Never have I eaten anywhere with more hype than 'Dinner by Heston Blumenthal'. Ever since he announced that The Fat Duck would be gaining a cousin in London, people have been talking about it. Then the news came that it would showcase hestonised versions of antique British recipes and the intrigue and excitement grew. Finally 'Dinner' opened in the Mandarin Oriental amid much fanfare about swiss-designed clockwork spit-roasts and bespoke jelly-mould shaped light fittings and the 1st of the reports began to filter through. All the usual suspects seemed to have a table at Dinner within the 1st few weeks, and the reviews they penned were stellar - hardly a bad word was said. I had to get a table - and soon!
Securing that reservation was not an easy job as it turned out. My friend (and unofficial photographer) spent 5 hours on the phone 3 months in advance to get us a reservation for 3 and the countdown began. In the last few weeks, however, a few less favourable reviews started to creep in and I began to wonder whether the experience would live up to its billing. The 3 months scurried past and yesterday three of us found ourselves crossing the marble threshold of the gaudy Mandarin Oriental in Knightsbridge.
After a short wait, we were shown to our table near the huge windows which make up one wall of the restaurant and provide a view over Hyde park. Another wall is taken up by the glass panels surrounding the open-plan kitchen - including that swiss-watch-driven spit, complete with glistening, amber, spiral-carved pineapples slowly revolving in the corner. The decor is simple for the most part, lots of dark wood and grey upholstery, but the numerous glowing jelly moulds keep things from seeming too serious.
It is not often you come across cocktail ingredients such as red icewine, sage and aged plum eau-de-vie - so we each enjoyed a delicious concoction from the bar menu while we argued about what to order from the menu. The problem with such an intriguing menu, is that no-one wants to order the same as someone else but everyone wants to try everything. The waiters were beaming and friendly and happy to explain - often in lengthy detail - what went into each dish (the menu descriptions are as diaphanous and cheffy as you might expect). At length, and while enthusiastically tucking in to pleasantly chewy sourdough and unpasteurised butter, we each managed to agree on a starter and one extra dish (the now iconic Meat Fruit), and had decided on a main and pudding each.
We were a little disappointed that there were no amuses bouche (after all, it is 'that kind of place') but brushed this feeling off quickly as the 1st course appeared minutes later.
My roast bone marrow came minced with anchovy and parsley, served within a halved, cleaned bone alongside crisp pickled baby veg. It was somehow rich yet delicate and had the flavour of the rendered, crispy fat on the side of a good steak.
The 'Broth Of Lamb' sitting opposite me comprised a collection of crisp radishes and baby leaves, crispy golden nuggets of deep-fried sweetbreads and a slow cooked egg, at the table this was ceremoniously baptised with a crystal clear, deep tawny consommé. The liquor was powerfully flavoursome and once the egg yolk had begun to mix with it, it took on a silky texture. The crunchy, breaded sweetbreads were described as 'like perfect fast food'.
My other companion chose the 'Salagamundy' - a warm salad of slow-cooked chicken-oysters, bone marrow, horseradish and parsnips. The variety of textures and the perfectly matched flavours made this dish one of the best of the whole meal.
I think every review that I have read has mentioned the Meat Fruit, a part of me wanted to break with conformity and eschew it entirely but we saw several walking past us (in fact I'm fairly certain every table in the house was adorned with one at some point) and in the end we gave in. When it appeared, it did really look just like a mandarin - there is no denying the presentation was brilliant.
The chicken liver parfait inside the mandarin jelly skin was very smooth, very light and very tasty - we happily scraped the board for every last smear of it but on reflection we agreed that it was no more than a well made pâté in a cunning disguise. I think, had we not seen it on TV and in a hundred reviews and were not expecting to get… exactly what we got… we may have been a lot more impressed.
Onto the mains. My spiced pigeon breasts were deep pink all the way through, juicy and extremely tender. The flavour was quite mild - squab pigeon I think, and therefore not too gamey - but strong enough to stand up to the rich ale reduction and the artichoke hearts it was served with.
Chris' roast cod was golden and crisp on top but unbelievably moist and bouncy within, reportedly the most skilfully cooked fish he'd eaten. The creamy cider and mussel sauce was beautiful.
Seb's duck legs had been brined, slow cooked and then glazed and roasted. The sweet, succulent meat needed very little encouragement to fall from the bone and the smoked fennel it was served with was an interesting foil.
This dish was served with an ample portion of potato purée making it considerably more filling than the other two dishes. Chris and I were glad of the tripple-cooked fries we ordered. Also, sadly, the potato purée was over seasoned; not to the point of being unpleasant but enough for us to mention it to our waitress. This was the only example of non-perfect cooking we encountered - and hardly a major transgression.
In an effort to limit costs a little, we decided to nurse our cocktails for a while and wait until the main course for wine. This presented the biggest problem of the evening and my only real source of genuine complaint. The wine list is extensive but it is irritatingly overpriced. I didn't count them, but I got the impression that there were more bottles priced in 4 figures than there were for under £100. Needless to say, in a restaurant like this, in a hotel like this, the fat-cats and show-offs must be catered for. It would be silly not to list the Château Latours and Chateau d'Yquems that people expect to see but we struggled to find an affordable bottle that would complement our meal. That said, the Sommelier was excellent, she took into account that we were eating a mix of game and white fish between us (which pretty much limited us to the light, low-tannin reds) and that we did not want to spend more than double-figures on a bottle and we eventually agreed on a 2005 Nuits-St-Georges for £95. It was perfect. Fragrant with red cherries and oak leaves and with very light, fine tannins giving a supple, silky mouthfeel.
