I’m back! Continuing my travels in Reims

It’s been a shockingly long time since I posted, call it a sabbatical if you will… I’m not going to apologise. What with taking on a bigger role, indulging in the fairer sex and moving house I feel I have, understandably, been quite out of the loop. Be it from taking in the impressive Simon Schama re-hang at the National Portrait Gallery (or NPG to those in the know) or dining at Polpo, I have become something of a louche fellow about town, much in the cast of Dorothy L Sayers’ Lord Peter Wimsey… but I jest, I lack the requisite style, panache and the ability to drop my ‘g’ for that accolade. Let’s put it this way, I’ve had a good time and left you quite on tenterhooks for the next leg of a French adventure. 

While it seems like a long while ago it still seems burnt in my memory. I’ve been back to France since and have just booked a few more trips to that magical place (North France to be exact), but it will hopefully keep me informed to write an extended piece on the subject at some stage. Here it seems apt to pick up where I left things, in the capital of Champagne, Reims. 

For those who can cast their minds back, Reims in my mind was a rather underwhelming city. Yes, it had a marvellous Cathedral and a couple of very impressive museums, but it wasn’t really for me. I had been underwhelmed by the surrounding countryside on the train journey in. The hills were too soft, there was something of a malaise about the whole area and the drizzling, overcast sky did nothing to help things. 

No matter, as I sat in a very agreeable Champagne bar with my coup of Blanc de Blancs, nibbling on shavings of saucisson, I reflected on the mysticisms of Hermann Hesse’s Siddhartha. A book read when sixteen didn’t hold as much resonance, maybe it had something to do with the location? Who knows. 

I made my way to the main drag and had a small beer before I made my way to what was the crowning glory of Reims, L’Alambic - recommended in the travel supplement of a one-time Saturday Daily Telegraph. 

Again, it was table for one in this eccentric, contemporary restaurant in which the dining room was situated in a former wine cellar. I was greeted on arrival by Karol, the charming owner of the restaurant who addressed me by name (I was the only solo diner) and led to my table, past the vast copper alembic which lends its name to the restaurant. For those not in the know, it’s an essential part of the distilling process. On a little side table next to it, proudly presented, were some bottles of eau de vie (fruit brandy) from their favourite supplier, one Rene de Miscault. I knew as soon as I saw it, I was going to enjoy the food here as this is my favourite distiller, based in a small Alsatian village called Lapoutroie in the Vosges foothills. 

I was going hell for leather on this one, and as the very attractive and engaging Karol informed me she was going to tend to my table, I knew I was in excellent hands. Here’s how it panned out: 

A glass of house Champagne 

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Smoked duck breast stuffed with foie gras, green salad, vinaigrette

A glass of Chablis

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Rack of lamb (pink) with Dauphinoise potatoes, savoy cabbage and a light ratatouille

1/2 bottle of Pomerol 

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Vanilla parfait with Raspberries drenched in Marc de Champagne

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Coffee and eau de vie (Marc de Gewürztraminer)

It was an exquisite meal, more so for its simple, bold flavours and bone fresh ingredients. It was a very clever chef who prepared the meal. The lamb was so so succulent and the Dauphinoise was luxurious without being too-rich, the use of garlic was judicious. The great surprise was the starter, the juxtaposition of the duck breast against the smooth liver… divine. The pudding was pure decadence with a real kick of alcohol and tang of fresh raspberries and coulis. I’m almost transported back now, to that low ceilinged dining room as I write. All through the meal I was given impeccable service, friendly and not overbearing. What a meal, and topped of with some of Mr Miscault’s (who I had the pleasure of meeting a few years ago) glorious Marc de Gewürztraminer.

