Marcus Wareing at The Berkeley

I’m not sure how much of the excitement it’ll take out of the piece I’m writing for the Good Food Guide & Waitrose competition if you read it here first, but I don’t think it would be too much to say that the dinner I had with my godfather at Marcus Wareing was exceptional.  Something approximating the below review will hopefully appear in the 2014 edition of the Good Food Guide but, for now, here’s the unabridged, unedited, warts and all version.

The room is like a giant, red velvet jewellery box, meaning that you feel pleasingly cosseted, expensive and sparkly all evening, although I suppose that depends on the conversational skills of your dining companion.  It is a hushed tones and tablecloths kind of place, but manages to avoid feeling anachronistic or at all redolent of the ‘hotel restaurant’. Much as I love hotel bars; the transience, the glamour, the anonymity and the invariably low lighting all combine to imbue them with a special charge of excitement and potential- hotel restaurants are normally a bit less atmospheric.  This cannot be said of Wareing’s room here, and the knowledgeable, friendly team only add to the experience.

The menu is £80 for 3 courses, with 4 choices at each stage.  The food is written out in a staccato fashion - just the ingredients in a list – which is slightly jarring (‘autistic’, my godfather said) against the elegance of the table.  ‘Foie gras, rhubarb, brioche’ was warm and fried, rather than a cold terrine version. It came with brioche, brown butter (a revelation), rhubarb jelly and ginger yoghurt – the innovative, lactic sharpness of the yoghurt against the richness of the liver made it truly memorable.  This is especially impressive because I HATE yoghurt, and wouldn’t have ordered the dish if I had known there was any possibility of yoghurt coming anywhere near it.  So, my eyes have been opened.  It turns out I will eat yoghurt, but only with foie gras poelée. I think that’s my favourite of all the sentences I’ve ever written. 

‘Herdwick lamb, broccoli, wild garlic’ was the apogee of a spring dish, whereas ‘Venison, January king, almond’ owed more to the winter months we’ve now hopefully left behind. Both had reached the levels of concentration in flavour that mark this kind of food apart.  The attention to detail in the sauces, stocks and garnishes are what makes these plates astounding – nothing is superfluous and everything contributes to make it the most superlative example of lamb, venison, or I daresay fish or fowl, that you’ve ever eaten.  Portion sizes are generous for this type of food.  This is definitely not a complaint, but the robustness of the flavours left us flagging as we contemplated the cheese; an excellent selection including a stand out livarot. 

The amuses-bouches that appeared in between – light gougères, ‘cauliflower cheese’, agnolotti with pumpkin velouté, salt caramel truffles – were invariably clever and well judged. The pasta in particular was heavy with floral, vegetal flavours, and perhaps unexpected in an environment that, on balance, owes more to the French than Italian culinary tradition.

Wines were truly multicultural.  We went by the glass, matched to each course, and explored new finds such as a Macvin du Jura and a Santa Monica Pinot Noir, as well as a more classic Chassagne-Montrachet and Spanish tempranillo.

Marcus Wareing at The Berkeley is producing perfectly executed, thoughtful and interesting food, and must constitute one of the best evenings out in London this year.