Puddings arrived after a little break to finish our wine. My burnished, spit-roast pineapple was tender and full to bursting with sweet and sour juice. It accompanied a 'Tipsy Cake': six little pillows of soft sponge nestling in a small iron pot which, when disturbed, oozed custard indignantly. Clever, delightful comfort food that brought a huge smile to my face.
The Chocolate bar sitting to my right was an oblong of smooth, intense ganache and sharp passion fruit gel alongside a light, fine-textured ginger ice-cream. The ice-cream tasted as though it had been made with milk rather than cream - very refreshing alongside the rich chocolate.
The third pudding was the most interesting and the second stand-out dish of the meal. the 'Taffety Tart' was almost like a millefeuille - a stunning, beautiful, layered construction comprising many and varied flavours all playing off one another: spiced apple, fennel, black currant, rose, chocolate and probably more.
We each chose a dessert wine by the glass. An intense Szamorodniy Tokaii with a strong backbone of acidity to balance it's golden-syrup sweetness was perfect for my tipsy cake. A perfumed, honeyed Sauternes from Ch. Suduiraut's second label was complex enough for the Taffety Tart and a dark, luscious, christmas-cakey Pedro Ximenez sherry stood up to the intense flavours of the chocolate bar. Again, consummate recommendations from our lovely Sommelier.
After dessert, our waiter brought us each a tiny teacup containing a small, pale brown blob. He explained that 'Heston is a great lover of tea and likes everyone to have a cup'. The white chocolate and Earl Grey ganache in the cup was extremely sweet and cloying. Chris and I found it quite unpleasant and couldn't eat it. It was served with a crumbly caraway biscuit - this was slightly salted - I guess to cut the intense sweetness of the ganache, but for 2 of us it wasn't enough. It rather ruined the aftertaste of the pineapple and Tokaii. Our sweet-toothed companion, however enjoyed his and happily finished ours too, so I suppose it's a matter of taste rather than poor judgement in the kitchen. However, when mentioned to the waiter that we found it too sweet we felt a bit fobbed-off with the flat reply 'It's supposed to be like that.'
The Maitre D' spotted Seb taking snaps of the food and asked if we were planning to write about our experience. When he heard about the blog, he arranged for us to be taken on a brief tour of the kitchen area. We stood for a while at the pass and saw the dishes being plated with impressive, calm deftness - despite every table being full, the chefs all seemed to be unflustered and methodical. Some of them were even smiling! They could have been on their best behaviour for our benefit of course, and our guide assured us it wasn't always that serene but I got the impression (from the 5 minutes I stood there chatting) that this was a kitchen where passion for cooking comes before big egos.
Working out exactly what to make of this restaurant was harder than I expected. In general I feel that it is a victim of it's hype. Those who have been unimpressed by their experience there have been, for the most-part, subject to false expectations I think. People hear the name Heston Blumenthal and expect to be met with a taste of the arcane and the wacky. They expect to be challenged and have their boundaries pushed. But Dinner is not The Fat Duck. It does not pretend to be The Fat Duck. Heston may oversee the restaurant and provide the premise and the inspiration, but the head chef is Ashley Palmer-Watts and it is he who is in the kitchen running the show. The food is outstanding - apart from a touch too much salt in the mash every dish was flawless, exciting and delicious. The service was immaculate and congenial and the ambience lighthearted and classy. However there are a couple of things that need to be addressed and they are enough to stop me short of giving Dinner my 1st '10/10'.
Firstly the wine list. I am not a stranger to the fact that wine in restaurants is subject to a stupendous mark-up, but there is so much well made, interesting wine out there for £5-7 per bottle that would easily be affordable even with the restaurant mark-up. It is unforgivable to have so few reasonably priced wines on the list, especially when the food really isn't all that expensive.
Secondly, the portion sizes of the various dishes, while never being over the top or mean, seem to vary quite a lot. There is no way of telling from the descriptions/prices whether you are ordering a filling plate or something that needs a side-dish.
Finally, it would be nice to see an interesting pre-dinner morsel to whet the appetite and maybe a couple of petits fours with coffee. I'm not suggesting theatrical nitro-at-the-table wizardry, but something a little more than the 3 courses (and a dollop of sugary tea-goo) would be nice when you're parting with £150 each for the experience.
We loved dinner and all vowed to save up and hurry back to taste the bits of the menu that we reluctantly missed. Can I say that it was the best meal of my life? No, not quite, but it comes pretty close. Let nothing else that I have said detract from the fact that the skill of the cooking is the best I have ever encountered. If you can bare the ordeal of actually booking the table, do it! You can't fail to have a wonderful time… providing your expectations are in line with Dinner's ethos and not clouded by the hype surrounding Heston and The Fat Duck.
The Mandarin Oriental Hotel
66, Knightsbridge,
SW1X 7LA
Nice review Ashley! But 95 quid for wine... Wowza. Bugger that.
ReplyDeleteI ate the taffery tart at The Fat Duck and it left me speechless.