fischer's, marylebone - review

When friends gather of an evening to address grumbling stomachs, it’s rare for one to exclaim a desire to ’go for an Austrian’. A cuisine less prevalent across London’s dining landscape, it’s the sort that whilst remaining largely unchartered, tends to evoke responses of ‘Ooh - I do love a good schnitzel.’

So, most of us have an idea of what a schnitzel is - boneless tenderised and breaded meat - and the the part of Europe the term is associated with (mittel-Europe, that is Germany, Austria and the surroundings). But I suspect that’s where a lot of our knowledge of this cuisine ends. Should you have the urge to delve deeper into Viennese café culture and what a menu in one would offer, Fischer’s in Marylebone is a good place to start.

If you’ve wandered into a Jeremy King and Chris Corbin venture before (The Wolseley, The Delaunay, Brasserie Zedel), you’ll instantly recognise the space as one of theirs; they are masters at baroque beauty, early twentieth-century glamour, bustling European-style all-day brasseries, panelled walls and big clocks. The menu partially reflects those in The Delaunay and The Wolseley - the presence of schnitzel, wursts, wieners, ice cream coupes and sachertorte are ubiquitous.

At Fischer’s though, there’s a greater delve into a specific Viennese offering. I had only recently learnt about spätzle - and more importantly, how to correctly pronounce it (shpetz-leh) - at an evening cooking with part-Austrian TV cook Rachel Khoo. You'll find them here, and they’re good. Pasta dough pushed through small holes to make little dumplings, finished in butter and with a generous amount of garlic that I more than agree with (£3 - side).

Chopped liver with sweet rounds of pickles is also very much of-that-region; a well-textured paté served with crisp bread, it’s a solid way to begin (£6.50). Beetroot and goat’s curd salad was as good as those components have capacity to be, assuming fresh and seasonal ingredients - the case here (£8.25).

Not ordering a schnitzel on my maiden visit to an Austrian café would be, I suspect, little short of sacrilege. Couple this with most of social media responding with ‘the schnitzel!’ to my pre-lunch research query of ‘what’s good at Fischer’s?’, and I’m going to order a schnitzel. 

And so it was the Holstein or nothing, a huge veal cutlet pounded tender, breaded, and plunged into hot oil, topped with a fried egg, a criss-cross of anchovies and a scattering of tight capers (£21.70). Very pleasant it was, if not hefty, even for me. With hindsight, it seems I was served the large option, and yet I don’t recall being asked which size I wanted; there is also a ‘small’ available for £12.75.

A few other service teething problems were noted. Our starters came before our glasses of champagne, then offered on the house by way of an apology. Another waitress introduced our dessert wines with “I don’t know how to pronounce these - I shouldn’t be working in an Austrian restaurant”, albeit jokingly. And there were additional hints the staff weren’t entirely au fait with the menu. I say teething problems, they’ve been open since spring.

The menu is full of umlauts that are fun to pronounce with your best Schwarzenegger drawl, my favourites being: käsekrainer (pork, garlic and emmental sausage), zwiebelrostbraten (grilled rib eye), marillenknödel (apricot dumpling with apricot compote and vanilla ice cream), and überstürzter (long espresso and belgian chocolate poured over whipped cream). 

Try saying those after a couple of glasses of Pommery, or, if you’re the waitress. There’s also an extensive choice of cured fish, salads, brötchen (rolls), sandwiches and biscuits.

For a sweet finish, there was an apple and walnut strudel which I didn’t try but my companion said was pleasant enough (£6.95). The Wien - a towering assembly of coffee and vanilla ice cream with whipped cream and espresso anglaise sitting atop chewy bits of meringue like those found in Lucky Charms - was good, if not confrontational in its challenge to clear it. ‘Finish me, I dare you’ it silently flounced upon delivery - another big portion (£5.95).

Along with the dessert wines - thankfully chosen by someone who knows a lot more about the subject than I (not hard), and who passed wine exams without reading any of the collateral - came a brief lesson on the botrytis fungus and wine fortification. ‘If you’re not learning, you’re not living’, as my old boss used to say. I’m not sure they’re interdependent, but I always liked his ability to inspire. 

Whilst one looked the exact colour of a urine sample from a driver caught over the limit, they were both exquisite. Their names: Lieser ‘Niederberg Helden’ Riesling (£10.75) and Trockenbeerenauslese Sämling (£9.50). Probably a point-to-the-menu job. 

