Lunch at The Waterside Inn (Menu Exceptionnel, Autumn 2012)

It was back to The Waterside Inn this afternoon for a leisurely weekend lunch. A few weeks ago, I had come across the autumn tasting menu on their website, and was really attracted by the authenticity of most of the dishes - as you will see, quite a few of them are true Waterside signatures - so I booked myself a table before the restaurant changes its menus in early November for the winter season.

Upon my arrival at about 1.30 pm, I was quite surprised at all the empty tables around me, since the restaurant is usually full. Diego explained upon greeting me that the traffic situation was particularly bad in the surrounding areas, so many customers were late (I wouldn't have known since I came on the train from London) - true enough, tables started filling up within half an hour of my arrival, and the restaurant returned to its usual lively atmosphere with cheerful banter all round.

Diego also offered me the latest publication from the restaurant so I wouldn't get bored in between courses. This was the commemorative magazine issued in conjunction with The Waterside Inn's 40th birthday (which in fact happened very recently, in early September). I was pleasantly surprised to read that Diego had been awarded a knighthood (Cavaliere Ordine al Merito della Repubblica Italiana) by his native Italian government, in recognition of his contributions towards the hospitality and catering industry. Apparently, he is the only person from his field so far to have received the Italian Order of Merit - a testimony to the high standards of service and training he has offered at The Waterside Inn for the past few decades.

At my favourite corner again

Canapés: tempura prawn with wasabi mayonnaise and lime, Welsh rarebit, anchovy cheese & olive oil sticks, duck rillette with hazelnut and gherkin on a crouton base.

The prawn tempura was definitely my favourite. A sweet and juicy large prawn with a firm spring in the bite, encased in crispy batter, paired with velvety and slightly spicy mayonnaise, and a strip of preserved lime zest for balance and stimulation to the palate - what could possibly beat this combination?

The Welsh rarebit was pretty indulgent too - basically melted Cheddar cheese on toast, blended with savoury ingredients such as Worcestershire sauce. A touch of spicy plum chutney on top provided welcome refreshment and a slight jolt to the palate.

This generous portion of duck rillette on a crouton slice was another favourite of mine alongside the prawn tempura. It was very well seasoned, and the tender and finely shredded duck meat had been blended with its own fat to produce a texture that was succulent and creamy all at once. The hazelnut contributed a nice crunch as well as a characteristic flavour that rode subtly upon the rich taste of the duck, while the sourish gherkin slice was an apt balance for the overall lushness of this canapé.

The feather-light cheese & olive oil sticks (no close-up shot) were a burst of savoury flavours, studded with bits of brined anchovy that had a firm bite and strong taste. These seem to be a staple canapé here, with good reason I suppose - they are very moreish indeed!

First course: lobster salad served on a delicate citrus jelly, with a raspberry vinaigrette dressing.

This was a refreshing masterpiece, full of vibrant colours, which set the tone for a luxurious, sophisticated and elegant meal ahead. A generous amount of lobster chunks was simply sat alongside thin slices of citrus jelly and fresh fruit (including grapefruit and clementine), and a light raspberry vinaigrette dressing was poured over the dish. The judicious use of raspberries and citrus fruit accentuated the natural sweetness of fresh lobster very effectively, without any risk of overwhelming its delicate flavour with their characteristic tartness. The lobster itself was very well handled, resulting in an exceptional texture - firm, moist and with a good spring in the bite. This was gastronomy at the highest level - unfussy, precise and harmonious, allowing the quality of each ingredient to speak for itself.

Second course: terrine of pressed foie gras and supreme of guinea fowl with truffle, young red chard salad leaves, leeks, pickled girolles and celery & broccoli purée. Served with a slice of warm toasted brioche (not pictured).

I had requested for this dish from the à la carte menu to replace the original chestnut and champagne velouté course in the tasting menu, which was obliged by the assistant restaurant manager without any hassle. I had a good reason to do so - The Waterside Inn is one of only two restaurants in the UK (the other being Restaurant Gordon Ramsay) to offer authentic pressed foie gras au torchon ('in a towel'), made from whole lobes of liver briefly roasted in the oven, cut into pieces and set in a mould, then wrapped in a large towel and kept under a traditional press for 24 hours, before being sliced and served at room temperature. In keeping with true French tradition, goose liver, not the by-now cheaper and more common liver of duck, is used in this restaurant - its higher fat content and smooth texture make it the perfect ingredient for cold preparations such as terrines (cooking at high temperatures causes it to disintegrate quickly). 

