The workshop of Joël Robuchon could just have easily been called the 'theatre' so engaging is the view into the kitchen from the counter where I ate my set lunch. I was in two minds as to whether to take the keenly priced set (currently just £25 for three courses, recently reduced from £35) or to order a selection of the tasting sized dishes, since I was very keen to try the 'Burger' of foie gras. However a charming French lady sat next to me was on the middle course of the set and it looked so good my mind was made up.
I ordered a glass of decent enough champagne (Bruno Paillard, £10) while I waited for my first course, a pigeon terrine. Usually I could care less about pigeon but some intuition guided me and I'm glad for it. Really excellent and the standout of the meal. Not that there was anything at all to fault with the middle course of poultry with roast potatoes, lettuce and the legendary Robuchon mash potato, (served in it's own cast iron dish). It was just fractionally less delicious.
Ok, let's talk mash. I hadn't realised it came with the dish. Either I missed it on the menu or it's a deliberate, show-stopping surprise. This is god's own mash and for a 2nd generation Irish lad like myself it could easily be a meal on its own. Of course I know how to make it, in the same idle way that I know how to refine opium or turn catholic girls bad, but that doesn't mean one should make it. But if it's just there, unexpectedly at your elbow... well, how could one refuse it's creamy killing caress. It is the Magnum .45 of mash potato.
Desert was a mouse of pistachio and chocolate served with pastry sticks (gold topped) and chocolate ice cream. Lovely to look at and even better to eat. The spoon was also patterned with coloured gold dust (purple in this case.) Pointless perhaps, since gold has no taste, but sort of fun in a "now you've gone to far, oh, well, go on then" kind of a way.
Did I mention this miracle meal cost just over £40 inc. service? Add in the fun of watching the kitchen in full flow and this is the great bargain of London dining right now.
I ordered a glass of decent enough champagne (Bruno Paillard, £10) while I waited for my first course, a pigeon terrine. Usually I could care less about pigeon but some intuition guided me and I'm glad for it. Really excellent and the standout of the meal. Not that there was anything at all to fault with the middle course of poultry with roast potatoes, lettuce and the legendary Robuchon mash potato, (served in it's own cast iron dish). It was just fractionally less delicious.
Ok, let's talk mash. I hadn't realised it came with the dish. Either I missed it on the menu or it's a deliberate, show-stopping surprise. This is god's own mash and for a 2nd generation Irish lad like myself it could easily be a meal on its own. Of course I know how to make it, in the same idle way that I know how to refine opium or turn catholic girls bad, but that doesn't mean one should make it. But if it's just there, unexpectedly at your elbow... well, how could one refuse it's creamy killing caress. It is the Magnum .45 of mash potato.
Desert was a mouse of pistachio and chocolate served with pastry sticks (gold topped) and chocolate ice cream. Lovely to look at and even better to eat. The spoon was also patterned with coloured gold dust (purple in this case.) Pointless perhaps, since gold has no taste, but sort of fun in a "now you've gone to far, oh, well, go on then" kind of a way.
Did I mention this miracle meal cost just over £40 inc. service? Add in the fun of watching the kitchen in full flow and this is the great bargain of London dining right now.
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