I’d go to Fischer’s again if I was in the area. I like that it’s an all-day establishment and you’re not pressured to dine on a full three courses; a catch-up over coffee and konditorei is perfectly acceptable and exactly befits the style of the venue. In terms of the food, it’s not ground-breaking but it’s solid; essentially middle-European classics executed well. 

With similar formats and some of the signature items also available at The Wolseley and The Delaunay, I’d say that if they’re more geographically accessible (the case for me), there’s probably little need to venture to Marylebone specifically for Fischer’s. But maybe for the spätzle.

Liked lots: the prettiness King and Corbin are so good at; that it's an all-day establishment; attention to design details down to brass bathroom taps and the restaurant logo printed on the disposable paper towels
Liked less: there's a £1.75 cover charge pp between 12-3 and 7-11 which unnecessarily grates - just absorb it in the menu prices; the staff need to practice the pronunciation of those magnificently long menu items and wines
Good for: pretending you're in Vienna; a date, I reckon

My rating: 3.5/5

Find the menu on Zomato.

Afiyet olsun.

chiltern firehouse, marylebone - review

I babysat my six-year-old cousin the other day and in doing so, treated myself - I mean her - to a rerun of the Disney modern-classic, Ratatouille. There’s a great scene where - after being asked if he knew what he’d like to eat that evening - the imperious and acerbic food critic, Anton Ego, hisses a response that leaves the waiter cowering behind his silver tray:

“Yes, I think I do. After reading a lot of overheated puffery about your new cook, you know what I'm craving? A little perspective. That's it. I'd like some fresh, clear, well seasoned perspective. Can you suggest a good wine to go with that?”

(You haven’t watched Ratatouille? Oh, you must.)

A cynical response, but one I couldn't shift from my mind throughout the meal at Chiltern Firehouse.

Anyone who is anyone (and a lot of people who are no one) have been paraded and snapped at Chiltern since its opening in the new André Balazs hotel in February. It’s won Tatler’s Restaurant of the Year (after being open for just three months; how that even makes sense I'm yet to figure out), has been fawned over by almost everyone who has visited (national critics included), and is so hot on the celebrity front that the Daily Mail Online Showbiz column could dedicate a whole section to it.

I - as well as everyone else, I’m sure - went in with high expectations. Some were met, others were very far off.

One thing that is indisputable is the splendour of the place - it is achingly beautiful. “Industrial Parisian chic, I’d call this”, my interior designer companion cooed. “Who did this, it’s excellent - I want to work with them”. Studio KO did, and a full-hearted bravo to them - it’s exquisite.

Also indisputable, is the calibre of clientèle. “There are a lot of hot guys in here - he’s been sitting on his own for ages, I wonder if he’s single”. A couple of tango-tastic Made in Chelsea stars aside, the crowd was cool and trendy and more than easy on the eye.

The other favourable point of note are the staff. They offered to take snaps of us hanging off the wine corridor ladders so we could post them on social media and gloat about being at the hottest place in town. “I won’t take one, I’ll take ten!” enthused the Maitr’d, in her baby pink jump suit.

The cute waiters kept giving us twinkling winks as we scuttled through round the back and descended (and descended) to the toilets (close to the centre of the earth, I think), which had a secret door past the cubicles that lead out through a slick basement / outdoor area where people were flirting, smoking and enjoying negronis in the heat of the evening.

Let there be no mistaking, we enjoyed the physicality of the place immensely - the aesthetics (of everything and everyone), the feel, the background jazz playing, the atmosphere. We stayed until late, well after our meal. It’s an outstanding spot for classy and on-trend socialising - the vibe is spot on. 

But the overriding feel is that people are going for the association, not for the food. Most of the girls don’t look like they’ve had more than half a ham sandwich since puberty, and I saw couples where only the man was eating - one of those places. Many came in just to have a drink - with no intention to eat - to say they've at least been, I suspect.

I could say the food was wasted on this crowd, but I wouldn't mean it.

And so, to the food. It started off on a solid foot, from the page of while-you-wait type bites. Cool and crunchy inverted florets of cauliflower sitting in a spiced truffle paste were good (£5). Crab-stuffed donuts with a dusting of crab coral were soft and, you know - also good (£6).

Then to the saving-grace of the night, the starters, which were actually very good. My partner’s steak tartare induced a bout of food envy. The chopped beef moulded into a neat mound, all glistening and glorious once mixed with egg yolk (patiently sitting atop, waiting to breach), diced pickles, shallots, radishes, and a chipotle ‘Firehouse’ sauce (£12).