Here, the marvellous slab presented in front of me was incredibly dense and velvety in texture, with a delicate musky flavour. Two thin layers of autumn truffle shavings within the terrine and drops of truffle sauce boosted the aroma and taste of the dish with their characteristic pungence. On the side, a cone of guinea fowl consommé jelly provided an intense savoury focus, while the vegetable garnish provided a welcome breath of fresh air amidst this sheer indulgence. Two unusual components are worth mentioning: first, the pickled girolles, which had been marinated in vinegar, then dipped in honey just before serving to give it a really nice sweet-sour taste, in addition to its naturally earthy flavour (perfect with the truffles) and succulent texture. Also, the celery purée had a surprisingly deep savoury taste whilst remaining very light and refreshing in texture: upon further enquiry with my server, it was revealed that broccoli had been in the mix to impart additional flavours to the purée. A thick slice of toasted brioche, which was wonderfully warm, crisp and fluffy to the bite, completed this truly amazing take on a classic French dish.

Third course: fillet of turbot baked in a vine leaf, served with white grapes, celeriac, cucumber and a verjus emulsion.

Along with the lobster starter, this was one of my favourite courses from the tasting menu. One bite of the fish was all it took to convince me that this was the epitome of perfection - I appreciate how difficult it is to cook fish well (a few minutes either way makes a huge difference to its texture and taste), so I was really in awe at how smooth, moist and tender this rather thick chunk of fish turned out. Its fresh, delicate flavour (lightly seasoned with only salt, pepper and olive oil before baking on a bed of rock salt) and natural moisture were completely retained and enhanced by the subtly fragrant vine leaf (picked from Michel Roux Sr.'s vineyards in Provence and blanched), the sweet sliced grape topping, and, most importantly, the verjus sauce - a velvety reduction of cream, fresh butter, shallots (their wonderful aroma rode upon every bite of this dish!), celery, fish stock, and verjus, the juice from pressed green grapes which possessed a mild acidity that balanced the overall sweetness and richness of the dish. Celeriac was offered as an accompaniment in three different ways: as paper-thin deep fried chips, sitting atop a thick purée blended with milk and cream, and also as a boiled cube, on which a whole grape and amaranth shoots were sat for mainly aesthetic purposes. Finally, prior to serving, the fish was lightly drizzled with argan oil (produced from the kernels of argan trees in Morocco, and known for its health-giving properties), which gave it a very subtle nutty flavour. On the whole, this course was the ultimate in culinary elegance - sophistication at its core producing a tasty, well-balanced and seemingly effortless result.

(You can watch a video of Alain Roux preparing this dish here.)

Fourth course: roasted loin of venison in a pastry crust stuffed with spinach and a mousse of chicken and wild mushrooms, garnished with broccoli florets, sautéed girolles, and Hermitage wine sauce with blackcurrant vinegar.

The venison loin, done medium rare on the assistant restaurant manager's recommendation, was extremely tender, succulent and easy to cut through despite the thickness of the chunk. Its full-bodied flavour was well matched by the red wine sauce, made from Syrah grapes grown in their spiritual home on the hill above the town of Tain-l'Hermitage, south of Lyon, in the northern Rhône wine region of France. The earthy and berry flavours of this wine sauce were also complemented by the wild mushroom pastry stuffing and the garnish of girolles and blackcurrants. A touch of blackcurrant vinegar in the sauce mix imparted a mild acidity that effectively cut through the richness of the meat. Vegetable accompaniments of broccoli and spinach provided a healthy balance to this lavish and satisfying course.

Pre-dessert: basil sorbet with passionfruit mousse.

This was a most welcome relief after all the excellent and indulgent courses that had preceded it. The sorbet was jam-packed with the refreshing taste and aroma of basil, and this was paired aptly with passionfruit mousse that both cleansed and set up the tastebuds for the following desserts, with its characteristically acidic flavour. This reminded me instantly of the little treat that I had received at the end of my 8-course meal at Silvio Nickol in Vienna in late July.

Fifth course: sliced pears and blueberries in shortbread biscuits, served with a red fruit coulis.

The first thing that struck me about this dessert was how much richer it tasted than it looked. Sandwiched between two pieces of delicate and buttery shortbread biscuits were thin slices of fresh pear that had been soaked in pear liqueur for an hour to give an incredibly soft, juicy texture and deep flavour. The cream atop the pear slices also carried strong hints of pear liqueur. Despite the rather generous amount, the cream never felt too cloying due to its surprisingly light and airy texture. The accompanying red fruit coulis, with blueberries and mint, had just the right balance of sweetness and acidity, and was a refreshingly effective contrast to the understated intensity of the pear-and-shortbread sandwich.

Sixth course: warm golden plum (mirabelle) soufflé.

