We frown over our desserts because the grace and technique deployed with every other dish suddenly disappears. We sigh over our side dish, a spectacularly well-made semicircle of potato rosti, the crisply rugged exterior giving way to the soft oniony innards. But here they are, among all the shiny surfaces and the saggy cushions, wearing young people’s clothes with a wide-eyed desperation. I doubt many would choose to listen to this music at home. They have to be or they couldn’t afford it. Most of my fellow diners are, like me, through the first flush of youth. How many of these diners are here for the details on these plates and how many for the scene? Dance music thrums, gently vibrating our lower colon as if attempting to make space for our dinner. I stare out into the room, at the flash of jewellery and the shine of leather trouser. A plate of fat grilled scallops with crushed peas, minted pea purée and carrots under mandolined discs of multicoloured carrot is a study in green, orange and purple. Except it’s masterful, the acidity and the sweetness playing catch up with each other. Greedily, we pull apart the domed loaf of bouncy focaccia and use it as a vehicle for the bowl of whipped goat’s curd.Ī rectangle of confit pork, with crackling like set butterscotch, and a roasted chop, is advertised as coming with strawberries, the sort of innovation people shake their heads at. As, in its own way, are pillowy ricotta gnudi, liquid at their centre, with freshly podded broad beans, a brilliant green broad bean purée, the whole lifted by gratings of the much-prized bottarga, the cured and dried roe of the grey mullet. Curls of crispy seaweed add a layer of texture, alongside beads of toasted buckwheat. Taut slivers of cured mackerel rest under candy-coloured ribbons of pickled vegetables, so the plate looks like an explosion in a dressmaker’s. Photograph: Sophia Evans/The ObserverĪmong the starters are deep-fried baby globe artichokes, in the Roman style, with a carefully acidulated mint and pistachio sauce that has been passed to a velvety smoothness. ‘Looks like an explosion in a dressmaker’s’: cured mackerel.
Do the people thronging these tables really care about this serious thumper of a wine list, clearly constructed by a total nerd, with their pronounced interest in skin-contact wines? And do the punters care about the serious, precise effort that has gone into the food? I won’t bang on about the prices, save to say starters top out at £30, mains include a roast chicken for two at £98 and there’s nothing on the wine list below £38 a bottle. They are so squishy, we have to construct a litter out of the scatter cushions to raise our height to something manageable against that of the table. There are squishy velvet banquettes in shades of olive and chartreuse. Illumination comes from hanging lanterns and guttering candles and carefully positioned spots. It is edged by a stack of colonnaded balconies from which foliage drips.
It has about it a touch of the New Orleans French Quarter. I enjoy being wafted from that bar area into the vast three-storey atrium that houses the restaurant. I appreciate that he went to get us a bowl of olives from the bar upstairs, because down here the only snacks available are smoked trout rillettes for £16 or fried chicken for £19 and so on. I love my time with the leather-aproned and expertly coiffed barman downstairs, who serves us a perfectly made ice-cold daiquiri for £16 and a single glass of rosé pinot noir for £15. Should you choose to use the link below, you assume total responsibility for your use of the website to which you are linking.‘A study in green, orange and purple’: scallops. expressly disclaims any duty or obligation to review or correct any of the contents of such website. be liable to the reader or any other person or entity for any inaccuracies, errors in or omission of any information or data therein or for any actions taken in reliance thereon on or for any damages arising therefrom or occasioned thereby. does not guarantee or assume responsibility for the accuracy or completeness of any information or data displayed through this other website, nor shall The Ritz-Carlton Hotel Company, L.L.C. accepts any responsibility for the content or use of this other website. The site to which you will be transferred is not part of the The Ritz-Carlton website and the presence of this link on the The Ritz-Carlton website does not mean that The Ritz-Carlton Hotel Company, L.L.C. By clicking on the 'Accept' button below, you acknowledge that you will be leaving the website.
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