http://trustedplaces.com/review/uk/london/restaurant/1211v8s/le-gavroche <b>Le Gavroche</b><br />London, 43 Upper Brook Street, W1K 7QR, United Kingdom en http://trustedplaces.com/uploads/placepics/trustedplaces.comaPlacePic['name']}.140.jpg http://trustedplaces.com/review/uk/london/restaurant/1211v8s/le-gavroche http://trustedplaces.com/review/uk/london/restaurant/1211v8s/le-gavroche/1p5ey7
Review by Food_Snob

Rating: 4.00
Tags:
Illustrated Critique:

http://foodsnobblog.wordpress.com/2008/06/27/le-gavroche-london/

Text-only Critique:

The Le Gavroche. That is not an error that is emphasis. Londoners owe It a debt of gratitude. A huge debt. Before Its arrival, fine dining did not exist in the city. Eating well was not a priority/desire/care; â¬Üwe knew nothing of the British indifference to food because we had only ever cooked for the rich,â¬" Albert Roux has admitted. It was the sixties and Albert and younger brother Michel, already in London as personal chefs to the Cazelet and Rothschild families respectively, saw their opportunity. With their former employers turned patrons, Le Gavroche was established in 1967 and It changed everything.

Today such rudimentary ingredients as foie gras are taken for granted by luxury diners. However, when Le Gavroche first opened such foods were simply not available in England: Madame Roux herself would drive to France and smuggle foie gras and poulet de Bresse across the Channel and through customs. In fact, these selfsame diners should also be grateful to Le Gavroche for even having the choice to dine à la Michelin. It was the first English restaurant to be awarded a star, two stars and of course, the first to win three. Before Le Gavroche, London had no stars. Now, it has 45.

Although not Londonâ¬"s oldest, nor most expensive, no longer even the most starred - It only (only?) has two at the moment ⬠Le Gavroche is a hallowed name; a little ironic given that gavrocheâ¬"s literal translation is urchin (delightful French faux-modesty). It is arguably the single most influential, most monumental, most revolutionary restaurant to have ever graced Londonâ¬"s dining scene. To appreciate this, one has only to consider the many chefs who have worked their way through Its kitchen: Marco Pierre White, Gordon Ramsay, Marcus Wareing, Phillip Howard, the list goes on and on and on. Le Gavroche symbolises the best of the best, the finest of the fine, la crème de la crème ⬠just the thought of It makes me smile ⬠and it is for me, one of the greatest gastro-experiences London has to offer.

Understandably therefore, for a long time, I was almost too worried to dine here; too worried that I might waste such a precious experience. I was simply unable to bring myself to spontaneously dine at Le Gavroche; that would be disrespectful. Over time however, my timidity naturally cowered to my curiosity ⬠so much for self-discipline and control ⬠and I decided to make reservations for the soonest special occasion available: Mumsyâ¬"s birthday. Calling a week in advance, I booked dinner for three the following Friday. Nonetheless, just in case, I also rang Gordon Ramsay @ RHR and Pétrus, but only made it onto their waiting lists: at least this way, should one of these become available, I could still â¬Üsaveâ¬" Le Gavroche.

As bad luck would have it, the day before dinner and her birthday (subconscious ordering of priorities here ⬠I am a bad, bad person), Mumsy fell ill and though it was nothing too serious (so no need for well-wishing comments etc, she will be fine), it was enough to prevent her going to dinner. Dilemma: confirm for one or cancel? Give in or hold out? I am weak, I am selfish, I am a gourmand: I didnâ¬"t just bite the solid gold bullet, I ate the whole damn thing and confirmed. I shall not deny it, it felt good. (For the record, sneaky Pétrus did try and test me, offering me a table last minute, but taking Pétrusâ¬" someoneâ¬"s anyoneâ¬"s sloppy seconds over Le Gavroche would be insolence personified. I declined).

All Friday, I was as giddy as a schoolgirl. It was like Christmas Eve: I was full of nervous energy and had no way to expend it. Needless to say, the seconds past slower, the minutes lasted longer and the hours never ended: it was a long day.