There is nothing like a good soufflé to finish a fine traditional French meal, and this certainly didn't disappoint. A classic of The Waterside Inn and a seasonal staple since the early days of the restaurant, this soufflé was at the same time feather-light & fluffy in texture, and robust in flavour, due to the use of mirabelle schnapps in the crème pâtissière (flour-thickened custard) base. According to Alain Roux, the addition of alcohol to all sorts of dishes for an extra 'kick' in flavours is the family's signature style (to which the previous dessert can surely attest!). The crème pâtissière base was blended with mirabelle purée and fresh soft meringue to a consistently smooth texture before baking. The result, rising beautifully and evenly from the ramekin, tasted every bit as good as it looked - fruity but not overly sweet, with juicy whole mirabelles poached in light syrup (scattered within the mixture as well as placed on top), and the powerful and invigorating taste of mirabelle schnapps in every spoonful. A soufflé might look very plain and simple, but is in fact incredibly difficult to execute as masterfully as this!

(You can watch a video of Alain Roux preparing this dessert here.)

The customary tea and petit fours at the end of another brilliant meal here:

White nougat, lemon madeleine, palmier,
raspberry financier

Dark chocolate ganache, caramel macaron (new),
Gianduja nougat, pear & vanilla pastille (new),
passionfruit tartlette, cannele

Great food, outstanding service - quite simply the perfect way to spend a weekend afternoon. I look forward to returning for the winter menu early next year!

Lunch at Dabbous (Tasting Menu)

So, after a six-month wait since my reservation in April, I finally made it to Dabbous this afternoon with my friend Lindsay. This restaurant is now arguably London's hottest dining spot, and its meteoric rise to fame can be traced back to one person, whose favourable reviews Gordon Ramsay claims to be better for business than a Michelin star - Fay Maschler, the food critic of London's Evening Standard newspaper. She had given Dabbous a perfect score of five stars and called it a 'game-changer' just a fortnight after it opened in January (apparently only the third time she has done so in the past three years). Since then, uncountable superlatives have been heaped upon the restaurant by the rest of the gastronomic fraternity, and true to The Times' critic Giles Coren's prediction that Dabbous would be 'stuffed with Michelin stars like a Périgord goose, until his liver is so fat with processing accolades that he cannot walk', the restaurant has just been awarded its first Michelin star in the 2013 guide, barely months after opening. By now it is officially fully booked well into March next year, but if you're really tempted by this review and can't wait to go, there will be a few tips at the end of this post on how you might stand a better chance of getting in before then. :)

Prior to striking out on his own, the chef Ollie Dabbous had worked in top kitchens such as Le Manoir, The Fat Duck and Noma - a pretty impressive way to start a culinary career, methinks. And he's exactly the same age as I! (sighs of envy...) As you can probably tell, this was a lunch which I was really looking forward to, and for which I had extremely high expectations. As always, the niggling concern in my mind was whether the restaurant would live up to its hype - expectations can be a double-edged sword.

A short walk from my hostel in the Bloomsbury area, through University of London colleges and quaint little shops and cafés, took us to Fitzrovia, where Dabbous is located just across the street from another well-known London attraction, the Pollock Toy Museum.

Lindsay must be rather amused by my obsession with photography... ;)

Small space, rugged feel - 'industrial chic' they call it.

No fancy tableware or posh white tablecloths - the first impression of the place was charmingly rough and casual, more bistro than fine-dining in atmosphere. The staff were also extremely warm and friendly. We felt at ease almost immediately, without feeling the need to observe any formalities that often come with restaurants of this rank.

Without hesitation, we both opted for the tasting menu to cover all of the restaurant's signature dishes. I should mention that at £54 for 7 courses, this is probably the cheapest and best-value Michelin-starred tasting menu you will find in London. Some online reviews have complained about the small portions of food, which, as you will see, I completely fail to understand - I am a pretty big eater and I was well stuffed by the end of the lunch!

A bowl of Nocellara del Belice green olives was all we had to start, no amuse-bouche whatsoever - not that it really mattered. This was surprisingly fresh (non-greasy) and fruity (sweet), with none of the extreme salty bitterness that is a typical result of the process of preservation.

Homemade seeded sourdough bread arrived soon after, and true to the restaurant's casual atmosphere, was served to us in a brown paper bag, with a date stamp to prove that it was freshly baked. The bread was so good I ate my portion before remembering to take a picture of it, but I can tell you it had a wonderfully smoky and savoury flavour that instantly reminded me of the barbecued pork sheets ('bak kwa') that one normally eats as part of Chinese New Year celebrations back home (I think honey-glazed ham would be the Western equivalent of this taste). The bread's texture was also excellent - warm, very fluffy and with a thin and perfectly crisp crust. I was already won over by this moment.

My new cover girl for the blog haha!

First course (a): hispi cabbage with sunflower mayonnaise, sunflower seeds and sunflower petals.

