Mr Oil and Mr Vinegar have been on a rare excursion north of Oxford Street to the Galvin brothers’ Baker Street restaurant, Galvin Bistrot de Luxe.
MrO: That really was a pleasant surprise.
MrV: In general, I agree. North London is usually so ghastly.
MrO: That’s not what I meant. I had been worried that with the Galvins having so many restaurants now, they might have overstretched and that this one might disappoint.
MrV: I would be far more worried about their venue at the top of the Park Lane Hilton. I hate all the Hiltons. Whether it’s the Kensington Hilton, the New York Hilton or the Paris Hilton - they all seem to my personal taste to be common and undiscerning, as if anyone can sleep there if they have the money.
MrO: Nonetheless, their Hilton restaurant is highly regarded. But we were discussing Baker Street.
MrV: Yes, I’d forgotten that Marylebone could be pleasant. It’s such a peculiar area, so filled with foreigners -- one tends to write it off.
MrO: I agree. But Bistrot de Luxe was like an oasis in the desert. There were two principle qualities which stood out. One was that it looked and felt like a genuine Paris bistrot. The other was that it was full of grown-ups.
MrV: I know what you mean. South of Oxford Street is nearer civilisation but it does attract a huge number of adolescent hedge fund managers, property spivs and gibbering media groupies. Not to mention their hideous, shrieking, mayonnaise-gobbling secretaries.
MrO: I should think the average age of Galvin’s clientele was somewhere in the forties and pretty much all of them were pleasantly behaved, well-presented and intelligent looking.
MrV: These days one so rarely sees whole restaurants full of decent folk. Bistrot de Luxe was a bit like being in first class when I was young -- in the days when they wouldn’t let foreigners or the nouveau riche in, no matter how much money they flashed around.
MrO: The Galvins’ food was very good, too.
MrV: Yes, although it has its drawbacks.
MrO: You were full of praise for your rock oysters with hot chorizo. And my crab lasagne was utterly sublime – one of the finest starters I will have this year, I should think.
MrV: Indeed, but the main courses did not fare so well. My bavette of beef with macaroni cheese didn’t really work. The beef would have been interesting – bavette is a tasty cut from the flank which you don’t often see in this country – except for that sweet sticky sauce which completely overwhelmed both it and the macaroni cheese. It was a shame and I left half of mine.
MrO: I wasn’t entirely happy with the roasted veal brain...
MrV: You weren’t the only one. I had hoped that an influx of fresh brains might make your conversation more interesting, but it didn’t.
MrO: ...The texture was perfect, crisp on the outside, but I felt that it might have been better seasoned. All the flavour was in the sauce, instead, which disappointed a little. Mind you, I ate every scrap.
MrV: The wine was more expensive than advertised on the website. That Segla Margaux 2001, delicious though it was, was supposed to be £59.75 and they charged us £62.
MrO: But it was still exceptionally good value. Even at the slightly higher price, it was a mark-up of only about 100 per cent compared to the going retail price, which is extremely restrained and made up for any small disappointments in the food department. And my oeuf a la neige was fabulous.
MrV: The lemon and orange sorbets were very good indeed but the apricot rather left me cold.
MrO: Isn’t that what sorbet is supposed to do? In any case, you don’t even like apricots so what made you think you’d like apricot sorbet?
MrV: Your pedagogery is beginning to bore me. Shut up.
Mr Oil and Mr Vinegar consumed three courses each plus one vodka and tonic, one glass of Chablis, one bottle of claret, two glasses of Poire William eau de vie and two cups of coffee, at a total cost of about £190.
Galvin Bistrot de Luxe
66 Baker Street
London
W1U 7DJ
+44 (0) 20 7935 4007
info@galvinrestaurants.com
http://www.galvinrestaurants.com/section.php/4/1/galvin_bistrot_de_luxe
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Mostly I would agree, though last time was given a vile spiced chick-pea tomato sauce thing as a starter and told it was fabulous. It wasn't. Tempted to feed it to Nigel Lawson at next table, but refrained.
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