The Brackenbury: a rather nice restaurant

My father, a sweet man who was never unpleasant about anyone had a phrase for people or places about which he couldn’t summon up much enthusiasm. "Rather nice."

The Brackenbury is rather nice. The food is nice. The wine is nice (actually very nice). I just can’t get quite as excited as I feel I should about it.

That’s partly due to the burden of expectation I brought to my first visit last night. Back in the '90s, when it was run by Adam and Kate Robinson it was one of the most popular restaurants in London. To hear that it had been taken over by Ossie Gray former manager and wine buyer for the River Cafe (and son of the late great Rose) and the well-qualified Humphrey Fletcher who had also cheffed at the River Caff, Kensington Place and all sorts of other worthy places promised a return to the good old days

The food is certainly hard to fault kicking off with the stylish little ‘plate of savouries’ we ordered while we were trying to decide what else to eat - olives, capers, a very good egg mayonnaise and a couple of mini bruschetti, topped with softly cooked onions and anchovies.

My starter of vodka-cured salmon with roast baby beets and a punchy horseradish dressing was delicious. My host had a generous scoop of very well made rillettes and celeriac remoulade. Classic.

We both opted for fish as a main course, in my case a satisfyingly chunky piece of Skrei cod which broke into beautiful pearly flakes. It came with salsa verde, radicchio and (very slightly underdone) potatoes. My friend had a nicely cooked (drat that word keeps creeping in) fresh lemon sole with braised peas and lettuce

He had cheese - a slice of well-matured Lincolnshire Poacher, home-made chutney and oatcakes. I went for Yorkshire ginger pudding with butterscotch sauce - basically a gingery sticky toffee pudding. Ni... No, I’m not going to say that. Perfectly fine though I think I should have ordered the rather more glamourous iced Paris brest, a giant profiterole with hot chocolate sauce which I spotted sailing past.

We ordered a glass of pinot bianco (impeccable) and a classy bottle of Selvapiana Chianti* which would probably have cost at least a tenner more at the River Café.

So what’s the problem? I guess it’s that the restaurant, so fondly remembered for having bags of personality just doesn't have much. The rooms, painted off-white the way TV experts advise in order to sell your house, feels designed to cause minimum offence. There are no pictures. The lights are too bright.

The service while perfectly competent lacks warmth and thoughtfulness. No bread is offered with my salmon, an extra spoon would have been welcome with the pud. It would have been sensible from the restaurant’s point of view to offer a glass of dessert wine. They just don’t go the extra mile.

Maybe it’s simply that it’s not the old Brackenbury but. be honest, who else cares 20 years on? The locals clearly love it and I don't think Gray has any ambitions other than to create a good neighbourhood restaurant. That he's done. I would undoubtedly go regularly if I lived on the doorstep but I’m not sure it’s worth crossing London for these days.

The Brackenbury is at 129 Brackenbury Road, London W6 0BQ. Tel: 020 8741 4928. We spent about £136 but did choose quite an expensive bottle. I reckon you could get away with £40 a head on food.

* an odd choice with fish you might think but it was a light elegant wine which went perfectly with the cod and salsa verde

De Librije, Zwolle - a ‘mini-menu’ that’s an 8 course feast

With Sergio Herman of Oud Sluis announcing he intends to close his restaurant at the end of 2013, Jonnie Boer’s De Librije could be left as the only 3 Michelin-starred restaurant in Holland. So what makes it so special?

First of all the building - a dramatically converted monastery library (de Librije, pronounced ‘leebraya’, means ‘library') in the attractive Dutch town of Zwolle. The soaring, high ceilinged room creates a theatrical background for Boer’s food - not that it needs much supporting theatre.

Dining with one of his collaborators, academic Peter Klosse, we were treated to a spectacular succession of dishes each paired with a matching wine from a new menu concept called a mini menu where you chose four dishes and they offer four others from ingredients that are currently in season - i.e. eight in all (so not so 'mini'. . .). There’s a vegetarian option throughout which looked really appealing - I might even be inclined to go veggie another time.

The meal started, as 3 Michelin-star menus do, with a show-stopping succession of amuses including one I'd read about where a canapé of beef tartare and oyster cream is assembled on your hand. I wasn’t convinced about that one. Nothing about textures suggested it needed to be served like that - it was just rather discomfiting and messy - although, being perverse, I’m perfectly happy to eat caviar served that way.

The others included a fermented tea of red cabbage (wonderful, I’d have liked that as a full course) and lots of delicious crisp-textured bits and pieces including rice puffs topped with cod tongue and crisp chicken skin (above), some seaweedy-style crisps tucked into a fish skeleton and a halibut fin on toast with orange cream and apricot oil.

The bread was also brilliant - warm brioche rolls with bacon dust - and a bread that was proving at the start of the meal which came back freshly baked to the table half way through the meal accompanied by a slightly sour, tangy whipped cream of goats’ butter and Rembrandt grape juice.

