QUINTESSENTIALLY | Insider | Food & Drink

For a city as supposedly imbued with a fine dining culture as London, it comes as a bit of a shock to realise that it’s only got two three Michelin restaurants, and both of those are outposts of globally lauded superchefs, namely Gordon Ramsay and Alain Ducasse. A name that has come up time and time again as someone who richly merits a third star is Claude Bosi who, along with his former wife Claire, runs Hibiscus, which caused a dining sensation first in Ludlow and then again in 2007, when it moved to London and swiftly recaptured its two stars.

A recent visit for a lavish weekend lunch shows that Bosi is firing on all cylinders. The room is compact, stylish without being OTT and full of stylishly efficient staff who are friendly without being over-familiar. The clientele are respectful and no doubt respectable; one tacitly feels that raised voices and braying laughter would be unwelcome intrusions here. The atmosphere is one of moneyed elegance, perhaps just as well given that the cuisine on offer is far from cheap. Those who have to think twice about opening their wallets for seriously high-end dining might wish to look elsewhere.

For the true gastronomes, there is a never-ending parade of delights. An amuse-bouche of coconut custard and wild mushroom veloute, served in a scooped out eggshell, sets the scene for what Bosi’s cooking represents; precision, delicate flavours and not a little wit. This theme runs through many of the starters, from roast hand dived scallops in pork pie sauce, of all things, to a ravioli of hen’s egg yolk and smoked potato with chopped winter truffle, the effect is as droll as it is delicious. These are accompanied by some remarkably innovative wines, such as the ‘orange wine’ – white wine fermented and distilled as if it were a red – the AA Cos Pithos 2009 from Sicily – which sounds peculiar but is a beautiful compliment to Bosi’s creations.

Halibut braised in coffee and cardamom and guinea fowl cooked in hay with goat’s cheese are about as close as Bosi gets to convention – i.e not very – but are both served with impeccable grace and style. My guest, who still clings to the bizarre tenets of an ancient sect called ‘pescetarianism’, was delighted with a Dover sole stuffed with fennel, an impeccably presented and quite splendid dish. The selection of cheese, from the excellent Paxton & Whitfield in nearby Piccadilly, was every bit as great as you’d expect.

But the coup de grace came in the last course. When the waitress starts grinning and refuses to tell you what you’re going to eat until you’ve devoured most of it, you’re either in very safe hands indeed or in trouble. What looked like a tarte au citron appeared, and we fell upon it with eagerness. Except it didn’t taste much like lemon tart. It was…almost savoury, we thought. But it’s a dessert! Desserts can’t be savoury. And what was that ice cream with it, too?  Eventually we were put out of our inquisitive misery. It was, of all things, a tart of Jerusalem artichoke, served with toasted oat ice cream, a complex, challenging and delectable dish, like so much of the menu here. If you want to be tested and excited as well as just fed, Hibiscus is the place to come.

29 Maddox St, London W1. www.hibiscusrestaurant.co.uk

Amidst all of the recent hype about the reopening of The Savoy and the opening of Heston Blumenthal’s Dinner at the Mandarin Oriental, it’s interesting to see that the re-emergence of the Four Seasons on Park Lane and the inception of its star restaurant Amaranto have gone almost unheralded. Part of this is a certain lack of big ‘da-dah!’ publicity that the other hotels have in spades; without a reality TV series or arguably the world’s most famous chef to hang the reopening on, it has to be judged entirely on its merits. Which, thankfully, are considerable enough to make this well worth a visit.

The first thing that you notice is Pierre-Yves Rochon’s design, which resembles an unlikely but rather beguiling cross between a Far Eastern tea palace and an Edwardian bordello. If you’re a fan of red velvet, then you’re going to be in seventh heaven. The cocktails at the adjoining bar are excellent; a novel twist on an iced tea involving gin was a perfect pre-dinner aperitif and sets up the meal splendidly.

Under executive chef Adriano Cavagnini, who attracted much acclaim for his tenure at the Eden Hotel in Rome, the menu does not attempt to reinvent the wheel but instead concentrates on a range of traditional Italian specialities, beautifully cooked and stylishly presented. A starter of rabbit ravioli is perfectly light and tender, and a main course of veal is every bit as delectably cooked as you’d hope for. My date’s sea bass, meanwhile, had her using distinctly Italian expressions of pleasure at the subtle, clean flavours that it embodied so beautifully.

