Clumsily navigating London is one of my preferred pastimes, much to the disdain of my friends who find my impossibly circuitous routes to a destination two streets away a symptom of malfunctioning internal GPS. The truth is, I actively encourage myself to get lost – not in the back alleys of Hackney at 3 in the morning – but in the safety-belt of daylight hours and usually in neighbourhoods I could never afford to live in or buy clothes.
Why did I move to the big smoke six years ago? Better question, why have I chosen to stay? Her Majesty. I do hope Her Royal Highness will not take offense when I clarify what I mean: the majesty of this incredible, enormous labyrinth of a city; a place I keep losing my way – and I probably mean that in more ways than one – only to arrive in any number of places that make my life here seem novel again.
Weaving through the streets just north of Bond Street station on my way to dinner, I’ve walked no more than 100 metres from Oxford Street and it’s as if I’ve been transplanted to a charming English village – albeit with noticeably upmarket boutique shops and specialty food purveyors like: La Fromagerie, Ginger Pig, Biggles Sausages and Rococo Chocolates. The weather is kind enough to carry this romantic quartet of amazing smells from one storefront to another and into my hungry nose.
108 Marylebone Lane – my destination for the evening – effortlessly invites me into its airy lounge with open-plan seating and aesthetically well-balanced accoutrements: stainless steel fans, large figurative oil paintings, high-ceilings and walls painted in neutral earth tones, providing the welcome bridge to the adjacent and slightly more intimate restaurant.
For a Tuesday night, the place has a healthy attendance: a few local-looking types who exude that comfortable familiarity of regulars; a gaggle of professional, attractive 30 somethings – Tatler editorial types – who in-turn, unknowingly lure in the spending suits from the lounge, looking equally satisfied by the food as by the ‘evening’s possibilities’. Add a few non-offensive family parties and the dude we’re almost certain is the Irish baddie from Boyzone – but dining by himself? 8:30 and it’s a full house at 108.
My guest and I are tucking into a lovely Berri Estates 2009 Shiraz, which in theory, probably should not be partnered with our starters: John Ross Scottish smoked salmon with fennel salad and caper dressing; and a salad of pleasingly al dente asparagus with pickled mushroom, quails egg and truffle dressing. The wine is thankfully not robust enough to overwhelm the memorable undertones of the food – most specifically – the caper and red onion dressing mixed with lightly salted and smokey salmon and hearty fork-fulls of pickle, dainty egg and truffle oil.
It’s clear from a quick perusal of the menu that the restaurant and Executive Chef, Norman Farquharson, take great pride in sourcing wherever possible – meats, cheeses and most ingredients for that matter – from the local vendors in Marylebone Village. The knowledge of this community supportive and inspired initiative, combined with the consistently first-rate execution of the dishes themselves – all reasonably priced as well! – served to further cement return visits on my part.
The exact moment I became a convert? My ‘Like Water for Chocolate’ epiphany? Perhaps you’ll just have to experience the near ludicrously perfect Honey-mustard glazed Suffolk pork belly, cider and apple sauce, sage and polenta chips. Unless the chef was under the tuition of the Gods themselves, I am still mystified as to how this unearthly creation landed on a plate in front of me.
All the more reason to keep on getting lost, time and time and time again…
108 Marylebone Lane
London
W1U 2QE
T +44 (0) 20 7969 3900
