The great and the good

My Plate Of View

The Ritz restaurant, 150, Piccadilly, W1

At the start of this year, I went out for a meal at a very high-profile new restaurant that was such jaw-droppingly bad value that I’m still upset about it now. To be clear, that meal isn’t the subject of this month’s column. I’m only mentioning it because at one point my companion, staring in horror at the prices of some of the main courses, muttered ‘you could get an entire lunch at The Ritz for that’ and I thought: now, there’s an idea.

London curiosities

BRANCH OUT

AFFECTIONATELY known as the Bandstand Oak, this rugged, war-torn specimen on sloping ground near the boundary of Hampstead’s West Heath is a blast from the area’s bucolic past. It even pre-dates the Golders Hill estate that preceded today’s much-loved public park (opened in 1899). If an estimated age of 450 years is correct, it was a young tree during the reign of Elizabeth I. Jack Watkins

(1793–1881)—clouds of shell-pink petals suspended above tulips and other bedding plants. Depending on the season, these could be pink begonias and orange thunbergia, darkleaved cannas and yellow calendula or, as in Nesfield’s day, ‘ribbons of scarlet geranium, lobelia, calceolaria, variegated and ivy geraniums’. The centrepiece, now as then, is the impressive Griffin Tazza, a large circular stone bowl supported by four winged lions. Natasha Goodfellow is the author of ‘A London Floral’ and ‘A Cotswold Garden Companion’ (www.finchpublishing.co.uk)

Psst... pass it on S

OHO gelateria Gelupo will be selling a limited number of hot-cross bun ice-cream sandwiches every day, between March 21 and April 10. The special Easter treat is partly inspired by the Sicilian breakfast brioche con gelato

When you step through the doors of 150, Piccadilly you enter a world of unabashed opulence: the chandeliers glitter, the ivories in the Palm Court tinkle and the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over Green Park are symphonically elegant. Since 2004, the marble-columned restaurant has been the domain of executive chef John Williams, whose love of British seasonal bounty is twinned with an absolute mastery of classical French techniques. When I interviewed him for a feature on the hotel a couple of years ago, he was unapologetic in describing his cooking as haute cuisine. ‘If you’re talking about haute couture, you know straight away you’re getting the best of everything,’ he said. ‘That’s exactly what you get here, too.’

He’s right. And at £80 a head, a threecourse lunch (which includes amusebouches, freshly baked sourdough, and petit fours) is incredibly well-priced. Sweet, pearlescent pink Roscoff onions are transformed into an impossibly rich, impossibly light velouté with smoked almonds and Parmesan, then tender tranches of Suffolk lamb are paired with the smoothest smoked aubergine sauce and a miniature terrine of pressed potato. A plate of truffle gnocchi is a masterpiece of colours and textures and the gravity-defying apricot souffle is crowned with jewels of poached fruit and vanillaflecked Chantilly cream; the first mouthful was one of the purest, most perfect joys I’ve experienced in my career as a professional eater. From the moment you’re shown to the table, everything is the best possible version of itself—and however jaded the diner (or columnist), it’s impossible not to be wowed by each course.

Emma Hughes