However the reason why this seems likely to become a great favourite with diners is more to do with the quite stunning 250-bottle strong wine list, ranging from regions all over Italy, from Piedmont to Sicily. They’re on display in the bar in stunning glass-walled splendour, and, best of all, it’s possible to order any bottle on the list, provided that you have a minimum of two glasses; hardly much of an obligation. A quite exquisite Italian Riesling was a highlight, but then it’s easy to get carried away with such an eclectic and well-chosen selection. Our sommelier, Jack, proved a more than usually helpful and accommodating guide.

There’s no doubt that Amaranto faces some tough competition in the comparatively rarefied world of big-money fine dining. However, there’s equally no doubt that it’s doing what it sets out to do very, very well indeed. In the very near future, this is going to be one of London’s premier eateries.

Hamilton Place, Park Lane, W1.
www.fourseasons.com/london/amaranto

Fade In

Late Evening: A contemporary boutique hotel, Marylebone, London. Through the distinctly un-hotelish doors of a handsome Georgian façade, past a brace of plush red armchairs by Christopher Guy, we pan round to find a stylish, heated cigar terrace. An air of sophistication and (steadily growing) self-satisfaction curls among the twenty or so cigar aficionado’s, now down to the last inch of their hand-rolled 6inch Trinidad Robustos. Attentive staff breeze in and out with wines and spirits.

Large Chap: …Sunday night in Rome, you have to go with the Julieta
Svelte Swedish Banker: 7 Inch vintage 98?
Large Chap: Or the Double Corona 7.6
Svelte Swedish Banker: You’re kidding?
Large Chap: I don’t kid.
Me: Why can’t I get up? I want to check out the humidor. I’m here to write this place up, you know?
Large Chap: Last inch will do it to you.
Me: Seriously. Why can’t I stand up?

Cut To

Same Terrace. Robustos have been replaced with dark liquor and flutes of Champagne. Filmy eyes accompanied by happy grunts. A Patrick Bateman look-a-like hands over a subtle, off-white coloured business card to a pretty new comer. Man with slick-backed hair sits down opposite the Large Chap, takes a sip of coffee liquor.

Me: The receptionist looks like a queen on that golden throne-like creation. Where did Frederick go?
Large Chap: Who’s that?
Me: That guy with the quiff.
Large Chap: No, that!
Me: Oh, that’s my lady-friend, you know? We have dinner now.
Large Chap: Stay for a while. I’ll buy you the Prince of Wales?
Me: Medium bodied, mild, and you can taste the cedar in it?
Large Chap: (grunts) Exactly. Best paired with a sweeter spirit before dinner.
Girl: Heya. I passed through the Lounge. Very fancy. Someone was eating something that I really want.
Large Chap: Come, take a seat. Let’s get you a drink?
Waiter: Mam, would you like to try a cigar?
Large Chap: Yes, she would. The Petit Julietas. With Scotch?
Me: Or Champagne? But no, we really have to go. Business card?
(Large Chap hands over the card)
Me: Asset Management? (laugh) I took you more for a professional boxer.
Large Chap: I got my nose flattened in Cuba…long story, if you care for it?
Girl: Or a quasi-professional cigar smoker?

Cut To

Behind a Japanese-style lacquered screen lit with minimalist pin lights, a lady in her sixties sits by a window, a lonely romantic, serenaded by the sound of falling rain. The small and cosy Lounge next door is a-glow in rich shades of browns and golds. On one table, a steak with potato wedges in a copper saucepan, and another plate of spinach and ricotta. A bottle of Cheval des Andes is poured out by a distinctive gentleman with emerald cuff-links. Man with slicked-back hair, blue suit and pointy loafers is taking notes.

