownie Crumble, Chocolate Popping Candy and Sea Salted Caramel Sauce’. That is how to make a desert. And the coffee came on time with the dessert as requested – impressive. Now I understand all the fuss about going out for a Sunday pub lunch. The meal was reasonable at £30 per person making me wish the Hardwick wasn’t stuck on a B-road in Wales but closer to home. If you happen to be anywhere near the country, I recommend stopping in for a while and treating yourself.

He said: The Hardwick came at the tail end of an amazing weekend in Wales; we stopped here for lunch, to pacify ourselves ahead of the 3hr+ traffic-chocked drive home. My enduring memory was of everyone around us speaking Welsh. Very cool, and a bit like having a stroke, maybe: everything visually was very familiar, but none of the sounds made any sense. Hardwick is your classic Bastion of Culinary Excellence for all those wise folk who have decided to escape the big smoke of Cardiff. It’s incredible how well you can eat in these far-flung places where expense-account dining is the exception. It’s not all Chicken Shacks and micro-waved Chinese; maybe fine dining is the reason that Britain is in the grip of a diabetes epidemic. In which case Hardwick should be at the top of the list for its share of the NHS bill. The room itself is no big deal – the usual converted formerly-something-else on a B road. But the food! Hardwick clearly cares about exciting the punters, not with Blumenthal razzle-dazzle, but with top-quality, seasonal ingredients and vibrant presentation. I had a posh bruschetta, made with funky-coloured heirloom tomatoes and home-made bread, followed by feather-light gnocchi in a tomato sauce livened-up with asparagus pumpkin and goats cheese. Great value at £30 with coffee and chocolates. 3hrs is a long way to go for a meal, so I don’t expect that either you or I will be going any time soon. But I’d be here regularly if I was a local; just have to work out how to pronounce this cryptic language… 

Massimo, Corinthia Hotel, 10 Northumberland Avenue, London WC2N 5AE

Massimo Restaurant and Oyster Bar, Corinthia Hotel, 10 Northumberland Avenue, London WC2N 5AE

07/09/2013

http://corinthia.com/hotels/london/

She said: We tried coming here a few weeks ago on a Sunday but alas it is not open on Sundays…So we returned on a Saturday with our dining card 2-4-1 discount in hand. Massimo is a stunning, palatial dining space. Imposing Corinthian columns, bold yet elegant lighting, brown leather banquettes, crisp linen table cloths, shimmering bar, and a golden hue throughout the room. I was excited to get stuck in to the menu. I jumped straight into mains and after finding it difficult to choose from so many delicious sounding options I picked a tagliolini with crab and chilli which was perfectly cooked pasta with a juicy chilli oil and succulent crab flakes. I was so impressed, wondering why the place was practically empty and already planning a return. Although tight on time the dessert menu was too tempting so I ordered the chocolate fondant and was assured it would take 15 minutes. 25 minutes later a very dry lump of sponge looked up at me from a large plate and when I took a spoon to it hoping that the molten goodness would flow out my heart sank as a tiny glue-like chocolate sat stuck to the crumbling sponge. Clearly this was overcooked and I was sorely disappointed. The minor consolation was 50% off the bill so we paid £42 for two courses and soft drinks – not the best value if paying full price. Dining at Massimo was like dining in two different restaurants – 10 out of 10 for the first half and a classy experience, 0 out of 10 for the second half and I wish I had got a coffee and cake at any one of the many nearby patisseries instead. Incidentally, customer responsiveness could do with some work; when I informed the waiter the fondant was overcooked and barely edible which was a shame given how good the mains were, he didn’t know what to say – literally, he just stood there nodding as he took payment. The friendly greeting we received on arrival was marked by any acknowledgement whatsoever as we left our table and the restaurant to a hum of silence.