The main dishes were so many and varied I unusually didn’t get to try most of my two dining companions’ choices. My own standouts were a blissfully summery dish of oysters with cucumber and lemon verbena (right) - which I suspect was all the better for being served as an alternative to the usual dish which includes foie gras; a brilliantly clever dish of what looked like Wagyu but was in fact well marbled sirloin seared by Boer at the table on a hot stone, dusted with wild mushroom powder and served with bone marrow, lemon geranium sauce and crisp little potato puffs (below). a surprisingly good match with a 2009 Tim Adams Protegé tempranillo) and a sweet Thai green curry - a Thai-spiced tropical fruit salad I made this week’s match of the week.

I also liked my husband’s dish of white asparagus with hollandaise sauce and coffee, a bizarrely successful combination and a more classic dish of beautifully tender, rare pigeon with star anise, kohlrabi and kohlrabi juice (kohlrabi being much more popular in Holland and Germany than it is in the UK) which was served with a 2010 Isole e Olena Chianti Classico.

I was less convinced by a langoustine ceviche with vanilla kombucha - but then I’m not big on vanilla in savoury dishes and another sweet and savoury combination, a broth of tomato, watermelon and sweet, spicy croutons (which failed to hit it off for me with its accompanying pinot noir.) And, cheese fiend though I am, I don’t think I’d have liked the cheese course of epoisses and seared kidney that Klosse chose - an over-rich end to a long meal. There were times I felt Boer, in common with other chefs at this level, was trying that bit too hard to be innovative.

He and his wife Thérèse, though, are rightly seen as leading lights of the Netherlands fine dining scene: the restaurant is no. 57 in the World’s 50 Best top 100 list. They also have a hotel and a 2 star restaurant, Librije’s Zusje) in Zwolle, housed in a former women’s prison, and have written a number of books, published mainly in Dutch. If you’re looking to sample the best of what Holland has to offer in the way of fine dining it’s definitely worth the detour, as Michelin would put it.

But the restaurant was less than half full the midweek lunchtime we were there which suggests that others may share my feeling that this kind of meal is just a bit over the top in terms of both content and quantity for anything other than a special occasion. It could be that prospective punters think it’s impossible to get in or maybe they were down the road at the couple’s 2 star where where you can eat many of the dishes that made De Librije famous for a fair bit less and a two course lunch for just 45€. In these hard times It could be a problem for them.

Restaurant De Librije is at Broerenkerkplein 13-15, 8011 TW Zwolle
+31 (0)38 853 0001 The ‘mini-menu’ we had is 182.50€ (£155/$244)

I ate at De Librije as a guest of the restaurant

You can see an interview with Jonnie and Thérèse of De Librije in this video made by Fine Dining Lovers

Does The Kitchin deserve a second Michelin star?

You can’t help feeling that it’s Tom Kitchin’s misfortune to be in Edinburgh. Not because his isn’t proud of his Scottish roots - he obviously is - but because if he were in France I’m sure he’d have two stars rather than one.

Certainly there are plenty of two star dishes on his ‘Land and Sea Surprise’ tasting menu including a shellfish broth of wonderful clarity and umami-rich depth of flavour, a terrine of octopus monkfish liver that cleverly mimicks foie gras and a precisely cooked ‘nose to tail’ dish of lamb including liver, kidney and testicles which has to be the best offal dish I’ve eaten. Was that what Michelin thought was inappropriate for a two star establishment? If not it has no balls.

Other dishes might not have reached such technical heights but were beautifully presented. A delicious ‘amuse’ of jellied chicken consommé, with discs of pressed chicken breast, crunchy apple and crisp bacon that would make a great full-size starter. An imaginative dish of razor clams (known locally as spoots) served with diced vegetables, a judicious touch of chorizo and lemon confit.

Tom’s signature dish of boned and rolled pig’s head and langoustine with a crispy ear salad (maybe the pork had slightly too powerful a flavour for the delicate langoustines if one were inclined to quibble). A dish of cod cheek with fresh Wye asparagus and a blood orange sauce that was bang in season. Dark sticky braised beef with ‘bone marrow’ potatoes (i.e. the ‘bone’ was made out of potato. Clever stuff.)

And two gorgeous desserts - a sharp yet creamy lemon meringue tart with frozen yoghurt and lemon confit and - my choice which I was reluctant to share - a light, airy rhubarb cheesecake with a rhubarb compote and rhubarb sorbet you may spot I’ve made my match of the week this week (with a Cabernet Franc ice wine)

Service too is impeccable even down to a fellow in the corner whose only job seemed to be sorting and polishing the appropriate cutlery for each order. And serving the pre-dessert and cheese. I wonder what his job title was. The cutler? The sorbeteer? The cheese somm?