Me: I should eat something before I come next time. The last inch of your Julietas hit me way too hard.
Girl: You need to put some weight on. Are you eating breakfast?
Me: Nice place, though. Definitely five star since the make over. Wait till you see the room.
Girl: Superior, right?
Me: Two massive flat-screens. Technology all there. Rain shower…I spent ten minutes opening the curtains though. You need to use this remote control.
Girl: Mini-bar with comedy pricelist?
Me: It’s a boutique hotel in Central London. What do you think?

Cigar evening at Ten Manchester Street. Time: 6.30pm. Prices: GBP 30.00 To find out when our next evening is and book your place, please call T 44 (0) 207 3175 900. Places are limited to 20 on the cigar terrace.

www.tenmanchesterstreethotel.com

If you’re going to name a restaurant after someone, your first thought might be to go for a great historical or national figure – ‘The Shakespeare’ or ‘The Lord Nelson’ perhaps. Calling it after a fictional character best known for his impertinent letters to the great and the good of the 1980s might seem a tad eccentric, but Willie Donaldson’s timeless comic creation, wet fishseller Henry Root, has inspired an excellent Chelsea neighbourhood restaurant.

The first thing that comes to mind upon looking at the comprehensive menu is that it’s not a million miles away from the small plate philosophy of Covent Garden’s Terroirs, with selections including a must-try charcuterie board with all the bells and whistles including meaty black pudding, salami and an umissable terrine. Seared scallops with a cauliflower and raisin dressing are a pleasantly unusual combination, and larger plates of hanger steak with bone marrow fritter and braised loin of pork are every bit as carnivorously satisfying as you would hope. A cheese course offers both French and English varieties, and the sweet-toothed can take succour in rhubarb and hazelnut crumble, amongst other delights. It should be noted that, like Terroirs, all of this is exceptionally keenly priced; you are unlikely to end up spending more here than you would spend in your local gastropub.

One of the other joys here is the copious wine list. Organised by the ever-charming Finn (ask him if you want to know more about Willie Donaldson, he’s a mine of information), there are numerous delectable options available by the glass, meaning that one can get a really broad look at the oenophilic delights on offer. From a sparkling Loire wine – much fresher and more dynamic than many champagnes – to a rather wonderful Gewurtztraminer, along with much else beside, this is a grand tour through small but perfectly formed producers.

There are already murmurings among the cognoscenti that this is going to become one of the places to see and be seen in in 2011. Let’s just hope that these high standards are maintained, and this could well be an unmistakable hit.

Sometimes, in the upper echelons of the London restaurant world, punters might be forgiven for doing a double-take at the restaurant that they’ve been frequenting for years, as it seems to have changed chef and atmosphere completely. Thus, visitors to the still-excellent Roussillon are now trying Daniel Gill’s cuisine, while those who want to sample that of the original chef, Alexis Gauthier, need to head to his eponymous establishment in Soho. Just for fun, this is the establishment that used to be Richard Corrigan’s Lindsay House, and Corrigan has now moved onto Corrigan’s Mayfair. It can all get confusing.

What isn’t at all in doubt is Gauthier’s excellence. Having launched in May 2010, it soon attracted enormous critical attention and plaudits, including a recently awarded Michelin star. The atmosphere, as with that of Roussillon’s, is serious, respectful and grown-up – don’t expect raised voices or phones ringing every few moments. Instead, this caters to gastronomes eager to try Gauthier’s spin on traditional French fine dining.

Two distinct menus are offered. The first is an a la carte selection that allows you to choose from 3, 4 or 5 dishes – effectively this means that you can have a fish and meat course, or choose between such delights as soft fillet of Dover sole with clams and baby squid and rosemary scented cuts of Welsh lamb. Starters, meanwhile, could include honey smoked duck foie gras or black truffle risotto. Yes, in case you hadn’t already guessed, very little is done by halves here.

The tasting menu, as so often, comes to the rescue for the terminally indecisive, offering a Cook’s tour (sic) through the delights on offer. It’s perfectly balanced, with everything from the aforementioned risotto and Dover sole to a stunning finale of Gauthier’s famous Golden Louis XV dessert, which rumour has it was inspired by the eponymous Alain Ducasse restaurant in Monaco, and can only be described as the Kit Kat of your dreams. The only dish we weren’t wild for was a breast of pigeon as a main meat course, but this was less due to the cooking than personal taste. Wines accompanying the courses are elegantly and classily chosen; a Lebanese white, the Chateau Khoury ‘Reve Blanc’ set the stall out early on, and a particularly good late harvest Tokaji acts as a gorgeous accompaniment to dessert. It’s all good value as well – the tasting menu is a not-excessive GBP 68, with the a la carte starting at GBP 35 for three courses.