The real fun started though when I went up to the reception desk to pay the bill and I was encouraged by Karol to enjoy a glass of homemade cherry liqueur before I left! Let’s just say that I stayed for more, trying the full range of homemade ratafias and I experimented with my broken French and she spoke to me in her impeccable English! Of course two or three more toasts were consumed, this time from her stash of Miscault! Plum, Mirabelle (a type of plum) and pear were dispatched very merrily before I paid the bill and staggered out for a night-cap and a Gitane or ten! 

What an evening, what a host and what a restaurant. If you find yourself in Reims, make sure you visit L’Alambic for an experience you will never forget! 

Bloody Good Chap goes to France: Dinner with the Baron [Restaurant Review]

Le restaurant Baron-Lefèvre

33 Rue de Rieux, 44000 Nantes, France

+33 2 40 89 20 20

As promised, I am producing a few extra posts which are designed to dwell on a few of the exceptional meals I had on my French adventure. 

I chose Le restaurant Baron-Lefèvre having read some very glittering reviews of the establishment on Trip Advisor and, having taken a look at the website, I was captivated by the modern, airy look of the restaurant. Plenty of exposed brickwork, steel railings, a playful green house on one wall and an open kitchen on the other, it looked inviting and contemporary. I then read their philosophy of staying true to local Nantaise cuisine, taking advantage home grown vegetables (for which the area is renowned), the abundance of the  sea and river, lamb reared on the salty marshes and time-honoured techniques of classical French cuisine. I made an advance booking. 

I arrived at Le restaurant Baron-Lefèvre and was ushered to my table for one. The nice thing about France is there were a couple of other lone diners and I was not made to feel unwelcome or a spectacle as so often happens in UK restaurants. Nor was I given a reduced level of service which also seems to typify dining solo. 

The menu was full of interesting preparations, a few classics, a couple twists on classics and some house originals. What I immediately noticed was the simplicity of the preparations and an emphasis on 2-3 core ingredients, proudly stamped with local provenance. There were plenty of mouth watering plates from a simple platter of langoustine (Dublin Bay Prawns) served on crushed ice to a traditional salt marsh rack of lamb with spring vegetables. However, there were a few things that leaped out at me. Here’s what I went for: 

White Asparagus with Sauce Mousseline 

Loire Valley Cremant (sparkling wine) 

White asparagus is not nearly as popular in the UK as it is on the continent where it takes precedence over the green variety. It has a subtler flavour, with a faint taste of oysters. Perfectly cooked, each part of the vegetables was tender and accompanied by a foaming, decadent sauce Mousseline, which is essentially a Hollandaise with the addition of whipped cream. Deliciously decadent, but judiciously portioned, it whetted my appetite for my main course. The dry, sparkling cremant was a light counterpoint which worked well. 

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Eels in a parsley and garlic butter sauce with Nantes spring vegetables

A Carafe of Muscadet

Eels and apprehension go hand in hand in the mind of the Englishman and I do think this a sad state of affairs, as there are few greater pleasures that the taste of eel flesh with its tender, oily flesh offset by a reassuringly organic earthiness found in river fish. The Loire abounds with Eels so this really is the place to eat it. This time, I had it prepared in a very classic style in a parsley, garlic and butter sauce surrounded by tiny new potatoes. It’s a winning combination and made even more special with a small cocotte of turned carrots, fresh peas and green asparagus tips. Wanting to drink the local tipple, I went for a carafe of Muscadet, where its fresh, slightly acidic taste worked well with rich food. A truly stunning dish. 

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Rum Baba with Tropical Fruits

Cafe Noir

Given the richness of the main course, I was tempted to pass on pudding until I saw that one of the specials for the evening was a traditionally made Rum Baba. Although a speciality of Lorraine (where I visit later in the trip) I could not resist - it’s one of my favourite puddings, a sure way to my heart. I was presented with a  light doughnut type pastry on a bed of pineapple carpaccio and raspberries, topped with a generous portion of Chantilly cream then liberally doused with white rum (which soaked into the pastry). With each mouthful I felt my stomach agreeably expanding! It’s highly alcoholic so there was no need for a digestif but I a well made black coffee cut through the richness! 