Patience paid off and eventually I found myself outside 43 Upper Brook Street, a nondescript town house: humble, discreet, unpretentious, just like Its orphan tramp namesake and perfect for Le Gavroche. Scaffolding even hid the â¬ÜLe Gavrocheâ¬" name and only the symbolic fleur-de-lis, the Relais & Chateaux logo, was visible.

Once through the fey portal, one is transported into a small, posh salon where one can order an aperitif, enjoy some canapés and peruse the menu. When ready, one is escorted downstairs into the main dining room. The atmosphere is very gentlemanâ¬"s club; furnishings are very soft; lights are very dim; the ceiling is very low; it is all very French. As Spartan as the exterior is, the interior is Croesian. Between plush green walls, low-backed claret-fabric chairs surround generously-spaced tables, each draped in heavy, pristine-white napery upon which polished silver glistens. Tables are garnished with a sterling salt-holder offering both sel gris and regular salt, a brass candle-holder, a small wooden pepper grinder and even a sterling sculpture of some creature unique to each table (mine was a lovely big fish). The silverware is monogrammed with a little chef figure and the crockery carries a caricature of the young Michel Roux Jr. The room has not changed with the times, permitting critics to label it out-dated, faded, even run down (the nerve!). However, fashion is something Le Gavroche is supremely indifferent to. In todayâ¬"s times, when restaurants are designed by architects and minimalism is celebrated, It revels in being too decorated, too indulgent, too flowery and instead of posturing to fashions, It prefers to allow fashions to return to It, as they probably will, eventually.

After taking my seat along the comfy banquette, my senses swelled with the smell of sweet flowers; gladiola, pussy willows, orchids and rubrum lilies, whose large, fresh, (more) green, (more) red bouquets adorned the walls and intoxicated diners, were the first flavours of my dinner. There is no music ⬠it is almost too serious for that ⬠instead there is the gentle clinking of cutlery upon crockery. The staff, possibly outnumbering the guests, were formally dressed and French. Emmanuel, my serveur en chef, welcomed me. He was refined, slick, obliging; I felt in good hands. I warned him that I came to enjoy an obscenely indulgent meal, but needed help constructing a carte sur mesure. At once he set to work and after a lengthy discussion, wherein he demonstrated great patience and consideration, we settled upon a three-entrée-one-plat-principal-two-dessert menu. After dispatching my order (and probably as it was still early and quiet), I was offered a chance to see the kitchen which, after feigning only a polite curiosity for the staffsâ¬" benefit (I was totally tickled on the inside), I accepted.

Nervous and eager, I followed Emmanuel into the inner sanctum: I was about to pop my restaurant-kitchen cherry with the Casanova-Don-Juan-Romeo-all-rolled-into-one of restaurants. This was, after all, the Roux kitchen; a name that is the natural heir to Escoffier and Carême and run by the very dauphin of the family, Michel Roux Jr. Michel is a real chefâ¬"s chef, preferring to lead his kitchen instead of running a business empire or making television programmes. He approached. He greeted me. I tried to act suave and cool. I barely managed to mumble something about what a pleasure it was to meet him. He continued asking me questions. I continued gushing barely coherent responses. However, his super-friendly, relaxed, easy manner meant this did not last long. He showed off his kitchen as we discussed topics from dining to football; it was all quite charming. Even his accent was disarming: he speaks like a typical Londoner, which coming from a man whose food is more French than most of that found in France, was unexpected. However, Michel was brought up an Englishmen; something that has not manifested itself in his cookery. Along with the cooking gene, he also inherited a love of and allegiance to classic French cuisine from his father, Albert. In fact, the food, probably a little lighter than it was, is now even more French. Anyhow, (gently refocusing the narrative on me) after Michel wished me bon appétit, I was returned to my table and the adventure was allowed to continue⬦

Amuse Bouche 1: Millefeuille de Foie Gras. Two squares of foie came enrobed in wafer-thin layers of pastry. The very delicate, slightly sweet foie melted in the mouth, whilst une feuille simple ou deux of pastry teased the palate with a flaky, crunchy texture. As mentioned in previous posts, I am not overly keen on pâtés, terrines, rillettes and the like, but this was not at all bad.

