John Walsh is at Allium in Gloucestershire, the current Good Food Guide Restaurant of the Year for south-west England. The Independent’s critic finds its atmosphere “oddly antiseptic”, and a dish of crayfish, coconut and sweetcorn is “the most revolting thing I’ve put in my mouth for ages”. There’s something odd about this review: Walsh’s “companion” speaks in complete, pre-formed critical paragraphs: “‘The fish itself is perfectly fresh and clean-tasting,” she said, “It’s quite flaky, erring on the side of underdone, but I don’t mind that. The problem is the lentils, which are weirdly flavoured as if they’ve been cooked with soy sauce.’” Who can she be?
Fay Maschler is in Mennula, “a great addition to the restaurants of Charlotte Street”. Nibbles of smoked almonds, “elastic” arancini, “small fat pizzas” are all good, and a dish of red mullet made the critic “sit up and think again about the potential for pleasure in dining”. There’s a “clear … heartfelt effort” to proceedings.
The Guardian’s Matthew Norman is in the Vincent Rooms, the brasserie attached to Westminster Kingsway Catering College, alma mater of Saint Jamie, AWT and others. This is “a venture that combines the indulgence of youth with professional rigour”, he says: “remarkably good for the money”. Osso bucco with risotto Milanese is “excellent”, while roast guinea fowl “would have graced a Michelin joint”.
AA Gill sallies to Wandsworth and Chez Bruce, regularly voted London’s favourite restaurant. He’s underimpressed: the “Frenchish” menu is “uninspiring”, and favours are “tiredly overfamiliar and all too similar”. A dish of pork done three ways is “pig autopsy”, and a pumpkin and Parmesan soup is “bland and too rich”.
Jay Rayner has been to John Burton Race’s new project, Harvey’s, in Ramsgate. (As indeed has Marina O’Loughlin.) Neither enjoyed the experience, and the Observer’s man feels customers aren’t “getting their money’s worth”. There’s “underripe” avocado, an “underpowered” scallop dish, “shoe-leather” pastry and a “lurid” green oyster. (It’s probably been eating algae.) Rayner openly says of JBR: “I detest him,” and explains why.
Toby Young finally makes it to Pierre Koffman’s pop-up at Selfridge’s, now that every man and his dog have already been. Quite enough has been said about this place; Young echoes a lot of critics by saying the food is “not mind-blowing enough to justify the prices”, while his wife’s vegetarian dinner was a “serious let-down”.
Marina O’Loughlin visits Mark Hix’s new joint in Soho and brings a rare dose of perspective. “I find the cooking ordinary and the welcome, unless you’re part of Hix’s meeja-fabulous world, a bit chilly,” she says. Heaven and earth tastes of “fresh scab”, and cods’ tongues are “soggy”, though the bar is “wonderful”.
“A late contender for gastropub opening of the year,” says Euan Ferguson of Orange in Pimlico. Writing in Time Out, Ferguson refers to Deuchars beer as “too-rarely seen”: I couldn’t disagree more. But he’s very impressed with the place, and its “simple but satisfying” salt cod croquettes, “winner” pizza, and “perfectly pink” lamb.
And “Rhys Chris Peas”, on the stalwart London Review of Breakfasts blog, is in Mayfair’s Automat, which sounds like a novel. He drawls: “it’s the best goddam breakfast you gonna find in London”: it includes steak (steak?) and “a grilled toma[y]to as big as a man’s fist”. It’s 15 quid for a fry up, and he urges us to steer clear of pancakes and muesli.