Michael Nadra - review (sort of)

There is one group of friends who I spend most of my time with but who get very little air time on this blog. They are called the ‘Chiswick Lot’ (not in a gang way) because when we grew up most of their parents lived in Chiswick. As it happens, one of them still lives with his parents in Chiswick, but almost everyone else has long since spread their wings…to different parts of Chiswick.

In our late teens, Chiswick High Road was the aortic valve of our collective consciousness, and we never really left it behind. Well, you can’t really leave your aorta behind; can you? (pats self on back for the great analogy). One of them recently moved to New York, and wrote to us saying that the things she missed most were, in this order, ‘West Kebab, The George IV, The Katmandu Inn and Tesco’. I know. I know. The Roebuck is a much nicer pub.

I cannot overemphasise how important these people are to me. However, the reason they almost never appear here is that the things we do are still resolutely ‘teenage’. Manfully ignoring the inexorable creep of time, the unrelenting ‘grown-upness’ of work, mortgages and weddings, the undeniable collapsing of the collagen in our faces (seriously, I look like The Scream in the mornings now) and the gentle but insistent tick of biological clocks, we have always managed to bumble along pretending to be 19 years old. They were the ones who were with me during the events previously detailed in ‘A Tale of Woe/French Onion Soup’. Enough said.

Generally, apart from the odd slip up as per the above, I like to keep this blog quite sophisticated. Not only does it befit the underlying vein of Bond but I am also genuinely très sophisticated myself and I want everyone to know it. I appreciate this has gone off message somewhat with recent posts, but the intentions are pure.

So, imagine my surprise when the Chiswick Lot suggested Sunday lunch at Michael Nadra, which is officially nice and can be reviewed. Full disclosure: the one who actually instigated this dramatic shift from ‘see you in the George at 2pm for Jäger’ is a small Dutch woman who has only been hanging around with us for about 8 years, so she’s not fully down with how the group works yet.

Anyway, off we all trotted to the road behind Café Nero where this quite lovely little restaurant gave us one of the best lunches I have had in a long time.

The wine list is extensive and truly excellent. The acid test for a good wine list- apart from drinking them all, for which I did not have time, is to photograph parts of it and send them to my Dad. He is like Rain Man for grapes. Anyway, the reply came back: ‘Corrigan’s or Nadra’. And given that the former is a Mayfair Michelin joint and the latter is just off Chiswick High Road behind Nero, I think that’s a pretty good endorsement.

Without exception, everything everyone had was delicious, and I would have eaten any of it (no jokes please). It’s not often you can say that across a table of 8 people, especially when one of them has ordered a salad. Coincidentally, my flatmate and her boyfriend, The Austrian, went to the other branch in Primrose Hill the following weekend so I have double confirmation that everything is very good. And given the two locations, you have no excuse not to go.

I had soft shell crab tempura with daikon and ginger, which I had expected to be broken up into small bits of legs, all hot and crisply fried. In fact, the crab was tempura-ed whole, which was incredible to look at and hilarious to eat (I suppose I could have used a fork). Next, one of those ‘pork: three ways’ type of events in which each ‘way’ was actually delicious and served a purpose. Quite often those things are a small cube of dry pork belly and then some superfluous bits and bobs, so this was exceptional. Also the best sauce (? demi-glace) I’ve tasted in a while: almost plate-lickingly good.

With two courses for £19.50, or three for £24, this is incredible value and the most enjoyable lunch I have had all year.

http://www.restaurant-michaelnadra.co.uk/

Afterwards, you’ll be pleased to hear that we did go to the pub and the boys switched the contents of all the girls’ handbags around whilst we were away from the table.