Uncle M was soon to arrive in London from New York. This normally merits booking a new, fancy restaurant, as he is not often in London and loves the restaurants here. Well, the kind of restaurants which I suppose you could say are at the moment unique to London (favourites include St John, Le Cafe Anglais, etc.) So, we booked the recent opening of chef Bruno Loubet, about which many good things have already been written. As the good reviews kept appearing, my excitement built up, along with slight glee at the thought that we had booked at just the right time to avoid being told there would not be a table for weeks.
A familiar problem to many arose in the form of an ash cloud within our air-space, meaning Uncle M would not make it to London in time for the restaurant booked in honour of his presence. Sadness all around.
Oh well, we went anyway. Sorry Uncle M, you did miss out on a pretty damn good meal. If you're reading, and for anyone else who needs persuading to splash out a tad and try this, here's how it went:
We arrived early and went through the hotel lobby to the restaurant area. The hotel, incidentally, based on appearances and the friendliness of reception staff, seems extremely nice and is very well situated. The Parisian maitre'd was very attentive, and patient with our indecisiveness as to whether to try something from the interesting selection of cocktails or to head straight to our table and get started on wine. We chose the latter, and were seated between the semi-open kitchen and the long bar.
We tried a bottle of 'White Mullet', an Australian blend of Riesling and a few other grapes, to go with our starters. All of them on the menu sounded appealling: I was tempted by mackerel and piccalilli tart with green gazpacho dressing, but I was too intrigued to pass up the guinea-fowl boudin blanc. It sat atop a pale green, foamy 'leek fondue' with chervil, which made the dish fresher than I expected. The boudin itself was nicely browned and crisp on the outside but inside, perfectly smooth, the texture almost of a souffle.
A skate terrine ordered by my mother was delicious with a gribiche sauce, and my dad's snails and meatballs was an exciting combination with lots of big flavours. The starter I had thought sounded the most boring was the Lyonnaise salad which L ordered. As a simple starter it was actually beautifully done, with a poached egg and some potato croquette fingers stuffed with ham.
Our main course choices didn't provide much variety unfortunately, as three of us opted for the quail and pistachio dodine, with my mother sticking to fish with a salmon confit (she's on a diet). The boneless bird was utterly tender, rich and juicy with a sweet and nutty stuffing. The egg-yolk and spinach raviolo was fresh tasting, and a great accompaniment.
Finally, the dessert menu came with excellent choices again. We liked the sound of rice pudding panacotta with marmalade, although dad claimed it sounded too breakfast-y and so simply couldn't fathom eating it when it was clearly 'dinner'. L ordered a selection of ice creams, which I presume were good; they were finished too quickly for me to try. Dad and I shared a quince mille-feuille. I don't know whether it was the sheer sweetness of the quince, or perhaps the orange blossom flavour that reminded me so very much of France, specifically a particular French sweet shop I have spent much time in. It was a lovely interpretation of the classic French patisserie treat, with fat chunks of the fruit holding up the sheets of pastry. I did not know anything about Bruno Loubet but I am certainly glad that he is 'back' on the restaurant scene, even though I probably won't revisit until it's justifiable to spend student loans on fine dining, or perhaps when Michael M is next in town - if this has whetted his apetite.
Bistro Bruno Loubet
The Zetter Hotel
St John's Square
86-88 Clerkenwell Road
No comments:
Post a Comment