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Phone: 020 7352 4441
Open: Mon to Fri 12.00-14.00&18.30-23.00
Bland canvas: The refurb has resulted in off-white furnishings, Caramac-coloured leather and cream panelling
Gordon Ramsay has just been appointed the official face of Threshers, the booze chain, with the immortal campaign line 'Wines you can swear by'. I hope the copywriter has the grace to hang their head in shame.
At the same time, he's just about to launch his first restaurant in New York (I am so looking forward to hearing what hard-boiled Noo Yorkers make of him. His Big Sweary Shtick they've already bought with Hell's Kitchen USA, but when they're handing over big bucks in a city heaving with high-end restaurants, they might be less benevolent.)
And he's setting up his own chain of gastropubs. Not to mention his just-published autobiography, TV shows, cookbooks, DVDs, endorsements, magazine and newspaper columns, all the while telling us how much he likes leaping on his wife. Jeez, it takes me all day to write a few words and hang out the washing. You can only gape in awe.
Meanwhile, he has totally refurbished his Royal Hospital Road flagship, Restaurant Gordon Ramsay. As it's one of only three eating places in the UK to brandish the full complement of Michelin stars, this is something of a major event. The foodie community has been gagging to find out how he has made over what was a notoriously naff room, a suburban tart's fantasy of bad wallpaper and blown-glass vases. And so have we.
Well, of course, we had to wait weeks for a reservation. And I'll get how much it cost to eat at what was this week confirmed as London's priciest restaurant out of the way early, so you can start gaping, too: £460 for two. For transparency's sake, I'll confess that some drink was taken: two bottles of wine from the shallow end of the baroque wine list (it was a long, looooong meal); a couple of glasses of Niersteiner with foie gras and a brace of stickies with pudding.
And we had the seven-course tasting 'Menu Prestige' at £110 a head, as opposed to the a la carte at £85, with supplement for some truffle risotto. But still. And I haven't got over my irritation at that 'Menu Prestige' titling: what a blatant, cynical piece of upselling, a way of making the punter who doesn't choose it feel like the poor relation. What are they getting? The 'Menu Declasse'?
And the refurb? So utterly bland as to be forgettable. Acres of off-white furnishings, Caramac-coloured leather and cream panelling. Perhaps the blandness is deliberate, a blank canvas for the holy, sainted food.
Ah yes, the food. It's not bad - of course it's not - but I don't think at this level of dining I've eaten a more soulless dinner. Obviously, GR is not in the kitchen, so his myrmidons churn out a succession of dishes like so many automata.
We asked one of our many, many waiters what it was like to work for Gordon. 'Hard,' he said. 'He tells us the smallest details make the biggest difference.' In that case, I feel justified in pointing out that my partridge was overcooked into greyness and came with the kind of garnishes (roasted baby veg, Madeira sauce) you'd get in an upscale gastropub.
My turbot suffered the same fate, resulting in waxy dryness (although its buttery, grapefruity veloute was ravishing). And I don't mind complaining that several dishes brandished identical blobs of celeriac puree, or baby onions, or mimsy cauliflower florets. Dishes are slicked with dated swirls of balsamic reduction. Silky, slippery pork belly (cooked for 40 hours, apparently) came with an apple compote that tasted like jarred baby food.
The cooking is solid, Francophile, classic, based mostly on luxury ingredients. Every now and then, a little contemporary flourish is chucked in - Space Dust in a coconutty cocktail, dry ice under a long-standing petit four of strawberry ice-filled chocolates - but it's derivative stuff. Further irritations: the date's egg aversion meant he didn't get a witty little play on breakfast (scrambled in a shell, duxelles of mushrooms, tomato foam, beans, pork crackling) but a measly frill of salad and artichoke. In New York's WD-50, he scored an elaborate dish of noodles alchemically created from prawn meat.
Oh sure, there were good things - that ripe, truffle risotto; sea bass with a heady morel sauce - but there was nothing that made me purr at its deliciousness. And for that kind of money, I want a purr.
Where's the excitement? Where's the original vision? It goes without saying that you can eat better abroad, but hell, you can eat better here in London: Le Gavroche, Pied ‡ Terre or Tom Aikens when he's on form. If we're talking Michelin groupie-dom, I'm aching to have another session with The French Laundry, or Arzak, even the often inedible weirdnesses of El Bulli.
I can honestly say, though, I won't lose any sleep over never darkening Restaurant Gordon Ramsay's doors again, no matter how significant the refurb. But with a throbbing media career and a legion of slavering fans, he's cursing all the way to the bank. He should care.
Details are correct at the time of publication - please check with venue before booking.
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I must say that I think Marina O'Loughlin's review was unfair. I have recently experience a truly memorable dinner at Gordon Ramsay's and as I say it was outstanding. The service was impeccable and it was actually refreshing to have waiters with a sense of humour. I am truly a fan of the restaurant. The decor was plain and yet warm at the same time. I had a wonderful table seated in the corner by the door overlooking the restaurant. Although there are only a handful of tables one does not feel that they are sitting on each other's laps and listening to conversations from the next table. We went for the menu prestige, against my initial reservations but I must say that it was wonderful. Seven courses of pure delight. If you do get the chance to go then do. We had a 9.30pm sitting which we thought was rather late but to be honest it was probably better than an earlier one. We eventually left at approximately 1.30am and even then we didn't feel as though we were being urged to leave. The restaurant, the food and the service are all wonderful. I can't wait to return.
- Victoria, London, England
Fair enough I expect, I shall never have the money spare to find out for myself. Gordon is due his press kicking, as all superstars in every field get one eventually.
- Pauline, London
