Britain’s reputation for good food is precarious. The British traditionally do ‘words’ a lot better. Ask for sauce on your meat, and you often get two options; “red” or “brown “ – both options awake with poetic possibility, insinuating something beyond the reaches of the palate.
It’s precisely the elusive quality of our food that makes it so charming, and on frequent occasion, spectacularly unpopular. But, hail The Dorchester for daring to flirt with this reputation, and for their aspirations towards the beautiful, in both word and the meaning conveyed therein. Ex-Rhodes W1 chef Brian Hughson is at one with this hidden destiny, and his libido for all things British simmers brilliantly against a backdrop of checkerboard Scottish upholstery, lampshades, and Gibsonesque warlord murals.
Put simply – The Grill at The Dorchester has the punters raving. The Chef’s masterclass demonstration is an a la carte menu that has the capital’s bon-vivant’s scuffling along the marble-paved cloisters before flinging themselves down in front of Hughson’s elegantly seared scallops with sardine ‘pie’ and cauliflower purée. His signature dish is a finger up at all the European promiscuity going on outside. Aside from this inciting incident, go there for the following major chord combinations: Carpaccio of Angus beef with steak tartare, gremolata and sourdough croutes; sea bream with garlic and shallot confit, clam vinaigrette and poached Scottish langoustines; and melt-in-the-mouth pork belly with electric crackling, pork fillet and tulle-licks of mash.
With a heaving dining room even in January, an ambience singularly fresh and unimposing – business schmoozing and high-profile luncheons are refreshingly bohemian in nature – and a wine-list heart-achingly fashioned by wine master Christian Stivert, we shove a fork in the amuse bouche of asparagus velouté and foam…and groan – ‘if food be the music of love, play on’.
For more information, and to book, please visit www.thedorchester.com/the-grill
