Designed to evoke the grand, late 19th-century dining rooms of the Austro-Hungarian empire, Delaunay manages to balance elegance and sophistication with a laid-back, casual vibe. (A trait it has in common with its sister restaurants The Wolseley and Colbert.) The food is straight out of Vienna: schnitzel, goulash, spaetzle, struedel, Sacher torte. It's all excellent. Schnitzel has a light, crunchy coating surrounding meat that's still moist. Goulash comes with the kind of tart, thick soured cream you don't get here, but remember from trips to Munich and further east, while the spaetzle looks and tastes home made. Their Sacher torte, IMHO, is far better than the "original" recipe the Hotel Sacher serves up. If you're feeling like something lighter, the menu has the feel of a posh grill, with plenty of steaks and seafood options. The latter is particularly good on the starters, where prawn cocktails, crab salads and oysters are always available.
They open early and do a wide range of breakfast options, from hearty cooked fare to an impressive range of Vienna-style pastries. Given its central location at the top of The Aldwych, where Kingsway runs into it, it's no surprise this is a popular venue for business breakfasts. They have a private room at the back that's ideal for mid-sized corporate events. It's also just on the edge of the theatre district, so a great option for pre-show dinners. It crops up a lot as a meeting point for old friends and, though always crowded, the staff never seem to be rushing you along. We recently lingered over dinner from 6:30 until late trains started beckoning around 11.
The Delaunay is the most expensive of the options listed here, with food a bit more than average and the wine list pushing into fine dining territory. You'll work hard to keep your choices under £40 a bottle. Happily, there are more frugal options for visiting, including a bargain pre-theatre menu and "The Counter" ... and informal cafe up front that sells pastries and sandwiches in a coffee bar atmosphere.
I've been a regular patron of this casual offering from Michelin-gilded duo Agnar Sverrisson and Xavier Rousset (Texture, Le Manoir) since their original venture in a basement off Fetter Lane circa 2010. Now there are three. My favourite occupies a light-flooded corner on a back street in Marylebone, the other is tucked in to smaller lanes just west of Regent Street. If you recognise the significance of the name ... the latitude lines between which wine grapes can be grown ... you'll grasp the hook of the place. It's all about wine, and was one of the first restaurants in London to take their by-the-glass wine list very seriously. Sommeliers rotate the bottles on offer frequently and present selections from a wide range of styles and countries. All of the servers are highly trained, able to explain more about the lists and recommend culinary pairings.
The menu changes regularly but maintains an elegant simplicity: light salads, shellfish, terrines and pates for starters; steaks, game, grilled fish for mains. Every dish has been concocted with wine in mind, making this the kind of place you can start with wine and order the food to match. Sverrisson is Icelandic, so you'll usually see some Nordic elements on offer like gravlax, open sandwiches or Icelandic fish pie ... some dusted with his trademark volcanic ash. (It's good, really.) There are sharing platters, too, perfect when you want to concentrate on wine tasting or are just dropping in for a drink before heading somewhere else. Rousset, who was the wine guy, has left the partnership to start his own place, but I think the oenological ethos and expertise was so deeply embedded by the time he left to make his loss invisible to the regular diner.
The temptation of ordering by-the-glass can drive the price up, but if you behave yourself there are bargains to be had. Especially for lunch and early dinners between 6 and 7, when 3 courses for £21 is one of London's great bargains.
Raymond Blanc started the trend that gave rise to 28-50: the acclaimed Michelin starred chef launching a chain of reasonably-priced restaurants so more people can experience of his style. And, presumably, so he can expand his revenues with a higher-margin, lower labour-cost operating model. In 1996, long before I could even imagine affording dinner at his flagship Le Manoir aux Quat'Saisons, I met up with friends at his newly-opened Le Petit Blanc. It was the first of what became a chain of 18 Brasserie Blancs, five in London.
Blanc wanted to bring the high quality and seasonal approach of simple brasseries in French country towns to England. There was nothing quite like it at its price point when it launched, and though it now has competition from chains like Cafe Rouge and Cote, it still stands in a category all its own. Despite being a chain, the restaurants always feel like one-offs, with excellent service and great attention to detail. Menus change with the season but are always authentically French. The plates coming out of the kitchen always feel like someone's prepared them with love. This is no doubt why we've been to more of these than any other chain restaurant in England, regularly going to the Covent Garden location (great for pre-opera dinners), St. Paul's (excellent for work) and South Bank (on the way to the train home) in London, while calling the Winchester branch our local. Despite being a chain, the decor varies between locations. They all, however, share a cozy, romantic warmth. Early in our courtship we had a memorable meal in the Cheltenham branch, from which I will always remember them taking great care over my then-boyfriend's allergy while bringing me extras of the extraordinary freshly salted and roasted local tomatoes that he couldn't eat.
We have only one complaint: there's no branch convenient enough for us to use on our regular outings with my mother-in-law. For that...
With its wood panelling and compact interiors, this neighbourhood bolthole in Clapham is surprisingly cozy despite its location on bustling Northcote Road. It's also comfortingly authentic, from the all-Italian staff to an all-Italian wine list and a menu full of regional Italian dishes that change seasonally. Chef Marzio Zacchi worked with Giorgio Locatelli at Zafferano, so there's a touch of fine dining earnestness and quality here at everyday restaurant prices.
It's not universally excellent: last visit, my pasta with wild boar sauce was eye-rollingly fantastic while my husband described his crab pasta as "pretty basic". I was dying to pinch a bite of my mother-in-law's enticing fritto misto (she said it was wonderful), but wasn't thrilled with the cannoli ... finger-sized and with a filling that lacked the density of proper cannoli cream, it suggested that while they might have Italians in the kitchen, none of them came from anywhere south of Naples. But it certainly passes my most important Italian restaurant test. Is it as good, or better, than I can do at home? Yes. And far better than most Italian places in London, which default to quick-and-easy basics and strip out authentic flavours to suit an Anglo palate. With my favourite moderately-priced Italian restaurant, Luce e Limoni, inconveniently located in a part of London beyond all of our usual flight paths, the Osteria has become my favourite spot for getting a comforting taste of my childhood.
No comments:
Post a Comment