The wine list too is appropriately wide ranging and expensive though we were treated to the wine pairings - and a couple of beer pairings, including the Kelpie seaweed ale with the Shellfish Rockpool you’ll see in this Vine. It included some adventurous choices such as a sweet Coteaux du Layon with the monkfish liver terrine, a Western Australian riesling with the razor clams and a robust Etna Rosso with the pig’s head and langoustine dish though I felt some of the wines used (a heavily oaked New Zealand chardonnay and commercial New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc didn’t match the quality of the food). I’d order a bottle another time.

What else might Michelin object to? There’s an unglamourous view over a large depot on one side of the restaurant and the room is rather dark - probably better in the evening than the day. There’s the occasional misfiring dish - some overcooked poached monkfish and some really poor bread rolls that tasted as if they’d been reheated - a strange aberration in a restaurant of this quality.

But overall this is lovely, graceful food with a real sense of place made from top class ingredients and presented without excessive artifice by way of foams, smears and blobs. Not cheap but definitely worth the detour. Come on, Michelin - give it the credit it deserves.

The Kitchin is at 78 Commercial Quay, Leith, Edinburgh EH6 6LX - about 15 minutes by bus from the city centre. Tel: 0131 555 1755. The tasting menu we had costs £75 (with matching wines a further £55) - but that would probably still work out cheaper than eating à la carte. There’s also a good value three course set lunch at £26.50 or £36.50 with cheese. The restaurant is closed on Sunday and Monday.

Disclaimer: Tom Kitchin treated us to a number of free dishes and the wine pairings

Brasserie Zédel: Paris comes to Piccadilly

If you’re the kind of sad, unreconstructed Francophile (like me) who thinks French food has gone to the dogs head not for Eurostar but the newly opened Brasserie Zédel in London’s West End. Housed in the late and not-much-lamented Atlantic Bar and Grill near Piccadilly Circus, it occupies a huge subterranean space which has been decked out at eye-watering expense in full fin de siècle style.

The guys who have deep enough pockets and the sheer chutzpah to pull off this feat are Chris Corbin and Jeremy King, founders of the Caprice and the Ivy and owners of the equally glam and celebrity-frequented Wolseley and Delaunay.

So reasonable are the prices - oeufs dur mayonnaise for £2.75! - that we assumed the portions must be minuscule and ordered way too much in the way of hors d’oeuvres - an heirloom tomato salad with shallots (£2.95), superbly garlicky paté with chopped jelly and cornichons (£5.75) and some nicely tangy céleri remoulade (£2.95) almost certainly made in house rather than bought-in as it would have been in Paris. Freshly cut baguette came from what looked like a boulangerie in the corner - a slightly kitsch but effective touch.

My carnivorous colleague and I decided to tackle the choucroute Zédel ‘pour deux’ (at £14.95 per person) which could easily have served six and which was presented with much ceremony by one of the servers - the choucroutier? - who dismembered the ham hock for us and reassembled it tastefully on top of our platter. He assured us we had enough boiled potatoes but given the amount of meat and cabbage (which was perfectly seasoned with a nice nip of cloves) I’d order a few extra as a side. (Since when did you see plain pommes vapeur on a menu, let alone at £2.50?)

Our 250ml pichet of fruity Alsace riesling (2010 vintage but unnamed) was the perfect accompaniment and not unreasonable at £12.10 though the wine list is almost certainly where they make their money.

Despite being unable to finish our choucroute we plunged into the puds - almost literally so in the case of a ‘bol de mousse au chocolat’ (£5.25) which came in what looked like a small mixing bowl. 'People like to share' we were told. The eclair ‘Paris-Brest’ - a choux puff filled with praline flavoured cream was perhaps the only dish that didn’t hit the mark - quite tasty but overchilled and a shade heavy. But who's complaining at £2.75?

The only other criticism (and I’m struggling) is that they didn't spell out that our Lillet aperitif was rouge rather than blanc (we should have asked but they still replaced it) and that they brought the starters and wine minutes after, leaving us little time to sip them. But they knocked one off the bill to compensate.

There’s a cheap prix fixe lunch for £8.75 for 2 courses and £11.75 for three and a plat du jour for £12.75 which I didn’t go for because I’m not mad about blanquette de veau which was on offer that day. Other specials like poitrine de porc farcie and lapin à la moutarde look more tempting.

If you’re not in the mood for food or it's too early to face choucroute there’s a little cafe upstairs where you can drink coffee and read the papers. (There's also a separate bar.)

Brasserie Zédel, in short, is a joy. Go before they put up the prices as they almost certainly will. (Apparently not, I'm told by Jeremy King on Twitter. But go anyway.)

(Our bill for 2 was £88.99 including an aperitif, 2 250ml pichets of wine (the other was a Picpoul) and 2 coffees. You could eat for a lot less than that.)

Brasserie Zédel is at 20 Sherwood Street. 020 7734 4888. Apparently they keep several tables for walk-ins.