The Blue Print Café has been high on my list of places to visit for some time now. I very much respect chef Jeremy Lee's principles of seasonal produce cooked simply, so the other day two friends and I met there for dinner. Unexpectedly, we left rather underwhelmed.
The Blue Print Café sits on the 1st floor of The Design Museum in Shad Thames, right by Tower Bridge. The large glass windows frame an impressive panorama over the river. This view and the comfortable, stylish dinning room decorated seasonally with small pumpkins and other harvest fruits make the restaurant a very pleasant place to be. The service, however, was not quite as smart as the surroundings. Nobody was rude, we were neither hurried nor kept waiting, but a few small things added up to leave us less than satisfied.
After a fairly long walk in the November drizzle we arrived pretty hungry. Tasty sourdough bread was quick to appear once we'd taken our seats but the instant we had polished off one small slice each, our bread plates were whisked out from under our noses. Normally I expect bread to be available at least until the main course, but we were left without hope of a second morsel long before out starters arrived.
On the menu, Salt Mallard with Pickled Prunes and Cherries sounded very interesting - I ordered it almost without hesitation. On the plate though, the dish fell a little flat. Presented somewhat untidily, the duck was tasty but a little dry - the pickled fruits were sharp and delicious but didn't provide enough juice to moisten the meat and the wodge of un-dressed watercress did little to help.
A Warm Smoked Eel Sandwich was very tasty - the oily richness nicely offset by thinly sliced, vinegary red onion pickle. The otherwise excellent dish was let down by the fact that it was barely warm - it was as though it had hung around for a bit before finding it's way to the table.
The third starter was Razor Clams with a Parsley Crust. The sweet, delicate flavour of the clam flesh was sadly over-shadowed by the grit hiding in the shells beneath it. Explaining this to the head waiter was not as easy as you might expect. He didn't seem to understand what my friend meant when he politely complained and eventually he had to be very blunt: ''There is now sand in my mouth.'' The dish was taken away, only for another waiter to appear a few minutes later - evidently the problem was still not understood:
''Sorry, what was wrong with your starter?''
''I'm afraid there was some grit in the clams.''
''Are you sure? The herb topping is quite crispy and…''
''No no, it was definitely quite sandy - it wasn't the breadcrumbs.''
''Ok… would you like to try it without the crust this time?''
''No thank you! I'm happy with the crust… just without the grit please.''
It was all a bit patronising. The clams reappeared - grit free - and were very tasty. To their credit, this dish was removed from the bill without us having to ask.
Of the main courses, Skate with Brown Butter and Capers was very well cooked and very generously capered.
Venison was mildly flavoured and perfectly pink but served with the same pickled prunes and clump of watercress as my starter. A bit of sauce would have been nice.
When choosing the main courses, my companions were advised to order some vegetables as their dishes didn't come with accompaniments. I was told that, as my ''Grouse & co.'' came with plenty of traditional accoutrements, I should be fine without extras.
The Grouse sat on a fairly small plate alongside a handful of game chips, a small mound of fried breadcrumbs, a square of toast with the bird's liver spread on it and yet another sheaf of naked watercress. Perhaps, I thought to myself, I should have ordered some veg after all. The 1st problem with this dish was a practical one. I like to think that, as a keen cook (and qualified veterinary surgeon), I can carve a roast bird with decent enough skill and dexterity; but it turned out to be impossible to butcher the grouse without it sliding around on the little plate scattering game chips across the table in all directions. With hindsight, I should have asked for a sharp knife rather than trying to make do with the bluntish one I had been given.
While on the subject of 'game chips', I've never really seen the point in them. They are, in essence, just crisps. I know they're traditional, but they get in the way, you need to put your knife and fork down to eat them, they don't soak up any of the juices… perhaps I'm missing something. Although, I suppose I ordered the dish, they were on the menu in black and white: I can't really complain.
The liver on toast was truly delicious - rich and unashamedly gamey. The meat from the bird, once I had eventually dismembered it, was succulent, pink and tasty. However, the small amount of dark grey juice that seeped from within the cavity was profoundly bitter and burnt-tasting leaving me to wonder if it had been washed out before cooking. I found myself carefully steering pieces of meat around the plate to avoid puddles of juice rather than mopping them up eagerly as I had expected to. The pleasant bread sauce and redcurrant jelly served with the dish did well enough to mask the unwanted flavour of any pieces that had been tainted.
While on the subject of 'game chips', I've never really seen the point in them. They are, in essence, just crisps. I know they're traditional, but they get in the way, you need to put your knife and fork down to eat them, they don't soak up any of the juices… perhaps I'm missing something. Although, I suppose I ordered the dish, they were on the menu in black and white: I can't really complain.
The liver on toast was truly delicious - rich and unashamedly gamey. The meat from the bird, once I had eventually dismembered it, was succulent, pink and tasty. However, the small amount of dark grey juice that seeped from within the cavity was profoundly bitter and burnt-tasting leaving me to wonder if it had been washed out before cooking. I found myself carefully steering pieces of meat around the plate to avoid puddles of juice rather than mopping them up eagerly as I had expected to. The pleasant bread sauce and redcurrant jelly served with the dish did well enough to mask the unwanted flavour of any pieces that had been tainted.
Desserts were also a mixed bag. The highlight was a St. Emilion au Chocolat - a rich, mousse-like chocolate tart - opulent and unctuous.
An Almond Tart with Baked Fig was also good, although the fig wasn't quite sharp enough to cut the very sweet filling making it hard to finish.
My Rum Baba with Orange Curd was less enjoyable. The sponge was light, the curd was tasty and the ice cream well made, but the thin sugar-water that the whole affair was drowning in was devoid of flavour and I was unable to detect the merest whiff of rum. I left most of it.
All in all this was a fairly lack-lustre meal. An interesting, decently priced, seasonal menu was sorely let down by the fact that only the skate and chocolate pudding (i.e. the two safest dishes) were without fault.
I would like to think that The Blueprint Café was having a bad evening and that the chefs and waiters are capable of doing the menu and the view better justice… but there are a lot of other places I'd like to eat at before I would consider giving them a second chance. A shame, as I had been rather hoping this might become a regular haunt.