Hispi cabbage: a type of green cabbage with a pointed head. The leaves are more open than those of a normal cabbage and they have a softer texture and sweeter taste.

This was Lindsay's starter and it was introduced as a finger food - indeed, no cutlery was necessary for this dish. One simply peeled the cabbage off layer by layer and used the pieces to scoop up the dip of sunflower mayonnaise and seeds. This was extremely simple yet effective - the light, tender and sweet cabbage leaves were the perfect foil for a rich, smooth, nutty and slightly savoury cream, with a generous amount of whole seeds mixed in for a delightful crunch. The straightforward and elegant presentation allowed the quality of each component in the small bowl to shine through and stimulate the senses even before a bite had been taken.

First course (b): pumpkin with orange blossom, macadamia and rosemary soy cream.

For variety's sake I had asked to substitute the hispi and sunflower dish with this, and certainly did not regret my choice. Sweet steamed pumpkin with a amazingly creamy and velvety texture was aptly combined with a subtler soy-based cream infused with the unmistakeably sweet scent of rosemary. Some of the cream had been thickened with kuzu (a premium Japanese starch extracted from the roots of the mountain plant with the same name), resulting in a thin solid layer which was very smooth and delicate (reminiscent of the texture of yuba, or Japanese soymilk skin). Amidst these refined textures and flavours, the crunchy macadamias and peppery rocket garnish delivered a subtle, full-bodied kick to the palate which enhanced the dish's overall character. A vibrant masterpiece which tasted every bit as good as it looked.

Second course: celeriac with muscat grapes, lovage and hazelnuts.

This was an incredibly refreshing cold dish. Translucent paper-thin sheets of blanched celeriac (a root vegetable related to and tasting like celery) were cast in a pretty fan-shaped arrangement, and surrounded by a pool of celeriac juice with lashings of olive oil. The overall lightness and subtlety of this dish was amazing. The mildly sweet celeriac went hand-in-hand with the sweet juicy grapes and the exceptionally fruity olive oil (the taste of this olive oil will stick with me for quite a while!). The lovage garnish, with a scent and flavour akin to celery, was entirely appropriate, while the roasted hazelnuts were a welcome boost to the dish with their characteristic flavour and crunch. The chef's penchant for nuts was becoming obvious by now, though their judicious use always ensured that a dish never lost its focus and its generally delicate balance.

Third course: coddled free-range hen egg with woodland mushrooms and smoked butter.

A signature dish of the restaurant, this was the ultimate in comfort food, with the most charming presentation. It was nothing more than a rich velvety mixture of egg, melted butter and mushrooms, returned to its shell and placed within a nest of hay. Every spoonful yielded the most delightful savoury flavours, with the mushrooms and finely chopped chives contributing a further depth in taste and aroma that couldn't have made one wish for anything else. This was without any doubt our favourite dish within the tasting menu. Shame it was gone all too quickly!

Fourth course: braised halibut with coastal herbs, blanched celery, pickled garlic, and lemon verbena sauce.

This was the most amazing halibut I have eaten in a while, matched only by the halibut dish I had as part of the tasting menu at Marcus Wareing way back in January. One normally expects this fish to possess naturally a more meaty texture, but this fillet was incredibly moist, tender and smooth. The creamy but light sauce, with its fresh lemongrass-like flavour, was the perfect complement to the silky and delicate-tasting fish. A garnish of coastal herbs contributed further aromas. Juicy, refreshing and mildly sweet celery sticks provided a nice bite with no trace of an off-putting fibrous and chewy mouthfeel (it has to do with how the celery was peeled and sliced I think - most likely along natural fibre lines instead of a cross-sectional approach). The pickled garlic was the most prominent element on the plate - just three slices with a pretty pink colour, a naturally appealing aroma, and a subtle acidity to stimulate and prepare the palate without disrupting the gentle balance of the dish. Actually, this reminded me somewhat of steamed fish dishes back home, especially in the use of pickles and mild herb sauces that enhance but do not overpower the refined taste of high-quality fish. Lindsay loved this dish too, which made it seem all the more remarkable when she told me later that she was actually more of a meat person and probably wouldn't have ordered it à la carte without knowing what was in store.

Fifth course: barbecued Iberico pork, savoury acorn praline, turnip tops and apple vinegar.

This was a very pleasant and luxurious dish. A generous chunk of the best pork variety was lightly seasoned with salt and other condiments that enhanced its naturally rich flavour when cooked. Done medium rare, it remained surprisingly tender and succulent despite being very lean with minimal marbling. The acorns with which pampered Iberian pigs are fed made their appearance on this dish in a form of a chunky sauce with a wonderfully smoky taste (very similar to the sourdough bread which was served at the beginning!). Shredded crunchy turnip tops and a sweet-sour apple vinaigrette provided welcome refreshment amidst this  sheer extravagance.