Amuse Bouche 2: Fromage Bleu sur de Pain de Gingembre. A whip of blue cheese studied with candied fruit was served atop a thick gingerbread cracker. The formidable cheese, fridge-firm initially, yielded quickly enough, but the sticky cracker proved rather resistant, finally betraying only a weak taste of ginger. The mousse/crunch contradiction was brought into play once more.

Amuse Bouche 3: Rouleau de Printemps de Canard. A translucent spring roll of coarsely shredded duck, flavoured with oriental spices, was accompanied by compote of aubergine. The duck, springy almost in texture, was uncompromising in taste: the birdâ¬"s natural savour combined with the Chinese sauce to make it spicy, rich and sweet. The earthy aubergine complemented the spring roll well. This dish hinted at Chef Rouxâ¬"s proclivity for Oriental cuisine, surely picked up whilst working in Hong Kong in his earlier days.

Les Pains: After les amuses came and went, the bread basket arrived, offering four choices: country, cereal, brown and white baguette. Each was warm, each beautifully bucolic in appearance but, though decent tasting, lacked an essential lightness and fluffiness. I probably preferred the brown, which was rather dense and had a very organic taste. Both salted and unsalted butters supplemented the bread.

Entrée 1: Soufflé Suissesse. Cheese soufflé cooked on double cream. The menuâ¬"s translation does not do this justice. Arguably Le Gavrocheâ¬"s most famous dish, certainly its oldest, this has been on the menu since day one. An ethereal island of rich Gruyere cheese arrived floating upon a deep lake of béchamel and cream sauces. The initial savoury aroma of the baked cheese confection tantalised the taste buds. The appearance, grandiose and striking yet so delicate, almost prevents one from violating that gentle crust, but each ambrosial spoonful that follows brushes all regrets aside. Each moist, indulgent, buttery bite is a palpable step closer towards an early, but richly deserved, grave.

Entrée 2: Gratin de Langoustines et Escargots au Persil et Pimet dâ¬"Espelette. Three plump escargots lay with six lazy langoustines curled up in a heavenly waterbed of hollandaise sauce enlivened with Basque pepper and parsley. Each element came together perfectly, complementing and contrasting different flavours and textures, to seduce the eater. This inspired and original reinvention of the â¬Üclassicâ¬" surf-â¬"nâ¬"-turf combined deep, earthy, mushroom-like snails and their smooth, sweet, seafaring cousins, the candy-like langoustines. The introduction of pimet dâ¬"Espelette gave the dish a lovely Pyrenean-peppery heat and the sour lemon zest and unctuous eggy creaminess of the hollandaise provided a cooling balance. Each drowning petite précieux, once rescued from the amber emulsion, oozed bubbling-warm buttery goodness from every orifice. This dish was a delicious wow.

Entrée 3: Escalope de Foie Gras Chaud et Pastilla à la Cannelle. A thick, generous lobe of foie gras and open pancake fat with thinly shredded duck came resting atop a berry coulis; this was another example of Rouxâ¬"s affection for the Orient. The exotic, sweet smell of warm cinnamon from the pancake was the first flavour hit; it enticed the eater in. My second taste was the pancake itself whose perfectly crafted, crisp pastry cracked to uncover rich, intensely-spiced, densely-packed canard laqué. My attention and my knife then turned on the foie; upon piercing the lacquered burgundy seared skin, the blade literally fell through the milky, melting middle. The sour sweet berry coulis tempered the luscious meats. This was the best foie gras I have ever had and another wow.

Plat Principal: Côte de Veau Rôtie aux Morilles, Chartreuse de Légumes et Pommes Mousseline. A whole rib of roasted French veal was carved tableside and plated with a carrot and haricot vert chartreuse and a helping of mashed potato, over which a creamy morel sauce was generously poured. The liberal rib cut, cooked until chocolate auburn outside, concealed a tender rosy pink core. Slicing open the cleverly constructed chartreuse revealed the lightest, airiest spinach puree. The pommes had great consistency; creamy and buttery with just a touch of palate-clinging stickiness to allow the serious savouring of any lingering sapour.