But then we glanced over at my barley and oat risotto with nettles and crisped slithers of artichoke that looked like someone had scooped up the essence of spring from a meadow with a butterfly net and arranged it on my plate. Incredibly intense green liquid pooling in the gaps my fork left, dark lilac borage flowers, and a splendid consistency (£11).

Chargrilled Iberico pork with roasted garlic and collard greens had become that fateful state of requiring too much effort to chew. It needed more char, perhaps a crust - something to help the molars do their job. The other bits on the plate were alright (£29). My companion quite enjoyed it, but wasn't floored, expecting more what with Mendes in the kitchen.

She really didn't care for the spring lamb with minted broad beans, radishes and goat’s curd (gave it 4/10 - harsh). The texture of it was more appealing to me compared to the pork, but the thick layer of fat was neither crispy nor engaging on the tongue, so it was left. The thin sauce slopped about, making the dish look untidy on delivery. The best thing on that plate was the rest of it (£30).

The maple-bourbon sweet potato mash was a divisive presence. I found it tooth-aching and akin to puréed carrot baby food. She - who does not normally have a sweet tooth - loved it, spooning up the whole lot. I left her to it after a couple of goes (£5). Purple sprouting broccoli was fine (£5).

I longed for fireworks at dessert. We got sparklers, and mine was damp. 

Frozen apple panna cotta with shiso leaf granité and diced meringue looked fun, like the hump of a snail poking out of moss. Flavour combinations were interesting, with little limpid cubes of intense apple flavour adding some tang (£9).

The clementine custard inside my citrus tarte with sesame sponge was the best thing on the plate, both sweet and tart. But there was the same torched meringe as on the other dessert, making them look similar. And the piped peaks had no form - they were too soft. There was also something else white and wobbly with the texture of tofu (and about the same amount of flavour), which is divisive in itself. I didn’t clear it (£9).

A combination of no bread and not finishing everything I ordered meant that after another couple of (might I say, excellent) cocktails, I had little choice but to slip through the golden arches for some nuggets on the way to the tube, despite (recoiling from) the £85 bill; it was the above, plus an aperitivo and glass of wine each. 

On the note of cost, it’s a lot. My middle-range meals in London, with wine, usually come in at around £60 (many of those Michelin) - this bill made me flinch. It feels overpriced. What is it that I’m paying for exactly? Oh yes, the crowd.

Nuno was there, he came over and asked how it was - our responses noticeably gushed about the gorgeousness of the room and how busy it was, rather than the food. He's very sweet, with his floppy side-fringe. He was swamped by guests as he moved through the room, shaking his hand and congratulating him on the place. The waiter got some menus signed by him for me - I forgot to take them.

A gorgeous hang-out with gorgeous people and a stirling bar that just happens to do good food, Chiltern is. A very good restaurant in its own right, it is not; it's fallen victim to its own "puffery". There are just too many other places that consistently serve great food in wonderful environments at more accessible price points, for me to eat here again.

But I will definitely return for a drink, to bask in the splendour of the place and enjoy another Bella Sophia aperitivo, if nothing else.

Liked lots: the building and its interiors, the starters, staff, great aperitivos at reasonable prices, cracking cocktails
Liked less: fanfare, press, permanent paparazzi based at the entrance with the flash of their lights visible from inside, price point
Good for: sheep following, leaving peckish and a bit disappointed

My rating: 3/5

Afiyet olsun.

 

l'autre pied, marylebone - review

I recently treated my parents to dinner at The Ritz for an anniversary gift, and as the day approached my mother divulged, ‘we’re going to have to get your dad a new suit’. I had almost forgotten the strict code of attire at The Ritz - men must wear a jacket with tie and jeans are strictly prohibited. The opulence of the setting complete with a fully tuxedo’d front of house is certainly fitting for such robe requests, and everyone doing their bit when it comes to making an effort lends itself to an even more heightened dining experience of exclusivity and luxury. 

Whilst I’m sure dining at The Ritz is a very unique venture, it’s not really for me. I want to consume very good food without having to adhere to a dress dictatorship in order to do so. I recall my dining partner almost being refused entry to Hakkasan once due to his sport shoes, albeit very smart and pristine white ones with the addition of a blazer to boot - scandalous! My ideal location for a birthday treat (of which this meal was), would be an informal and relaxed restaurant with no pretenses serving Michelin quality food. And L’autre Pied in Marylebone achieves that in spades.

The kitchen is commandeered by head chef Andy McFadden and his seven course tasting menu was the agenda for the evening. On arrival we were seated by a very charming maitr’d who recommended a rather spectacular glass of Italian red, the name of which I failed to note. An amuse bouche began proceedings consisting of silk thin poppy seed pastry topped with cool, smooth and meaty chicken liver parfait and sprinkled with chopped olives.