Sixth course: fig, pistachio, and fresh milk curd infused with fig leaves.

This was the first of two desserts and a well-conceived contrast to the substantial previous course. Half a fresh fig with a very sweet taste and a rich, almost creamy flesh was juxtaposed with a light, refreshing and mildly scented milk curd. I was expecting the latter to taste like a tofu derivative, but it was actually a little sourish (perfect for the fig) - true enough, when I clarified this with our server, he informed us that Greek yoghurt was in the mix. The numerous small edible seeds within the fig were well matched in texture by roughly chopped pistachios, which also provided further depth in flavour amidst the overall delicacy.

Last course: chocolate soaked brioche, azuki beans (large Japanese red beans), pecans, barley malt ice cream.

An opulent ending to an impressive meal, this was a picture of complete and unashamed indulgence, perfect for those with an extremely sweet tooth. A large scoop of rich and velvety barley malt (i.e. Horlicks) ice cream was sat atop an indulgent bowl of dark chocolate 'soil', made of a mixture of finely crushed chocolate biscuits and sporadic chunks of soft, moist and airy brioche bread, soaked (yes, soaked) in generous lashings of rich chocolate sauce, with red beans and pecans scattered throughout for further flavour and crunch. Lindsay had to leave half her dessert because it was too much for her, and I gladly finished it along with my own portion! A real treat indeed.

After the meal, we asked to visit the kitchen and greet the chef, which the service staff promptly obliged. Dabbous came across as a genuinely down-to-earth person who sweats it out in the kitchen with the rest of the guys, and looks just like one of them. During our brief conversation in the very cramped kitchen he admitted to being occasionally overwhelmed by the extreme popularity and business of his new restaurant (fully booked well into next year, as I've mentioned at the beginning of this review), but that it was a nice problem to have (I'm sure!). Here's a picture of the man himself cleaning up towards the end of the lunch service:

Me and Ollie Dabbous

Petit four: canelé with a sour cherry topping. This traditional French custard pastry from the Bordeaux region with an airy dough centre, a dark, thick caramelised crust and a characteristic cylindrical shape was simple and pleasing; the juicy sour cherry topping provided further textures and a refreshing balancing flavour. Served on a ceramic plate with intricate designs in an Oriental style.

Just before leaving we made a short detour to the basement bar, which was largely empty at this time of the day, but gets busy in the evenings. And here comes the tip for those of you who are unlikely to get a reservation at Dabbous anytime soon: simply visit the basement bar where you can get excellent cocktails made by Dabbous' business partner Oskar Kinberg, and sample a bar menu that features certain signature dishes from the main kitchen, such as the hen egg and Iberico pork. Or you could simply try a walk-in during the later part of each service, by which time some tables would have been vacated. There were a few empty tables after 2 pm (the lunch service ends at 3 pm), from people who left before us.

Trendy bar with a rough, industrial ambience,
in keeping with the rest of the restaurant.

Nice space to chill out, I can imagine!

This was a wonderful first experience and we both left feeling very impressed. I certainly felt that this was much more satisfying than the lunch I had at Sketch last week. If Dabbous maintains this high standard of food and service, he will be destined for even greater accolades in the long term. I hope to see him get his second Michelin star very soon and I definitely want to return whenever I can get a table!

Lunch (Tasting Menu) at Sketch Lecture Room and Library

The 2013 Michelin ratings for the UK were announced just under 2 weeks ago, and a new 2-starred restaurant, Sketch, was added to London's dining scene. Opened in 2002 and a 1-starred restaurant since 2005, it is the brainchild of French master chef Pierre Gagnaire and restaurateur Mourad Mazouz. As you will see from the pictures of the interiors, this 18th-century building has been completely redesigned as a centre for food, art and music, in a bold experimental style close to the hearts of both founders, and true to its heritage as the former headquarters of the Royal Institute of British Architects, as well as the atelier of Christian Dior for 15 years. Currently, Sketch houses a fine-dining restaurant (the Michelin-starred Lecture Room and Library, run by Gagnaire protégés Jean-Denis Le Bras and Roel Lintermans), a more casual brasserie, a tea room, two bars with house DJs, and an art gallery.

18th-century Georgian exterior typical of
buildings in London's Mayfair district

Anyone for a game of hopscotch? :)

Plaque commemorating RIBA's presence
from 1887 - 1909

Funky chair in the reception area

Stairs leading up to the Lecture Room and Library

Corridor with toilets on the side

The toilets are built almost entirely
out of Swarovski crystal!