The star of the dish, however, was the magnificently ugly mushrooms. Each morel morsel was a taste explosion; a taste so distinct, yet so difficult to articulate. A mottled mix of earthy, nutty, smoky and sweet tones only offers a hint to their genuine flavour. These spongy, honeycomb enigmas swam in a thick bitter sweet jus that proved an excellent foil.

Dessert 1: Soufflé aux Fruits de la Passion et Glace Ivoire. A perfect passion fruit soufflé came served with luxurious white chocolate ice cream. The precisely and adeptly executed delicacy would not be confined to its white porcelain prison, rising to expose its crisp, but fragile lemon chiffon sugar-dusted skin. Upon presentation, this delicate skin was ruptured and warm passion fruit sauce was poured into the open wound, on top of which a thick scoop of ivory ice cream was nestled. The soufflé had impeccable consistency; smooth, fluffy and mellow. The passion fruit gave a strong citric sweetness, which was cooled by the incredibly flavourful, balsamic ice cream; no small feat given that white chocolate is one of the harder flavours to instil and is so often lost. Passion fruit seeds, hidden like buried gems at the ramekinâ¬"s base, added an unexpected crunch. The soufflé, as to be expected with passion fruit, was very rich and very intense, forcing me to enjoy second (and third) helpings of ice cream.



Dessert 2: La Dégustation aux Framboises. This marathon meal was concluded in mini-epic manner with a raspberry-themed collection of mini-gourmandises: Beignet au Coulis; Soufflé; Sorbet; and Millefeuille. The arrangement was delightful; a veritable feast for the eyes. Unfortunately, the one error in execution (that I observed anyway) happened during the final course: the beignet (â¬Üraspberry coulis with warm sugar-coated jam doughnutâ¬"), instead of light and fluffy, was heavy and hard. However, this is but a niggling point and can easily be overlooked. Next, I enjoyed another excellent mini soufflé, followed by a refreshing sorbet, which rested upon a bed of dark chocolate embers. The shift from hot, soft, sweet soufflé to cool, hard, sour sorbet manipulated textures, temperatures and tastes. Finally, I progressed to the refined and dainty millefeuille, crafted from thin dark chocolate wafers, ripe raspberries and scrumptious crème Chantilly.

Café et Petit Fours: A collection of canelés, macarons de noix de coco, groseilles vertes sucrées and tuiles pavot sésame accompanied my strong, creamy smooth espresso. The macarons had good texture and taste; coconut essence is also difficult to capture well. The groseilles (physalis), caramel-dipped and coconut-laced, had been transformed from soft fruit to hard-husked, molten-cored flavour grenades. The tuiles, made simply of sesame, poppy and corn syrup, were crunchy, light and sticky, but did not have me picking seeds indelicately out of my teeth (surprisingly and pleasingly). The best I saved till last: the canelés. Soft, tender custard centre; dark, thick caramelized crust; je les adore. Each breaking bite through that firm, crisp, tenné coat, into the golden, mushy egg mush in the middle, made me happier and]]> Thu, 28 Aug 2008 12:17:18 +0000 /review/uk/london/restaurant/1211v8s/le-gavroche/1p5ey71820651735 Food_Snob 51.51066145416 -0.15544060219917 http://trustedplaces.com/review/uk/london/restaurant/1211v8s/le-gavroche/1h07k8
Review by gastro1

Rating: 4.00
Tags:
I have had some of my best meals in London in Le Gavroche both in Sloane Street and Mayfair.

The best beef cheek stew ever served with an amazing mouseline of potatoes as well as superb pan fried scallops with thin crispy vegetables and a touch of oriental spice.

It has remained at the top of fine French cuisine right through to Albert Roux handing over to his son Michel Roux Jr -despite losing it's third star at handover for me it was just as good for a few years - However this is no longer the case since around 2005 and I am not sure why ?

