6th February 2007
Declaration of intent...
This catchily named-restaurant will be reviewed in two parts; the prologue being the restaurant and the epilogue, the bar.
Prologue: Joel Robuchon was voted the "Chef of the [last] Century" by the other great chefs of the world. "This is going to have to be amazing", I thought.
London is M. Robuchon's newest Atelier (workshop; he IS French). To add to his collection of New York, Vegas, Paris and Tokyo. By all accounts - they are all the same thing. Like a monumentally expensive McDonald's you know what you are going to get when you walk in: from your Rolls Royce parked in the street.
It should be noted that his choice of location, really IS a declaration of intent. The next door restaurant is The Ivy. The luvvies' favourite; the choice of the nouveau riche and ill-informed. Its where Tess Daly and Vernon Kay eat. With Chris Moyles.
L'Atelier will take on the role of The Ivy easily; it may be dark but it is hugely small and cozy; you would not be able to hide here.
To the decor. This place is like a japanese health spa meets an 1980s nightclub. Its dark, chic, shiny, black marble, dark wenge wood, red leather on the seats, red glassware at the table settings and hanging baskets of fresh chilis. This is not really to my taste but feels inviting, strangely.
However once sat at the bar - where you eat cheek by jowl with the next party of people talking self-consciously quietly - the flashiness and the shininess makes a bit more sense. As your eyes adjust to the lighting you see that you are in full view of the kitchen. This is again small but over-full with silently moving shadows all dressed in black, mutely slicing, dicing and, interestingly, repeatedly needling food with toothpicks until the presentation was just so.
Most of the cooking (apart from some preparation and pastry making - which is banished to the basement) is straight on the hotplate (teppanyaki) - again in eerie silence.
It is this cooking method that intrigues me along with the whole concept of the place. The intimacy of a japanese restaurant has been [con?]fused with the popularity of french buttery cooking. Sounds like a great concept. But the seating is too intimate, the atmosphere too quiet (Friday lunch should be one of the busiest times of the week!), to let you speak with confidence that others aren't listening. This is bad for a business lunch anywhere but the Brits hate to hear themselves talk so we end with a competion to speak almost inaudibly; desperate not to let our neighbours hear a thing.
If you come with a party greater than 2 the above gripe is irrelevant as the 3 or more of you will be sat in a line along a bar, unable to communicate in any other method but chinese whispers.
You choose much like Ramsay's Maze (see another one of my reviews - current favourite restaurant!) with either main course sizes or tasting menu size (a third of the food at half the price but you get to sample a load of the menu).
At 'The Workshop' however, this leads to smaller portions than any more than one person can enjoy and surely the point is for everyone to 'try'. No? You think its vulgar to share food? Off the same plate? Ok then, well you're entitled to your opinion...
The food. In short a bit of a let down. The problem being that the is the Chef of the Century here - surely it should 'blow your mind'. The Pied De Cochon was the stand out favourite for me, that's French, it was really great. As was the quail, even the main course size of this was tiny. The mash here is simply barely textured butter, but you convince yourself its mash and that it is the best mash you have ever had; mildly flavoured with truffle. But for instance the Lentil Veloute was just good - not amazing.
Thats the problem here. The place is too hyped and expensive for there to be a moment of disappointment.
Lets hope Tess and Vernon don't stop posing for long enough to taste anything properly.
Above the restaurant there is the second restaurant - La Cuisine - the same but not as well designed by all accounts and above that, high above Soho, is the bar...
Epilogue: We needed somewhere to discuss the lunch. We were both a tiny bit let down and needed to talk through it. We had heard about the bar. We were not disappointed.
This was perfect. The blackout curtains stopped the obtrusive daylight, the leather bucket seats allowed for a perfect chat, the service slightly too slow but inobtrusive the cocktails lovingly prepared, the fire and light music allowed for the chat to venture to a louder volume than the restaurant had afforded us. They also transferred the bill upstairs which just made life easier.
This place would look the same at 1pm as it would at 3am - decadent isn't a strong enough word for the decor; it verges on the pornographic. Plush, sensuous and intimate.
The bar totally makes up for the restuarant - maybe enquire and do your pre- or post- dinner drinks here and go somewhere else. Or perhaps before the show, stop into the bar.
Superb.
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