The total bill was €57, which, given the amount I had consumed was not to bad at all. It was a superb meal, if you are in Nantes, I thoroughly recommend making the time to visit. 

Coming Up: I head to Angers to explore the seat of the Dukes of Anjou, sip on Cointreau and enjoy an andouilette. 

Fine French Flair!

Gazette Battersea - Chatfield Road, London SW11 3UY, United Kingdom

I have always believed that a hiatus is a useful way to overcome a dose of writers block. Yes dear readers, I know that I have been too long in typing up a latest set of musings with which to whet my audience’s appetite. Of course, I have paid the price my lax behaviour, followers drop off, visits to the site seem to evaporate into thin air and my writings sink down the SEO rankings... such is life and such are the consequences for lack of blog maintenance. 

However, now I have returned from the valleys of the uninspiring to mountain tops bursting with energy, enthusiasm and above all, entertainment and where better to start than with an account of a superb restaurant that I had the pleasure of visiting last Saturday, Gazette.

Located a stones-throw from the River Thames in the modern Battersea Reach complex, Gazette is a fine example of classic French bistro cooking done well. The occasion was my mother’s birthday and the other guest were my aunt and my grandmother so I was ‘outnumbered’ as they say! The birthday girl had somewhat undersold it claiming, a simple cuisine of roast chicken and pommes dauphinoise - how delicious I thought, but I felt that the initial description did not communicate the triumph of the meal I was about to eat. 

Now, to give a bit of context, I love French brasserie cuisine: hearty fish soups, mountains of crevettes (prawns), brochettes of lamb, coq au riesling, omelette au fine herbes, tarte tatine... you get the picture. Give me this any day over meat cooked in a sous vide, sodden with foams, espumas, consomme and concasse (just an irritating term often used to describing peeled and chopped tomatoes on Masterchef)... I know, I know, I am being a tad unfair but rustic French cuisine is one with bags of strong, pleasing flavours using moreish and often highly unhealthy ingredients. 

Back to the restaurant. I arrived early and as is my custom after the little hand passes 12 noon, I requested that the waiter bring me a beer. Cold, crisp and pleasingly non-descript (I have never liked hoppy lager) it slipped down easily as I chewed on green olives and some bread with a little salted butter, a pleasant start to the meal. 

Looking around I took in the decor, the room was light and airy but had a French sensibility about it with polished tables and chairs, robust linen napkins, banquettes along the walls, an oak bar and plenty of brass railing work. All in all the establishment had a nice welcoming feel without being to overwhelming. 

The other guests arrived, drinks were ordered (theirs a Provencal rose) and the menus were presented. My eyes lit up with delight and desire as soon as I scanned my eyes across the menu with its promises of suckling pig, presented four ways, oeufs en cocotte (baked eggs), confit de canard (duck legs braised in duck fat), cassoulet (a hearty bean stew incorporating the aforementioned confit de canard, pork, sausage), boeuf bourgignon, mussels, oysters... oh I could go on! These were rich pickings and no mistake. A wry smile rose from across the table as my dining companions saw the glee with which I devoured the menu with my eyes! I am often quick to decide but here I was in a quandary, there was so much I wanted to eat! 

Soon I alighted on the fresh asparagus with Bayonne ham and frisee (£7.50), I couldn’t resist. White asparagus is a rare treat in the UK, where green is the norm, and that it was pan-fried in butter made it doubly inviting.

It came to me as three fat spears topped with the chopped and cooked ham and a bundle of dress salad. I am ashamed to admit that I was so ravenous that I wolfed the lot down and, had I not been giving the cheese trolley longing looks, could have ordered a second round of it for pudding. The asparagus was delicate and played nicely against the saltiness of the pig and the sharply dress frisee. 