Mannequin just outside the restaurant

The cavernous main dining room

Having had a very strong impression of the décor, it was time to refocus and concentrate on the food and service. Would this restaurant live up to its newly upgraded Michelin status, or would it be just another watered-down celebrity outpost? Would the dishes, claiming to be as adventurous and imaginative as in Gagnaire's 3-starred Paris flagship, actually work as a whole, or would it be a case of too many cooks spoiling the broth? These were the main questions that I hoped to answer as I ordered the full tasting menu, which is usually the best representation of the kitchen's capabilities.

A impressive array of canapés (or feuilletés as they call it here) soon arrived at my table. It reminded me somewhat of my experience at Silvio Nickol in Vienna. I will go into each item in detail.

Feuilleté 1: sauerkraut foam with bits of Morteau sausage and potato. I was advised to eat this first as it was the only warm item. This was very tasty and comforting; I'm not sure why it was called a 'foam' when it was more like a rich cream soup, but that didn't really matter. The tiny chewy bits offered a nice contrast in texture within the smoothness and velvetiness of the soup.

Feuilleté 2: parmesan sablé. These were incredibly delicate, crisp, and moreish. I was reminded of those little egg biscuits (with exactly the same shape) sold in small packets in local grocery shops back home, which were my favourite snack as a child.

Feuilleté 3: a trio consisting of spinach financier with Stichelton (a traditional English blue cheese made of unpasteurised milk) cream, shaped like a macaron; seabass sashimi wrapped in fresh kelp; goat cheese parfait. The cheesy morsels were extremely overpowering in flavours and aromas (I couldn't detect any flavours in the spinach sponge layers, for example), and a little too heavy for starters for my taste. The seabass sashimi was a welcome relief - fresh, clean-tasting, with a nice firm bite. It had been marinated in a sourish substance (most likely rice vinegar) and the unmistakeable hint of shiso (perilla leaf) was as delightful as it was refreshing.

Feuilleté 4: cumin crackers and artichoke cream with olive oil and coffee powder. This was the most sophisticated of the starters and also my favourite. The characteristic scent of cumin on feather-light crisps, paired with a sweet artichoke cream dip made even richer in flavour and texture by the use of olive oil, and ending on a subtly bitter note with a sprinkling of coffee powder, was an absolutely lethal combination.

Bread and butter: just two types of bread, white and brown, served with two types of butter, natural unsalted butter and seaweed butter. I particularly loved the latter for its savoury flavours (it's that indescribably complex 'umami') and little chewy bits, but the perfectly smooth and rich unsalted version was really good too.

It was around this time that my server explained to me that full menu details would be found in the small folder at the far end of my table, and that he would answer any further questions on the dishes if necessary. This reminded me of the service style at Steirereck in Vienna. Sketch's menu does list the main components of each dish, which is good considering the typical complexity of Gagnaire's style, but, unlike Steirereck, gives no further details regarding cooking methods or provenance of more unusual ingredients. (In any case, the same information can be found on Sketch's website.) Personally, I'd have liked a little more engagement and proactiveness in service. At some of the best restaurants I've experienced, dishes are often introduced with great pride, complete with secondary ingredients / garnishes not always listed on the menu, cooking methods and flavour profile. Admittedly it is always difficult to please everyone in such matters; perhaps there are diners who do dislike lengthy introductions to each dish and just want to eat.

First course: diced foie gras paté, Nyons olives, olive oil, olive powder and olive jelly, watermelon and mirin, rose petal and mint sprinkling, red pepper coulis.

Nyons olives: named after the town in southern France around which they are grown, this highly localised cultivar is probably the best known French olive worldwide. It is also known as the Tanche olive or the black pearl (perle noire) of Provence. The mature fruit is violet black in colour, and is equally suited for table use and for extraction of oil (which, by the way, enjoys the unique status amongst olive oils of an appellation, granted by the French government in 1994).

This first course was a prime example of why I would prefer to have my server explain a dish and its conception instead of relying on a scanty information card, because I simply didn't understand how it was put together. To be sure, the quality of individual components was never in doubt. The cured olives and their derivatives were particularly outstanding. However, being used disproportionately to the other components resulted in such an overwhelming salty bitterness that when taken together I almost couldn't taste the foie gras, and the mint garnish and pepper coulis simply faded into oblivion, leaving behind only a very faint hint of spiciness. The sweet and juicy watermelon cubes marinated with mirin were a welcome respite but there were too few of them. On the whole, I felt that this dish was heavily imbalanced in terms of flavour and lacked a proper focus - or should I say, the focus was on the wrong ingredient, however excellent it might have been.

Second course: sea bream marinated in konbu (Japanese kelp), brown shrimps, buckwheat pancake, mange tout, oyster leaves, artichoke and turnip cream.