Culinary artistry and refined presentation stole the limelight at each course. The first involved compressed cucumber with frozen gazpacho, akin to incredibly flavoursome crushed ice alongside an intense flavour of cucumber and topped with black onion seeds. The dish sang the familiar notes of a typically Turkish sandwich comprising of sesame seed topped bread, cucumber, and salt from halloumi (in this case from the well seasoned gazpacho) - light and refreshing and quite the picture.

A salad of radishes with black quinoa, crème fraîche, fennel and dill followed. I was more than happy to let the mispronunciation from the waitress of quinoa as ‘kwin-owa’ (actually pronounced ‘keen-wah’) slide, as the plate itself was striking enough in its appearance to distract me, with the flavours and textures to match. Delicate, crisp and clean and with hard raw beads of the grain to provide interest between the teeth.

The third course continued with the theme of vegetables as the star attraction and with one of my favourites taking centre stage - beetroot. A generous wedge of it was served baked alongside a balsamic gel, a gratifyingly wobbly horseradish panna cotta, small and perfectly piped meringues dyed pink from beetroot juice with a sublimely satisfying texture when penetrated with the fork, and crunchy beetroot and balsamic crisps intense with the flavour from both; I particularly enjoyed the inclusion of techniques usually reserved for desserts in this dish. Course devoured and plate left like a scene from a Tarantino set, typical of the ruby red vegetable presence.

Fish was next to decorate our table in the form of poached pollock with gem lettuce, broad beans, peas and mint. This was my least favourite dish and I would go so far as saying it was disappointing. The fish was underseasoned and added little, if anything, to the plate. It was served alongside a foam of some sort which was also entirely lacking in any discernable flavour. The vegetables were the redeemers and topped with pea shoots - an arresting vibrant green, perfectly al dente and exceedingly fresh.

Red meat soon followed - slow cooked shoulder of roe deer with the flesh sporting slightly caramelised and toughened edges deep with flavour. Tea smoked prunes and baby carrots provided sweetness and the plate was dressed with a rich jus, carrot oil and a peanut crumble, although I was only able to detect little presence of the latter.  Soft and flaking meat characteristic of an eight hour low heat treatment.

Onto the second stomach for desserts spanning two courses. To begin, an apple custard with honeycomb, sharp palate cleansing raspberry sorbet, speckled with pieces of rose water meringue (very similar in both flavour and texture to the nuggets of sin found in the tooth-achingly sweet Lucky Charms cereal), and topped with a sprinkling of toasted pistachio, the flavour of which I adore about as much as toasted sesame - almost certainly due to my part-Turkish heritage. A quite wonderful and well thought out dessert.

French Gariguette strawberries served at room temperature (a cold fridge sucks out the flavour from a strawberry) along with an exceedingly coconutty ice cream, yoghurt and passion fruit drew the very pleasing proceedings to a close.

Service throughout was warm and attentive without being overbearing. Interiors are muted and casual, allowing the expertise and precise presentation demonstrated through the food to take centre stage. The lack of a trous normand before dessert or petit fours after was a little unexpected when compared to other Michelin tasting menus I've sampled, particularly the sister restaurant Pied a Terre, where both were received. But L’autre Pied, whilst still maintaining highly commendable standards, is the slightly more accessible of the two with good value set menus for the quality received, and a wine list with prices that don’t cause a pained wince on perusal. 

On the note of value, it’s certainly worth mentioning that this particular meal was part of a deal sold on Groupon - 50% off a seven course tasting menu for two. Or two for the price of one, in other words. I thought it highly uncharacteristic of a Michelin venue to lend itself to Groupon, whilst also offering such significant discounts within the deal. But as far as I could tell, the menu was identical to full paying customers and we received the same service and experience as the diners around us. I in fact commend L’autre Pied for shunning the judgements of others and actively making their food accessible to more people - bravo.

With the full priced seven course tasting menu coming in at a very reasonable £62 per person, a visit is certainly more than worthwhile for a special occasion or a well deserved treat.

Liked lots: relaxed and informal fine dining atmosphere, asking for any dietary requirements prior to taking our order; pillowy warm bread basket straight from the oven, service, reasonably priced wine, the Groupon deal, wonderful presentation throughout, location
Liked less: fish dish, lack of petit fours
Good for: introduction to fine dining, romantic meal, special occasions

My rating: 4/5

Afiyet olsun.

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