I was feeling rather traditional that day and so I plumped for a Bavette steak (£14) for my main course, a brasserie classic full of flavour and with a chewy texture. I find alluring and others don’t! I requested it blue (frankly steak should not be cooked any other way!) and with a side order of fries and some green salad.

The steak was all that I thought it would be and more, topped with melting shallots it was all that I thought it would be and more. The salad was pleasing because, unlike most green salads you get in restaurants, this one was a simple affair based on soft, round lettuce with a no-frills vinaigrette. The only criticism I had was when it came to the trite. 

I have never been a fan of the double cooking/triple cooking method and, truth be told, really, really like the processed chips you get at most steak restaurants. Maybe it’s something in the way they’re made, much like preferring frozen peas to fresh ones! However, the chips came and they were tasty, but not quite crispy enough for my preference. This is a very, very minor negative, more a matter of taste, and certainly not a game-changer. I accompanied my main course with a strong, but plummy red from Languedoc (£6.50 a glass). 

My dining companions had the 1/2 roast chicken (£11), beautiful cooked and presented with a luscious, silky jus, the dauphinoise potatoes and some fine green beans, where as my grandmother who has a healthy appetite tucked into the very tasty looking suckling pig (£17). All claimed their’s was the best choice! 

Pudding or cheese? Pudding or cheese? PUDDING or CHEEEEESE? Hmmm... what to  choose? I think I have given away my decision already but it was a hard one to make, there were plenty of enticing options but, having looked at the cheeseboard on the way in I was somewhat swayed. 

Choosing to go for the judicious four choices for £4.00 opposed to eight options for £8.00, and I was not disappointed. The waitress took me over to inspect the specimens. I have always been a sucker for cheese from North-East France and so a slice of ripe Mariolles (Picardy), a  slick of very ripe Epoisse (Burgundy), a petite wedge of Camembert with Calvados (Normandy) before dipping to centre for the Auvergnaise Fourme d’Ambert. Served with a few walnuts, a trio of grapes and some crusty bread it was a true symphony of flavours. Each cheese had been kept well and coupled with some of the Languedoc, which I had kept back it was almost other-worldly! 

My dining companions sampled a thin, crisp apple tart with a dollop of homemade vanilla ice cream, a thumbs up confirming that it was a good ‘un. 

Cheese gone, I rounded off the meal with a glass of deliciously cold plum brandy from Alsace-Lorraine and a black coffee. The perfect end to an absolutely fabulous meal!  

A beacon of light in SW19

The Lighthouse, 75-77 Ridgway, Greater London SW19 4ST

It seemed Wimbledon was doomed to lag behind other peripheral, affluent London boroughs in terms of gastronomy. While trendy eateries were popping up all over North London and as far as Chiswick or Catford, SW19 seemed somewhat neglected.

Of course there were a number of pretenders to the culinary throne throughout the years, promising so much and yet either delivering so little or, worse, being so damn inconsistent. When I was younger Tootsies was as glamorous as it got, with its smothered chicken, crinkle-cut fries and carousel of burger relishes. Other hotspots included the vast Chinese restaurants Bayee Village and Confucius (I’m actually quite fond of the latter) and the thoroughly dated and outrageously priced San Lorenzo Fouriporta (said to be a favourite of Boris Becker – he’s obviously never been to Riva in Barnes). It is fair to say that the borough was a plethora of Young’s pubs and, if not a desert, a very dry savannah in terms of restaurants.

           

Such was the sorry case, and in my mind a rather puzzling one. Wimbledon has always been a well-off area (especially around the village and the top end of the broadway) and one would think that a restaurateur would have seen the potential of setting up a great local restaurant in the style of Chez Bruce. Perhaps it’s to do with the overheads, or maybe the palettes of the local clientele are just not that sophisticated, who knows. It’s certainly not hard to find artisan and luxury goods, with purveyors like Bayley & Sage, Vallebona and Wimbledon Wine Cellar catering to high-end buyers with a very high credit limit – The platinum AMEX or Coutts card is the weapon of choice in these places, brandished with deadly efficiency like a Japanese shuriken.