Alexis Gauthier would make no bones, I presume, about his commitment to offering a truly deluxe gourmet experience. This excellent restaurant is a pleasure to visit, and long may it remain so.

21 Romilly St, London W1 www.gauthiersoho.co.uk

You might be forgiven for thinking that when you’ve been to one City restaurant, you’ve been to them all. Financiers and stock traders eating enormous steaks and drinking gallons of Champagne and red wine, all the while braying self-congratulatory about how much money they’ve made that day, in oak-panelled rooms that couldn’t radiate machismo more clearly if every diner had to shoot their own dinner on arrival. Such assumptions are sweeping, but sadly all too often correct.

That is, unless you’re lucky enough to visit Bonds, the strikingly accomplished restaurant adjoining the highly regarded Threadneedle Hotel in the City. The first thing that hits you upon entering is the opulence of it all, with the high ceilings and pillars offering a sense of grandeur and space that is seldom found around the Square Mile. Once you’ve been impressed by the wow factor of your surroundings, an even bigger treat soon comes when you look at the menu. Head chef Barry Tonks has received accolades while cooking at other venues including Chapter One and The Dorchester, and it’s quite clear that he has put his training to good use.

One doesn’t want to be a hostage to fortune with superlatives, but if I eat many more innovative or downright delicious starters than my West Coast scallop with chorizo and squid ink polenta this year, I’ll be very surprised. Everything about this – from the plump, juicy scallops to the subtly delectable polenta and the full-sized pieces of chorizo – perfectly compliments the settings and excellent service, making this a true highlight of my recent dining. Not that any aspect of the rest of the meal disappoints – Elwy Valley lamb rump was served with a kind of hearty pie of shoulder and boulangere potatoes, and my companion spoke highly of his yellow fin tuna with pineapple and steamed bass with a champagne and oyster veloute. Desserts of panacotta with Yorkshire rhubarb and Amedei chocolate fondant are finely judged.

City wine lists have long sought to outdo one another in opulence and length, but the list here is carefully chosen and sensibly judged. From the original choice of Delamotte as the house Champagne to a good selection of wines by the glass (including Simmonet-Febvre Chablis and an excellent 2007 Muscat de Beaumes de Venise), there’s plenty here for the connoisseur at all levels.

So, a City restaurant with excellent, award-worthy food, genuinely pleasant service, a clientele who may well have been bankers and a fantastic atmosphere? Whatever next? A Michelin-starred restaurant in the depths of East London? Well….

5 Threadneedle Street, EC2. www.theetoncollection.co.uk/restaurants/bonds

The door opens and the restaurant’s charm immediately falls all over my brand new pin-stripe suit. Illuminated from within like an alabaster vase, I compare it to the look on her face… ‘Just like you darling. Wait, isn’t that a new dress? Of course I knew, and you changed your hair too. I know, I always notice. How can I not notice..! etc etc’

Texture – the name of this proud new offering in Mayfair – is full of caramel coloured seats and sandy wood floors, and behind us chef and co-owner Agnar Sverrisson’s team are having fun, their lithe sculptors hands turning parcels of cream-free produce into modern art.

The perfumed neck by my side gives off that familiar lemony scent, and suggestions of sandalwood climb past the Scandinavian landscapes that have already come alive against the white-washed walls. I want steak, and a large portion of it – recommended medium-rare with the incredibly smooth Malbec Catena Zapata perhaps? ‘It will blow-your-mind’ Vincenzo says, a curiosity he picks out from Co-owner Xavier Rousset’s almost endless international wine list. He leaves us (or her) with a winning smile, and two shots of cold watercress soup and diced apple puree (offered as a pre-starter).

