I should know better than to leave it more than a week to write a restaurant review, because unless I put words around the tastes I can't bring them to mind. Once the description is there the recollection remains firm, which is why in the following you will hear all about the food I talked about excitedly at the time, but embarassingly little about the centre piece of the meal, which kept my mouth far too busy with the eating and the emitting occasional faint moans of pleasure to actually say much.
Last week
themidnightgirl and I continued in our quest to find the best steak in London, and this time we were seeking it at the Goodman, which opened just off Regent Street at the end of last year.
First impressions were not good. We arrived a couple of minutes early for our 9.30 table, and were asked to wait in the (small, cramped) bar area whilst our table was prepared. The place was packed with loud drunk people, which combined with the accoustics meant we could barely hear ourselves speak as we waited (more than a couple of minutes).
Fortunately, it got better from there on in. We were seated in a corner which was mostly walled off from the main restaurant, and therefore a lot quieter, and settled down to study the menu, until a waiter came along with a big plate of beef and talked us through the different cuts, along with recommendations of how each should be cooked to best show off its particular characteristics. Thus far on the quest I've always gone for the fillet steak, so I can make a fair comparison, but this time the marbling in the raw meat got to me, and I couldn't resist the grass-fed bone in sirloin.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. After a slightly longer wait than we would have liked, given how hungry we were, we both started with fish, although about as different as fish gets. I had a stunning lobster bisque, rich and creamy, with a delicate swirl of tarragon butter, and a gloriously warm, almost caramel undertone. Robert had picked herring which came in a jar and were accompanied by hot mustard; not a dish for those who aren't keen on strong flavours, but sharp and piquant and exciting for those of us who do. And served with slightly more bread than he needed, which is fortunate, because it meant I could mop up the last traces of my bisque, saving myself the loss of dignity that would otherwise have been involved in licking the plate.
I was still pretty hungry, so when a large white plate containing nothing but eighteen ounces of thick, charred, dead cow arrived in front of me, it was pretty much like manna from heaven. I leant over and breathed in the aromas, and tried to restrain my watering mouth from chomping away before the sides and sauce arrived. When they did I had my only disappointment in terms of food, as the bernaise was rather too vinegary for my tastes, but this wasn't really a problem, as the steak was so good that even a perfect sauce might have interfered unnecessarily. The sides were basically flawless - chips that were crisp but delicate on the outside, and melt in the mouth fluffy on the inside, and honey and ginger-glazed carrots cooked just firm enough, and correctly (and unusually) sparing on the honey. We accompanied it with a bottle of Mendel Malbec 2007*, which was good and a decent match for the steak, without being outstanding. Berryish, a bit of chocolate, moderate tannins.
After all that we were a bit too stuffed for puddings, and it was getting late, so we called it a day. This is, along with the Sloane Gaucho and Griegs, a real contender for best steak so far. There are a couple of places we're still keen to try, and then we'll be back to the places we liked best a second time to make sure. After that, who knows - maybe we can look for the best sushi in London?
*
kake - it was marked up by about 160%.
Last week
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
First impressions were not good. We arrived a couple of minutes early for our 9.30 table, and were asked to wait in the (small, cramped) bar area whilst our table was prepared. The place was packed with loud drunk people, which combined with the accoustics meant we could barely hear ourselves speak as we waited (more than a couple of minutes).
Fortunately, it got better from there on in. We were seated in a corner which was mostly walled off from the main restaurant, and therefore a lot quieter, and settled down to study the menu, until a waiter came along with a big plate of beef and talked us through the different cuts, along with recommendations of how each should be cooked to best show off its particular characteristics. Thus far on the quest I've always gone for the fillet steak, so I can make a fair comparison, but this time the marbling in the raw meat got to me, and I couldn't resist the grass-fed bone in sirloin.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. After a slightly longer wait than we would have liked, given how hungry we were, we both started with fish, although about as different as fish gets. I had a stunning lobster bisque, rich and creamy, with a delicate swirl of tarragon butter, and a gloriously warm, almost caramel undertone. Robert had picked herring which came in a jar and were accompanied by hot mustard; not a dish for those who aren't keen on strong flavours, but sharp and piquant and exciting for those of us who do. And served with slightly more bread than he needed, which is fortunate, because it meant I could mop up the last traces of my bisque, saving myself the loss of dignity that would otherwise have been involved in licking the plate.
I was still pretty hungry, so when a large white plate containing nothing but eighteen ounces of thick, charred, dead cow arrived in front of me, it was pretty much like manna from heaven. I leant over and breathed in the aromas, and tried to restrain my watering mouth from chomping away before the sides and sauce arrived. When they did I had my only disappointment in terms of food, as the bernaise was rather too vinegary for my tastes, but this wasn't really a problem, as the steak was so good that even a perfect sauce might have interfered unnecessarily. The sides were basically flawless - chips that were crisp but delicate on the outside, and melt in the mouth fluffy on the inside, and honey and ginger-glazed carrots cooked just firm enough, and correctly (and unusually) sparing on the honey. We accompanied it with a bottle of Mendel Malbec 2007*, which was good and a decent match for the steak, without being outstanding. Berryish, a bit of chocolate, moderate tannins.
After all that we were a bit too stuffed for puddings, and it was getting late, so we called it a day. This is, along with the Sloane Gaucho and Griegs, a real contender for best steak so far. There are a couple of places we're still keen to try, and then we'll be back to the places we liked best a second time to make sure. After that, who knows - maybe we can look for the best sushi in London?
*
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
no subject
Date: 2009-09-10 03:14 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-09-10 03:21 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-09-10 03:27 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-09-10 03:47 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-09-10 03:51 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-09-10 04:06 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-09-10 07:13 pm (UTC)From:There's a tiny, low-key, family-run Greek restaurant a short walk from my house which does an enormous £18 fillet steak hailed on their website as the best steak in London. Having tried it, Denny agrees. The restaurant is the opposite of posh in every way, but the food is superb. If you and