I am being both a little indulgent and equally unfair. In the last few years, a couple of places, such as the Lawn Bistro and the Fox & Grapes have popped up. The latter has become a local institution and I have given it a good review on this blog, however it has three distinct problems: inconsistency in cooking, almost Michelin-level prices and it lacks atmosphere. I have eaten very well there but I have also eaten very badly. Sometimes its sloppiness, sometimes it’s over-ambition, occasionally just a little of both. It leaves one thinking that there is nowhere in the neighbourhood in which one can regularly get great plates of food on a daily basis… of course, this would be wrong.

The Lighthouse is a restaurant located on a busy thoroughfare known as the Ridgeway, which leads from Wimbledon Village through the vale, down to the A3. It has been going for quite a few years now and is the unsung hero of the local restaurant scene. I am personally surprised that I do not see it more in critics’ reviews or the local Archant/Zest Media glossies.

The cooking is modern European, very accurate and quite often excellent. To my mind it is the best restaurant in SW19. My most recent meal there? a couple of weeks ago, and I think that the menu that evening (on which I celebrated my 27^th year on this planet) was testament to the sterling work that is going on in their kitchen and the quality of the ingredients that they use.

I started with very clean plate of their homemade gravadlax, very fresh and delicate with a slightly mustard sauce, a perfect calling card and not to overpowering. With a cold, crisp glass of viognier, a few pieces of this and this starter was a welcome introduction ahead of the more gutsy main courses.

I chose the rump of lamb, three thick, medium-rare slices of meaty heaven with a beautifully caramelised top, producing a wonderfully meat flavour. This was paired with a smooth potato and pea puree and some lightly cooked cos lettuce and a lamb jus. I cleaned my plate!

To finish a surprisingly light, no frills treacle tart with citrus undertones and a generous dollop of cold, clotted cream. I’ve not got a big sweet tooth but this was an exception. I paired it with a glass of grappa which, the pure alcohol cutting through the sweetness perfectly.

Rounding off the meal with a cup of well made coffee, something so rare to find, I thought to myself that it would be nice if we could have more places to eat like this: full of creativity but without the pretention.

If you find yourself in Wimbledon and feeling peckish, you could do far worse than come to this lovely restaurant. 

Chez Bruce... a truly epic dining experience

There are some meals that linger in your mind long after you have eaten the last morsel and quaffed the last drop of wine. Such was the case with the meal that I had at Chez Bruce last Friday lunchtime. 

As with all memorable meals, it was a celebration. I had recently secured a new job and my success was being toasted by my family with gusto. I had been to Chez Bruce a couple of times before over the years so I was already familiar with the excellent cooking that comes out of the kitchen in this legendary South London restaurant. Arriving early I supped a half pint on Sambrook’s excellent Junction and cast my thoughts to the treat that was in store for me. 

Of course, there have been plenty of reviews of Chez Bruce over the years, a lone Michelin Star in what was the veritable gastronomic desert of South West London (having grown up in Wimbledon and Southfields this is no understatement). Established on the same site as the legendary Marco Pierre White venture Harveys (1987 - 1993), Chez Bruce was opened in 1995 by Bruce Poole, a chef who has an incredible pedigree across many of London’s top restaurants during the early 1990s. The food, to my mind is a modern interpretation of European classics, supported by one of the most interesting and inventive wine lists of any restaurant I have been to. 

Chez Bruce has been very popular since its establishment and the fame of its kitchen has spread across the country, but it still maintains the feel of a local institution. It is not an overly large restaurant and its position on Wandsworth Common gives it a welcoming, village feel. 

One o’clock soon came around and I entered into the cool, contemporary dining room with good acoustic and a clean feel. Usually I am not a particular fan of silver service and fine dining but Chez Bruce deliver it well without being intrusive. There is something quite pleasing about a crisp white linen table cloth, good quality napkins and sturdy cutlery, and I am pleased to write that the restaurant delivered on all counts. 

