Foliage, Hibiscus, Le Gavroche, Waterside Inn, Locanda Locatelli, Quilon, Rhodes 24, Club Gascon, Galvin at Windows, Umu, Tamarind, Ristorante Semplice, St. Johns, Nobu, Maze, Arbutus, Hakkasan.... Le Bernadin, Jean Georges, Daniels, Degustation, Boulay, Chez Catherine.... Some make you swoon, and others... actually I lie. Just one... leaves you shocked. Last night was the worst experience in my career of fine dining... an evening that went from the sublime to the ridiculous, finally degenerating into an episode of the Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares crossed with a disastrous episode of Celebrity Masterchef. My fingers reluctantly type this, not out of generosity of spirit, but an overwhelming desire to erase the experience from my memory. The evening started well enough, with an unanimous decision to indulge in the Menu Gourmand, followed by an animated discussion on the wine list. Our first four courses flow with elan, bonhomie recklessly thrown about as the restaurant fills up.... and the tip of the iceberg makes you smile benignly. A smile looking more and more botox aided as our fifth course is delayed interminably while the service seems struggles with what one assumes is a regular Saturday night audience, the ramification of having our plates come 2 at a time now instead of altogether, apparent as none make an appearance. Finally, course 5, the fillet of aged Scottish beef.... Lukewarm, and definitely too pale to be medium rare. Reluctantly (only the second time I have ever returned a main course - the first being at a restaurant in Chinatown under the severe stress of having Mim assure me that now they would spit in all my food...!), I point this out and am met with a sympathetic, 'it is too cooked too long..' and my plate is whisked away. The sensation of a cringing episode from Food TV crawling down my neck, as I picture the scene in the kitchen. The rest of my table gallantly nibble their meat, doing a creditable impression of a tortured 4 year old told to clean his plate, but my replacement aged beef makes an appearance only after everyone else is done. I cut into it... perhaps I misunderstood the 'aged'. The fillet in front of me is an embarrassment to any self-respecting cow, cooked into submission till there is no pink, red or magenta hue anywhere but in my forlorn imagination. One bite, and I surrender. Eventually our plates are cleared, no one curious as to why my plate is virtually untouched. I wish Gordon were here. I want my pound of flesh and ask to substitute dessert with the luscious lobster tortellini. The manager is consulted and I am indulged. Apparently the sorbet is good enough to tempt Jayal to asking if she can have a touch more.Twenty minutes later, DDM is fidgeting, Jayal is apologising, Aashish is fading and I'm fuming. We politely decline an offer of coffee as we had neglected to book rooms for the night. Eventually, a large martini glass heaving with sorbet arrives, with a marked lack of any finesse (I've seen a similar display of vulgarity in San Clemente when we asked for a 'regular' ice cream cone), and we grab the opportunity to ask for the bill. Two and a half spoons is all it takes for that particular request to be fulfilled. If only our empty glasses received the same attention.... and I reflect the lack of an amuse bouche to a tasting menu should have triggered of warning bell, but alas, at that time, I did not think it calamitous. I had been impressed by the suggestion of a Jurançon, Domain de Souch, Yvonne Hegoberu, 2004, France but was stopped mid fumble for my BlackBerry with an assurance that he'd write it down for me... that request, like my entire table was forgotten as soon as the pan fried Seabass with fennel and wild mushrooms hit the table (a departure from the roasted seabass with warm potato salad). From the menu, the star was unquestionably the outstanding tortellini of lobster in a sinfully velvet truffle butter sauce that made you want to lick the plate with panache. Rich, decadent and utterly delicious, followed by the crisp sea bass perfectly paired with the soothing sense of fennel with a wicked tweak of the wild mushrooms. The scallops, perfectly seared served with Jerusalem artichoke purée snuck onto the podium. It would seem that the skills in the kitchen are heavily skewed by the marine men/women, as the pan fried foie gras with white beans and bacon resists all my attempts to convince the others the rich, fatty luxury of foie gras justifies force feeding of geese and everyone turns indignantly conservationist. Uninspired, limp and flat, I can't blame them, and like a woman cheating on her husband by fantasising about her lover, I think of the wonderful foie at Le Gavroche, Daniels, and those sublime geese that have been reincarnated as humans after offering up their foie to the Waterside Inn (Hmmmm... two Roux establishments in my ode to foie...). The 'aged' beef...leaves me speechless. If that was my kitchen, I would have either fired the figure toasting the meat with such impertinence, or left my fish folk to rule the menu. Having dodged the blood orange jelly and sorbet, I will say, a second helping the sublime still did not soothe my ruffled feathers, and the graciousness one associates with other restaurants of this calibre was gouged out with a vengeance at the petty appearance of a separate line item for the additional sorbet on the bill and we left the restaurant with the clinging sense of a 'post Quantum of Solace what the fuck was that?!' I had to go back to the website to find the name of the wine I liked, and try to stop the alarmingly indignant bobbing of my head as I read the glowing tributes posted...."William Drabble can cook, much as Jensen Button can drive. He's top of the three, championship level" - Jay Rayner, The Observer Magazine, December 2009 (One season, is it? Who are the other two??)
"This is a grown up, serious restaurant for people who eat out a lot and want a treat" - Giles Coren, The Times, December 2009 (Yes. seriously grown up sans palate diners. Nothing like a pretentious treat for the best)
"Both starters were winners,....Tortellini of lobster with roasted cauliflower and truffle butter sauce was a really luscious plateful...." - Dave Sexton, Evening Standard October 2009 (Nailed it - wonder what he had to say about the rest...)
The latest hot fine dining restaurant to hit the capital in the superb Seven Park Place in the St. James's Hotel and Club - Best London Restaurants, October 2009 (Like a slap in the face)
"A sublime tortellini of lobster isn't nearly enough to make me want to give an otherwise appalling amateurish evening another try. A full house on Saturday night is so unexpected, it renders both the kitchen and service impotent in this fine establishment. I can only assume that the other glowing reviews were arrived at during a fortuitous weekday, or had names better suited to inspire food and service!." Apara Guha, February 2010
