Berners Tavern
London's post-recession fine dining scene has pulled back from ostentation. Menus are still expensive, top places still require extensive forward planning to snag a table, but the stresses of recent years have favoured classics plated with flair, in dining rooms of understated elegance.
Which makes it more than a bit ironic that Atherton's "tavern" … while given a homespun name and presenting a straightforward menu of classics … is set in one of what must be one of the most jaw-droppingly showy dining rooms in London (above). This is a place to see and be seen, redolent of another era. A massive, high-ceilinged open room, gallery-hung walls full of art, overlooked by exuberant plasterwork. It's the kind of place where the food doesn't necessarily have to be that good, especially considering its attachment to the uber-hip, Ian Schrager-designed Edition Hotel.
In reality, it's the grand stage set that's not needed. This food would be magnificent even in the sort of rustic, wood-panelled country spots "tavern" means in my home state. The menu is upmarket European grill, limited choices, heavy on steaks and the catch of the day. The descriptions don't say "fine dining", but the tastes and the plating up certainly do. I have a simple measure for great food: no matter how good the company, how intense the conversation, or familiar the dish … it's so good that you have to pause as the first bite hits your taste buds. Everything else around you fades and, for a moment, all you can concentrate on is the magnificence of what you're chewing.
This was clearly happening for all four of us at the table, as each course triggered a respectful little silence followed by exclamations of delight. I started with a steak tartare that balanced every subtle element perfectly. On to roast monkfish with a creamy sauce. We wrapped by splitting two desserts, an elegant eclair and a sinful layered chocolate affair in a mason jar that was all your comfort food fantasies on steroids.
Little Social
Little Social serves the same sort of food in a much cosier environment. Here, the mood is Parisian Bistro, but clearly one in a very exclusive neighbourhood, and staffed by unusually cheerful and chatty French people. The name comes from its big sister: Pollen Street Social is just across the street.
Even more than at Berners, this is comfort food taken to an elegant extreme. I could have started with the steak tartare here, and was sorely tempted to go for a comparison. But cod brandade called: an emulsion of salt cod, olive oil and potatoes into a thick, smooth, unctuous mash that's exactly what you want on a rainy, windy winter's evening. Wisely, the starter portion is sized to allow you to appreciate more comfort food for the main. In this case, the ultimate gourmet burger. Aged Scottish beef, bacon and cheese, caramelised onions. It is possible to have this with a supplement of pan-fried foie gras which even I, lover of that delicacy that I am, thought was a saturated fat too far.
I was tempted, however, by the restaurant's signature "poutine", evidently a Canadian speciality introduced by the Canadian head chef. And if I were snowed in for a few months in the dark, far north, with moose and wolves beyond my door, this and a few cases of Moosehead lager would make all right with the world. The poutine did not live up to the rare and unique billing the waitress gave them, however, as on arrival I realised they were simply what any Chicagoan would call "loaded fries". French fries with cheese sauce, beef gravy, jalapeños and chorizo. Just a bit of each, and all nicely balanced. Which, once again, elevates the dish to something really special.
Having gone for much heavier comfort food here, nobody could march on to the tempting dessert menu. We split an order of chocolate truffles; just enough to put a sweet end on things and complement the coffee without filling us up more.
Of the two restaurants, I'd probably head back to Little Social over Berners Tavern, unless I wanted to really impress someone or celebrate something big. Both absolutely deserve their reputation, and suggest that Atherton's doing a better job of maintaining quality across his restaurant empire than many other executive chefs do.
My only complaint about both is that they're operating under the new timed table philosophy we're seeing more and more in London. In order to turn tables twice in an evening, they're giving people strict two-hour slots. I understand the financial drivers, and admit it does sharpen up the service, but it makes having a leisurely three-course meal a challenge. At Berners, they moved us from our table to another in the bar for dessert. That was equally pleasant. But at Little Social we would have been ejected to barstools at a long bar; not so good. So I'd avoid both of these if you want a long, leisurely catch-up with someone. For a quick but elegant elevation of comfort food to gourmet cuisine, either of them fit the bill.
In reality, it's the grand stage set that's not needed. This food would be magnificent even in the sort of rustic, wood-panelled country spots "tavern" means in my home state. The menu is upmarket European grill, limited choices, heavy on steaks and the catch of the day. The descriptions don't say "fine dining", but the tastes and the plating up certainly do. I have a simple measure for great food: no matter how good the company, how intense the conversation, or familiar the dish … it's so good that you have to pause as the first bite hits your taste buds. Everything else around you fades and, for a moment, all you can concentrate on is the magnificence of what you're chewing.
This was clearly happening for all four of us at the table, as each course triggered a respectful little silence followed by exclamations of delight. I started with a steak tartare that balanced every subtle element perfectly. On to roast monkfish with a creamy sauce. We wrapped by splitting two desserts, an elegant eclair and a sinful layered chocolate affair in a mason jar that was all your comfort food fantasies on steroids.
Little Social
Little Social serves the same sort of food in a much cosier environment. Here, the mood is Parisian Bistro, but clearly one in a very exclusive neighbourhood, and staffed by unusually cheerful and chatty French people. The name comes from its big sister: Pollen Street Social is just across the street.
Even more than at Berners, this is comfort food taken to an elegant extreme. I could have started with the steak tartare here, and was sorely tempted to go for a comparison. But cod brandade called: an emulsion of salt cod, olive oil and potatoes into a thick, smooth, unctuous mash that's exactly what you want on a rainy, windy winter's evening. Wisely, the starter portion is sized to allow you to appreciate more comfort food for the main. In this case, the ultimate gourmet burger. Aged Scottish beef, bacon and cheese, caramelised onions. It is possible to have this with a supplement of pan-fried foie gras which even I, lover of that delicacy that I am, thought was a saturated fat too far.
Having gone for much heavier comfort food here, nobody could march on to the tempting dessert menu. We split an order of chocolate truffles; just enough to put a sweet end on things and complement the coffee without filling us up more.
Of the two restaurants, I'd probably head back to Little Social over Berners Tavern, unless I wanted to really impress someone or celebrate something big. Both absolutely deserve their reputation, and suggest that Atherton's doing a better job of maintaining quality across his restaurant empire than many other executive chefs do.
My only complaint about both is that they're operating under the new timed table philosophy we're seeing more and more in London. In order to turn tables twice in an evening, they're giving people strict two-hour slots. I understand the financial drivers, and admit it does sharpen up the service, but it makes having a leisurely three-course meal a challenge. At Berners, they moved us from our table to another in the bar for dessert. That was equally pleasant. But at Little Social we would have been ejected to barstools at a long bar; not so good. So I'd avoid both of these if you want a long, leisurely catch-up with someone. For a quick but elegant elevation of comfort food to gourmet cuisine, either of them fit the bill.
No comments:
Post a Comment