Thursday 26 April 2012

Hereford Road: Bayswater, Saturday 4th February, 2012

Fergus Henderson is a man whom I have lauded many times in my short tenure as a critic. His simplistic approach to British food and the translation of tradition into modern mainstream is peerless. It's a wonder more restaurants aren't doing things in the same way: get good quality local produce, dress it up in the simplest way possible and sell it at fair prices.

Maybe it isn't a wonder, because it relies on two things: faith in your customer base and absolute conviction in your own ability to execute dishes where there is no margin for error. Whilst there are few finer things in life than excellent British cooking, there are few worse than lousy food that makes one ashamed of one's culinary heritage. And as for the first point: regrettably there's no-one like the English when it comes to fussy eating.

Hereford Road is one of those places one would expect to see popping up all over the place given the trend in recent years to celebrate what's on our doorstep. Unsurprisingly, the man behind it is Tom Pemberton, once head chef of St John Bread & Wine. That was enough of an endorsement for me, so I booked a group meal there as a last-night hurrah to conclude the visit of one of my best friends, who had spent a week with us whilst visiting from overseas.

Six of us took to the Bayswater streets after watching a nailbiting start to the 2012 Six Nations and the winter snowfall having just about hit. We slipped and struggled through the exquisite Notting Hill residential streets with the snow coming down harder and practically fell inside the restaurant, so keen were we to be somewhere warm and comforting.

The place was once a Victorian butchers shop - not that surprising considering Pemberton's early career - and it has a slightly retro-fitted charm to it. The colours and interior design are rather seventies-themed in their panels of simple colour and the furniture feels like it was ordered a season or so late. I quite liked it in a way, even though it felt like the meal was an exhibition as much as dinner with friends.

The menu reads like something that you'd see at St John Bread & Wine which I suppose it should. The descriptions are simple and unassuming, allowing the main ingredients to stand out. The best thing about reading a menu like this is it never looks overfull. With nine main courses and eight starters on the menu, the page of A4 in front of us was a long list of dishes that didn't daunt in any way. It looks and feels right when food is put so matter-of-factly on a menu.

Starters were something of a mixed bag, at the better side of which was kale & potato soup (left). Thick, almost broth-like soup was perfectly formed, with the kale a delightful note of semi-sourness. The texture was perfect and for £5.20 it was the cheapest dish on the menu. Here's to cheap starters I say. This was delicious soup.

The wife went for potted crab with toast (right). This was primarily quite good in terms of the freshness and taste of the crab meat, but disappointingly let down by bits of shell in the mix. My brother went for braised cuttlefish served with red onion and aioli. A strange choice in that he doesn't like much seafood at all. There was sadly no revelation or epiphany when it came to the taste of the dish. I have to say it was a rather different take on a seafood salad to start but it was too dependent on the garlic mayonnaise to be a winner.

The two remaining starters featured no meat; both were centred around cheese. One was a rather fruitier mix of pear, chicory and Cashel Blue. It was not a cheese I'd heard of before, but investigation revealed it to be a rather unique and relatively recently developed Irish cheese. It wasn't too strong, and the combination of pear and chicory had hints of expertise within, just not quite enough to win me over. This was a big contrast to the goats curd, sorrel and beetroot we also sampled. The notes of bold beetroot were tempered exceptionally by the mild green leaves of sorrel and the smooth curds. It was a wonderfully executed dish, one that quite proudly emphasised all the good things about modern British food.

Main courses promised a hell of a lot. Everything we ordered sounded delicious and with the form of some of the starters, I expected us all to be happy with our lot. Let's start with those who weren't. Two at the table ordered braised veal breast with fennel & green sauce. An interesting description which I think was the main factor in ordering the dish.

In the event, the combination was a strange but fleetingly impressive one (left). I'd never eaten veal breast and I can understand why it is not the most popular cut of the meat. It's quite chunky, but at times stringy and tough to get through. It might be nice if sliced but as a piece of meat it is too much. The fennel was stewed and the whole lot was served with a thin broth which I assume it had been cooked in. There were hints of a fine combination with the parsley-riddled green sauce but overall it didn't work.

I went for a faggot of Middelwhite pork with mashed potato and its humble glory was as rewarding as my first course had been. A delicious and tender-moist meatball with some divinely creamy mash was a wonderful and basic combination made to be brilliant by the quality of ingredients (right). Similarly, the Middlewhite shoulder with red cabbage was another dish which showed off the quality of the meat with one well-executed accompaniment.

The wife's pheasant with lentils and wild mushrooms was rich and gamy but suffered from the lentils overwhelming the bird slightly (left). They along with the sauce went unfinished, but the meat was devoured with relish. The final main course was a saddle of lamb with anchovy & celeriac. The combination sounded fantastic and Mike, who had braved no meat with his starter, went for this one in a shot. It was a delicious piece of meat but the anchovy was somehow lost in the mix with the celeriac supporting well. It was decent but we expected more.

Desserts were all priced at £5.50 which seemed very reasonable. Three went for a melting chocolate pudding with vanilla ice cream which was as stickily delicious as we expected it to be (right). Perhaps not as fine as a chocolate fondant, this was a more honest, thickly spongy pudding deserving of a place on any English menu. The sticky date pudding (AKA sticky toffee pudding anywhere else) was a delicious reminder of how wonderful English desserts can be too: a syrupy, sweet and not-too-thick sponge ticked all the boxes.

My effort was a classic apple crumble with vanilla ice cream (left). It was on the menu as being served with cinnamon ice cream and when I asked to change it, the waitress said it might not be possible since they weren't serving vanilla. We wondered how that was possible since vanilla was coming with the chocolate, but happily the kitchen weren't as confused as our server. It was pretty nice: not too sweet and a properly soft texture. There wasn't a lot else to say since it was not fantastic and they did their best to ruin it with a flaking of nuts on top of the crumble.

Lastly, there was a gorgeous surprise in store with a rice pudding, served with cranberry jam. This was a new one on me, partly because I don't especially enjoy rice pudding and I'd never heard of cranberry used as a jam to sweeten a dessert. It worked fantastically well in that the pudding itself was slightly sweetened and creamy, with the jam cutting through it with a pleasant note of acidity. I was shocked at how good it tasted.

As we left the restaurant, we found we'd eaten through a full-blown snowstorm from the looks of things. There was a good inch of snow all over the streets, giving the meal we'd just eaten a romantic wintry glow. It is with a great fondness that I look back on the meal at Hereford Road because it reminded me that there is a great deal of local quality to be found in London's restaurants.

Not every dish was great, or even particularly good in some cases, but the philosophy behind the restaurant is so staggeringly simple I don't know why more aren't subscribing. There is just so much to like about a place like this, from the ingredients down to the reasonable pricing (no main course cost more than £15). It might take a go or two to find the dishes you're going to love, but Hereford Road is worth a visit.

Hereford Road

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