I was the first to arrive and whilst I waited I enjoyed a well-chilled glass of Meantime’s very reliable London Lager and some home made cheese straws, flecked with poppy and toasted sesame seeds. It was not a long wait and soon my mother and a very good family friend arrived to present me with a box of ten Montecristo No.4 cigars! Very nice indeed, the first of the box would be enjoyed post lunch, to aid the digestive progress. 

As it was a celebration a bottle of Champers was ordered with immediate effect. The Gratiot-Pillière, Tradition, Brut slipped down smoothly and was a much better foil for the cheese straw than the beer. I’m not a regular Champagne drinker but this was exceptionally good with a lovely light colour and a dry edge which lightly stroked the tongue rather than stripping off the tastebuds. 

Starters were ordered and and were thankfully presented after a reasonable gap, to allow us to enjoy our first drink. It is refreshing in an age where restaurants harry customers through their meal, so they can fill as many covers as possible throughout the day that, at Chez Bruce, you do not feel rushed in the slightest. The atmosphere was relaxed and the staff seamlessly glided through the restaurant being unobtrusive but also available at the diner’s request. 

My starter of crispy pig’s head with poached loin, celeriac, apple and sauce ravigote was very tasty. The unctuous croquette of pigs head with its meaty, slightly gelantinous texture disappeared quickly. The delicate, thinly slice loin was countered by a silky smooth quenelle of celeriac puree and some crisp matchstick of apple tossed through with Ravigote sauce (a vinaigrette with capers, herbs and cornichon), giving an acidic note to cut through the richness of the pork. My mother had a marvelously fresh chilled tomato consommé which was textbook in its preparation and held the concentrated flavour of fresh tomatoes, a spoonful of which would transport you to a cottage garden on a hot summer day. Our family friend had the Fishcakes with cmoked Haddock and clam  chowder, pancetta, pickled cucumber and chives, I didn’t try this but was assured that it was excellent. This was accompanied by more Champagne. 

We all chose Plaice fillets with beurre noisette, capers, warm charlotte potato salad, samphire and shrimps and accompanied this with a bottle of 2011 Soave Classico, La Rocca, Pieropan. What can I say... the head chef,  Matt Christmas and his team pulled out all the stops for this dish. It is definitely one of the best fish dishes I have ever, ever had. The plaice was so fresh that it reminded me of the quality of the catch served at the Hotel Atlantique in Wimereux. A more-ish beurre noisette (brown butter sauce) was dotted with sweet little shrimps and scattered with al dente samphire giving some pleasantly salty notes alongside the occasional caper. It was a triumph and it was all that I could do to resist licking the plate clean. A perfectly proportioned place, it was not too little and not too much, like baby bear’s porridge in that classic fairy tale, it was just right! 

I usually have something sweet for pudding but this was one of the rare occasions that I went for the cheese over Chez Bruce’s excellent Creme Brulee (to my mind, it’s by far the best in London). A plate of époisses, cerney and chällerhocker, was presented with some Membrillo (quince jelly), grapes and a basket of homemade fruitbread and oat biscuits. A lovely selection cheese, I am particularly fond of epoisses and this one was ripe and pungent, well offset by the hard chällerhocker which was somewhat like a Manchego and a surprising cerney, which is a creamy goats cheese and worked well on the fruit-bread. Oh and I finished of half of the velvety creme brulee my mother couldn’t manage, so it was a win-win situation. 

Coffees, homemade truffles and featherlight shortbread that melted on the mouth. What a brilliant meal. If you have the chance, make sure that you head down to Wandworth Common for some of the best food in the capital, cooked with skill and aplomb. As I sat in my garden afterwards with a cigar and a glass of Bruichladdich I ruminated on the meal, the perfect balance of the dishes and the convivial ambience of the restaurant. This was definitely a meal to remember!