This was a better dish, though not without its problems. The taste of the raw sea bream was unusually fishy, presumably because of the marination with seaweed (I was initially worried that it might not be as fresh as it should have been, but my stomach was perfectly fine after the meal, so no complaints). Perhaps this fishy taste was intentional; it blended perfectly with the oyster leaf garnish, which, as its name suggests, really tasted like raw oysters! The shrimp and mange tout toppings were also appropriate, if not particularly outstanding. Below the slithers of fish was a thin buckwheat pancake which would have been excellent with its mild nutty flavour if not for the fact that it had become a little soggy from the moisture in the fish. The one surprise component and highlight of this dish (which was not even on the original menu description and which I had to clarify with my server) was a small dollop of artichoke and turnip cream which I uncovered below the pancake - sweet, smooth and rich in texture, it was the perfect foil for the predominantly savoury flavours on this plate.

Third course: roast hand-dived Scottish scallops, baked ricotta, artichoke purée with summer truffle, pickled artichokes, Paris (button) mushroom consommé with tapioca and shaved raw mushrooms.

This was a very good dish. The scallops were cooked to tender and juicy perfection, and their natural sweetness was complemented as well as given a further touch of richness by the baked ricotta and artichoke purée. The mushroom and truffle components of this dish gave it the most intoxicating aromas and a full-bodied, earthy overall flavour, while the tiny tapioca balls within the consommé contributed a delightfully chewy texture. The only minor part of this dish I didn't understand was the use of pickled artichokes. Their acidity stuck out like a sore thumb, and I think it'd have been perfectly fine to have them simply poached and preserving their natural sweet flavour.

Fourth course: lightly-cooked blue lobster, pickled girolles, aged Gruyère, traditional bisque.

Blue lobster: there are two possibilities for this crustacean - either a 1-in-2 million blue-shelled occurence due to a genetic mutation in the lobster itself (no harm to humans though, and the flesh turns a normal red anyway when cooked), or a common blue-shelled acquarium crayfish that often goes by the same name. Considering the extreme rarity and protected status of a real blue lobster, I am inclined to believe that it was the latter which was being served here.

This was probably the best savoury course of the tasting menu. The lobster slices were juicy, sweet and succulent, and the bisque that was poured over it was both aromatic and  concentrated in flavour. I was a little concerned that the grated mature Gruyère cheese on the side could overpower the rest of the dish with its characteristically intense smell and taste, but in fact it was a very good match for the bisque and helped to enhance the dish's overall impact. Again, the pickled girolles were the only thing I didn't understand; they would have been perfect for this dish with their strong aroma and naturally earthy flavour, but the pickling produced a sharp taste that was more distracting than it was refreshing (presumably, it had been done to balance the richness of the other components on the plate).

Fifth course: Challans duck fillet with red port sauce and Sarawak black pepper, marmalade of red cabbage and quetsch (plum) with diced red cabbage and onion.

A solid dish with no apparent quirks. The duck was very well cooked and remained moist and tender throughout the rather thick portion. The port sauce with hints of cinnamon and cloves, and a sprinkling of black pepper, was delicious and complemented the naturally strong-tasting meat very well. On the side, a sourish marmalade with finely chopped vegetables mixed in was a refreshing balance to the meat, and also contributed a nice crunchy bite. Judicious use of red onions (both in the marmalade as well as fresh slices) gently enhanced the overall aromas of the dish without overpowering its main focus.

Dessert: Pierre Gagnaire's Grand Dessert - a combination of five small treats, which I was advised by my server to eat in a particular order. There was a real sense of progression of flavours in this little journey, which I will now describe in greater detail.

First: alternating layers of marzipan, lemon cream, macaron biscuit and kirsch parfait coated in white chocolate, topped with a strip of candied angelica, and surrounded by dollops of marzipan in a pretty star-shaped bowl. This was very refreshing, with the acidity of the lemon cream balancing the sweetness of the other parts very well. The strongly-flavoured kirsch parfait and marzipan also imparted a real body and character to this delicious morsel. The variety of textures was also quite impressive - from the chewy and grainy marzipan, to the smooth and light lemon cream, to the crisp and fluffy macaron biscuit, and the rich velvety parfait encased in a thin layer of crunchy white chocolate.

Second: Strawberry sorbet with eau de vie, vanilla infused milk, strawberry wurtz, pistachio crumble. This was very fruity and pleasant. An incredibly light strawberry sorbet was nestled in a pool of equally delicate strawberry-flavoured avocado cream (wurtz is a kind of mini avocado). The base was a wonderfully rich and velvety vanilla milk custard. To top it off, strawberry eau de vie was poured over giving the dessert an even richer flavour, and sprinklings of pistachio crumble imparted a nice crunch in the texture.