He said: 99% of restaurants included in Discount Dining cards, like Gourmet Society or Taste London, are chains or run-of-the-mill places. But it pays to look hard at the membership list, because every so often a Destination Restaurant slips in: the kind of place with that ‘wow’ factor, where you take someone to celebrate, propose, or break-up (because it’s just too nice to make a fuss in). Massimo is a hell of a good looking restaurant: cathedral-height ceilings, huge windows, flash but still just the right side of classy. We were on our way to see a show, so had time for a main and a desert. I opted for ‘organic barley penne with borrage and shaved ricotta because’: 1) what is borrage? 2) you can shave ricotta? 3) why is this pasta dish so expensive yet vegetarian? I’m none the wiser about the price: the ‘taste to price’ ratio was all wrong. In the 50+ posts written to date I don’t think I dissed the food very often – I generally give the kitchen the benefit of the doubt. But this dish made no sense to me. It’s bland, health-freak type stuff – the kind of dish loved by the likes of Moby, I imagine. So I decided to balance this out with a blow-out, indulgent desert. ‘Mont Blanc Pavlova’, that will do it. Doesn’t that just conjure up the best vision of a mountain of meringue, floating on a giant cloud of cream, and scattered with red fruit symbolizing the crushed bodies of fallen climbers? But no, instead my hopes were crushed, when the saddest pavlova I have ever seen was plopped on the table. It’s like Tommy being promised an Xbox by drunk Santa at the mall, but getting a book of Sudoku Christmas morning. It took me a while to get over the disappointment; in fact I ate the whole thing without actually tasting a single spoon. But you know what: that room is so great, I would still go back, armed with a 2-for-1 card, now that I know the menu is written by a fantasist. Stick to the tried and tested and at that price you can’t go wrong.

Orrery, 55 Marylebone High Street, London W1U 5RB

Orrery, 55 Marylebone High Street, London W1U 5RB

02/09/2013

www.orrery-restaurant.co.uk

She said: the mother-in-law was in town and treating us so I wanted something chic, local and not too pricey. I was delighted to note the Menu du Jour on the Orrery website at £26 for three courses. Perfect. When we arrived at this D&D London-owned eatery on a beautiful summer’s evening and ascended to the smart, spacious dining room above the Conran furniture store, we were ecstatic to be offered a table on the stunning outdoor roof terrace. Our faces and moods descended at speed when we were presented with the menu which offered a choice of a £49 set menu for 3 courses or a £60 ‘Gourmand’ menu. I felt embarrassed knowing his mother would want to throw me off the roof for picking this place knowing she was paying. But after collecting myself and knowing I am always right, I signalled the waiter and asked about the £26 set menu. He wandered off and returned with this menu. When we asked why he had neglected to give us this menu (interjected by my mother-in-law saying ‘because he has been trained not to’) he muttered some nonsense about this offer being available through a partner promotion – despite me saying it was listed on the menu section of their own website. It then turned even more ‘Fawlty Towers’ when I asked if there was an a la carte menu to which the waiter pointed back to the £49 and £60 menu. ‘But these are set menus for 3 courses…what if I just want a main’ I innocently asked. ‘Yes you can have just a main’ he replied. ‘But how much are the main dishes – they are not individually priced’ I promoted. ‘Mmm, well you can say between £20 to £25 for mains and between £15 to £18 for starters’. As he left we all stared at each other in disbelief and burst out laughing wondering when we entered the Twilight Zone. The waiter returned to present a corked wine to ‘him’ and when ‘he said’ it smelt funny the waiter returned with a new wine and a sarcastic offering of ‘it wasn’t funny it was obviously corked’.  Setting aside the ridiculous charade above, the food, setting and price (as excruciating as it was to obtain) was fantastic. I ordered from the £26 menu (!) and had a mackerel starter, a Provencal stuffed vegetable main and roasted fig dessert. Good portions and flavours. The meal was interspersed with various amuse bouche including delicious chocolate truffles with our bill. The rooftop was wonderfully peaceful and atmospheric; it’s rare to find such a spot in London. Orrery really is a wonderful place. Don’t let the outrageous behaviour above put you off – just remember to ask for all the menus and give your wine a good sniff.

He said: another day another walk down memory lane. We’d tried this local years ago after a particularly bad day, figuring that every bad should be balanced by a good. This time the family was in town, which wasn’t so bad but still a nice meal was in order. The big draw of Orrery for me is the roof terrace, up a flight of stairs from the main room, and with seating just half dozen tables. This secluded spot with a view of tree tops and sky has got to be among the best in central London; no pickpockets, no junkies begging for a ‘fare home’, no irritating mime artists trying to break out of their damned box. Just peace, and tasty eats. The food was exactly what you’d expect; at the upper end and towards the French side of the Conran-style kitchen. Service was excellent, but the waiter had clearly been briefed by management to present only the degustation menu at £50-60. She’d done her homework and knew all about the great-value £26 set menu. Getting it, and more info on the mysteriously-price a la carte was pure comedy. Then the carafe of wine arrived, smelling so much of Mo Farah’s socks that no-one opening the bottle could’ve missed it was corked… It all started looking a lot like an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm. This is not a place to go if you’ve just finished your anger management course. On principle I would never go back to Orrery just for that unforgivable fleece-the-punters stunt. But despite their best efforts we still had a really good meal at Orrery and I would recommend it – just keep calm.