I suspect Michel is more interested in running Marathons and working out in the gym which is fine if like Ramsey at Royal Hospital Road you have sme of the best young talent wrking the stoves.]]> Sat, 08 Mar 2008 16:41:46 +0000 /review/uk/london/restaurant/1211v8s/le-gavroche/1h07k8638962729 gastro1 51.51066145416 -0.15544060219917 http://trustedplaces.com/review/uk/london/restaurant/1211v8s/le-gavroche/1o22r8
Review by wyahaw

Rating: 5.00
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It is indeed one of the very top restaurants in London, right up there in the top five. A detailed review can be found at:

http://www.andyhayler.com/show_restaurant.asp?id=311&country=UK]]> Fri, 18 May 2007 22:33:02 +0000 /review/uk/london/restaurant/1211v8s/le-gavroche/1o22r8973293598 wyahaw 51.51066145416 -0.15544060219917 http://trustedplaces.com/review/uk/london/restaurant/1211v8s/le-gavroche/1o42g8
Review by nainishb

Rating: 4.00
Tags:
Over-rated, especially for price]]> Fri, 18 May 2007 14:36:56 +0000 /review/uk/london/restaurant/1211v8s/le-gavroche/1o42g8691592409 nainishb 51.51066145416 -0.15544060219917 http://trustedplaces.com/review/uk/london/restaurant/1211v8s/le-gavroche/1m72v8
Review by freddie5540

Rating: 5.00
Tags:
There is a reason why this restaurant has been open for over 35 years, its bloody good!! The Gavroche could win anyone over with its impeccable service and ultra-refined cooking.

Silvano has been plying his trade here since the very beginning and is in full command of his dining room. Michel Roux jnr is a master behind the stoves. On my visit i had the pleasure of meeting him. I walked into the kitchen, unnannounced to find him on the pastry section preparing what i think was a souffle mix.

We ate like kings, the fricasse of langoustines with ginger that i ate was a lesson in subtle cookery with just the slightest hint of the fragrant ginger behind the sweetness of the perfectly cooked langoustine. A little butter sauce and delicate cucumber finished it off. My companion devoured a globe artichoke with foie gras and black truffles. I tasted it and wished i had ordered it myself! A fillet of beef with foie gras and white truffle maccaronni cheese followed for me. It was rich and satisfying, balancing strong flavours well. Whole lobster with jersusalem artichokes and wild mushrooms was magnificent, my partner again ordering very well.
We finished with the chefs selection of desserts allowing you to sample several of the a la carte dishes. Delicious.

The service is attentive yet not overwhelming. The room a grand, dimly lit basemnent in Mayfair. You get the feeling that many an important decision has been made under this roof. When your food arrives and the waiters lift of the kosh, it is like a ceremony.

We dined on Valentines day and were not surprised to see a proposal at a table opposite and every woman in the restaurant received a long stemmed red rose, very slick!

Very expensive, yet faultless. A part of London food history.]]> Tue, 15 May 2007 17:41:19 +0000 /review/uk/london/restaurant/1211v8s/le-gavroche/1m72v81530258380 freddie5540 51.51066145416 -0.15544060219917 http://trustedplaces.com/review/uk/london/restaurant/1211v8s/le-gavroche/188247
Review by Hugo

Rating: 5.00
Tags:
Nothing like being contraversial but this is certainly the finest restaurant I have ever eaten at in London.

Founded by the Roux duo in 1967 it was the first UK restaurant to be awarded 3 michelin stars, so you might expect something special. Now run by Michel Roux Jr and Silvano I have to say that I have never experienced anything quite like it (true to say that I am probably not well versed in eating in such pampered environs). You are literally waited on hand-over foot and the food is a sensation. I have been a few times now and I always forget quite how good it is. I object to paying huge amounts of money for posh restaurants and feel a skeptical as I approach the table but each time I have been won over. The food is a dream and the things that I have had that have wowed me especially are the souffles...in fact it was all exceptional. Each time it feels like a genuine treat and I am quite surpised at how good it is.

If I sound a little over the top it is because it is. Maybe it should be at the price but you get what you pay for.]]> Mon, 23 Apr 2007 05:34:04 +0000 /review/uk/london/restaurant/1211v8s/le-gavroche/18824786305422 Hugo 51.51066145416 -0.15544060219917