Table-stalking as I always am, I noticed a Sorority-type girl lean across the table and give her man – a gentle man, I should say, and one of great elegance and remarkable seriousness – a considered kiss. The kiss simmers, and the lights dim and I hear the high notes of Tchaikovsky move in from the Champagne bar (a worthy destination in its own right). The girl draws back mysteriously, provocatively even, and her mouth opens again as she pushes something towards the gentleman, his eyes ablaze now with that half-bottle of Riesling Auslese 2001. ‘It must be the Varlhona white chocoloate mousse with ice cream, dill and cucumber’ I think, and smile at my starter of well-tamed pinkish beetroots, oats, Mizuna and powdered goat’s cheese.

Behind me they’re having the Icelandic Cod; next to me, Sverisson’s signature – Anjou Pigeon, chargrilled, with shallot, sweetcorn, and baby popcorn make her eyes light up behind the lamp. The steak comes – easy on the stomach, pricy, and impeccable with the afore mentioned Zapata – and then I’m happy to find the roast chicken and jus in spring vegetable ‘risotto’ being spooned onto my plate. ‘To make up for past sins’ she says. ‘What sins?’ I reply, to which she attracts Vincenzo over to our table and orders the Varlhona white chocolate. I go for the ‘Skyr’ – a strange icy yoghurt that’s served with subtle variants of gariguette strawberries. I’m telling it to you straight, this is IT – with or without the kiss.

It’s a rare kind of alchemy Sverrisson learnt at Le Manoir (the old gentrified haunt where he studied under maestro chef Raymond Blanc); that focus on ‘combining and emphasising different consistencies’; those provocative icy-clean flavours, that mingled together leave a sublime after-taste – a soft vapour-like lightness, akin to the Arctic sun glancing off a minty ocean wave. Unassuming, precociously confident and leaving behind the usual contrived attention of rival debutants, Texture is a complex romance that is soon to cause a sensation on the London Restaurant scene.

For bookings, please visit www.texture-restaurant.co.uk.

With last week seeing whisky consumption peak around Burns’ Night celebrations there’s a good chance your stock has taken a bit of a hit. It is the perfect time, therefore, to start looking for your next bottles. So saying, let me present Dalmore’s new Four Rivers collection.

The collection is inspired by four of Scotland’s most iconic rivers – the Dee, Spey, Tay and Tweed. The characteristics of each river are mirrored by their respective whisky; hence the Spey Dram is elegant and subtle, like the river, while the Dee Dram packs a punch as powerful as its namesake.

As is to be expected from anything created by Dalmore’s legendary Master Distiller, Richard ‘The Nose’ Paterson, they are excellent, the all-important maturation process taking place in barrels made of American white oak and then in those which have held Oloroso sherry, to create a whisky even the Master himself is proud of, a pride which comes through when he teaches us how to taste – you feel he is only half joking when he threatens violence should your technique not do justice to the amber nectar.

Staying next to the cascading waters of the Dee, it’s clear why the distillers are so passionate about the rivers. The scenery is beautiful; mountains, forests and rivers play out in this preternatural landscape, a landscape home to a cornucopia of wildlife, and the country sports which accompany this diversity – visitors can fish, hunt, shoot or just walk, taking in the views and the crisp, fresh air.

With palates ringing from the intense coffee, and almost Christmassy flavours of almonds, oranges and pears of my personal favourite, the Tay Dram to the rich marzipan, marmalade and cinnamon notes of the Tweed; the Dee’s walnuts, plums and liquorice to the treacle and berries of the glorious Spey, the range here is sure to keep you coming back for more.

The link between river and dram does not end there; a donation is made from each sale to the conservation trust for the respective rivers. The last offering of the Dee Dram raised £35,000 (they hope to raise £400,000/year from the new collection) for the river, enough to open up 25 miles of spawning grounds in this great salmon-fishing spot. You can sink back into an armchair after a glorious day of fishing, knowing your restorative dram is not only doing you, but also the rivers, good.

This new collection follows on the tail of other exclusive Dalmore whiskies produced in recent times, one of which, Trinitas, only three bottles will ever be made, is the world’s first six-figure bottle of whisky; predictably, any hopes of a taste were sadly scotched.

For now it looks as though I’m sticking with the Rivers Collection – it certainly won’t be a hardship.

The Rivers Collection