Third: Bailey's cream, mint mousse, coffee jelly, yoghurt sorbet. A sort of transition from dainty, fruity desserts into more substantial territory, the intense Bailey's cream and relatively generous amount of coffee jelly (not just the topping but also hidden at the bottom) were perfect partners for each other. These were aptly balanced by an extremely refreshing mint mousse and yoghurt sorbet. A really nice palate cleanser, yet with strong hints of what was to come.

Fourth: Candied fennel with star anise, bitter almond ice cream, celery, fennel compote. This was my favourite of the five treats. The perfect pairing of subtle fennel and anise aromas in a sugared disc set the stage for an ice cream that was rich, full-bodied and not cloyingly sweet. Bits of chopped almonds on top provided a delightful bite in the texture, while shreds of celery were like a breath of fresh air amidst this indulgence. A further surprise was to be found below the ice-cream: a smooth, sweet-sour layer of fennel compote ended the dessert on the same fragrant and invigorating note on which it had started.

Fifth dessert: liquorice panna cotta, chocolate ganache, Guanaja chocolate ice cream, warm chocolate sauce. Fittingly the most substantial of the treats, the different versions of chocolate were excellent, and the warm chocolate sauce was both comforting and an appealing contrast in temperature to the rest of the dessert. It was a shame that I didn't like the panna cotta; the strangely medicinal flavour of liquorice must be a very personal and acquired taste. Thankfully, it was sat on a rich chocolate biscuit with a layer of caramel in between, so that helped somewhat to alleviate the extremely bitter aftertaste of the liquorice.

Petit fours: basil and lemon tartlette, apricot and peach raviolina with poppy jelly, marzipan and lavender flower in the first picture; plum and red port marmalade with soft lemon meringue in the second. The tartlette was the best, with a good balance of sweetness and acidity and scented with the delightful aromas of basil throughout - simple and effective. The raviolina was pleasant enough; I particularly liked the jelly layer which had a great nutty flavour and a firm chewy texture. The marzipan was surprisingly smooth and not too sweet. However, the flower's scent was rather weak, perhaps overwhelmed by the complexity and characteristic flavours of the other components on the tiny biscuit base. The marmalade with meringue in a spoon was strangely bland with just a touch of generic sourness; this was the most indistinctive.

The way the restaurant presents the bill is rather unique, though being a book lover I can't say I agree with its approach. My heart ached not at the bill, but at the hollowed-out chunk of what otherwise seemed to be a perfectly acceptable read. At the risk of sounding moralistic I will say that this is not the way to treat books even if one got them at a throw-out sale.

By the way, as I learnt only when I got the bill, tap water isn't free here - this is the first Michelin-starred restaurant I've visited so far to charge for it, and I'm really not sure that the quality of London's tap water justifies that.

More pictures of the building as I was leaving:

The adjoining dining room within the restaurant

The Glade, a place for afternoon tea, designed in the
style of an enchanted fairy tale forest, with vintage
rattan furniture from the south of France

Mouthwatering pastries on offer

The Gallery, a colourful gastro-brasserie, conceived by
Turner Prize-winning artist Martin Creed; the floor,
every single wall and piece of furniture are all
one-of-a-kind if you look carefully

Space Age toilets with the trendy East Bar within the dome

Egg-shaped toilet cubicles with a colourful skylight

The Parlour, another tea room just by the entrance to Sketch

Summary notes: very eclectic cooking with a seeming penchant for Japanese inspirations; occasionally hit-and-miss with certain elements within a dish disrupting the harmony of flavours on the plate (but perhaps that was intentional?). Apparently the restaurant had been a bit of a left-field choice for an upgrade amongst the Michelin inspectors, and I can totally understand why. Regarding service, front-of-house was excellent (almost a tad too zealous I thought), especially David and his lady colleague at the reception area. They both welcomed me very warmly and offered to pose for photographs after the meal; David also took me on a brief tour of the building, and thinking I was on a business trip, offered (posh!) recommendations on where else to go for food and drink in the city. My server for lunch, a young French lad, was professional if a little distant; he did answer all my questions on the food patiently, and promptly obliged when I asked for a written description of the diverse canapés and petit fours for my records. However, his introductions to the dishes were rather brief and formulaic (presumably because the printed menu was supposed to have done most of his work) and also no regular feedback was sought when he collected the plates, so it would have felt awkward to offer an opinion on certain things that didn't quite work for me. 

Ambience aside, I wasn't completely convinced that this experience was worth the newly minted 2 stars, but with more focus in the food (the balance between tradition and individuality feels a little tenuous at the moment) and attention to minor details in service, this restaurant will be capable of greater things in the long term.