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Phone: 020 7965 0165
Open: Open lunch 12.30-2.30pm Monday-Sunday; dinner 5.30-11pm Monday to Saturday (10pm Sunday)
Top dog: Landau head chef Andrew Turner trained with Albert Roux
Grazing is a curious word to have chosen for an ostentatious mode of dining. On the one hand, it signifies eating grass, which in turn tends to involve chewing the cud. On the other, it has frankly derogatory connotations these days, meaning idle channel-switching, snaffling food in the supermarket without paying for it, or just eating rubbish on the hoof, feral youth-style.
Chef Andrew Turner, however, is primarily identified with the concept of "grazing" that allows diners to have as many as 10 smaller dishes at a sitting, rather than the traditional three courses. Having trained with Albert Roux, he has won awards while developing this style at the Bentley Kempinski, at Brown's, and more recently at Pennyhill Park in Bagshot, Surrey. Turner calls his cooking Contemporary European - "a deconstruction of classic food followed by a reconstruction of those same ingredients, but in a contemporary style". He has joked that he is "the Vanessa-Mae of classical cuisine", a strange self-profiling, surely not meaning that he's a bit of a looker whose talent has been oversold?
This week, Turner has opened the new restaurant at the Langham Hotel, opposite Broadcasting House, once a down-at-heel establishment. No longer. It's changed into a grandiose place, with a noisy cocktail bar, Artesian, open since January, and now a sumptuous dining room with its own street entrance, The Landau, named after the carriage in which the Prince of Wales rode to open the Langham in 1865.
The ubiquitous David Collins has designed the restaurant, which seats 100, in a lush style he calls " Contemporary Orientalism". The room is dominated by three big brass chandeliers; the sweeping bay window over the street is echoed by a new curved wall opposite; there are lots of banquettes upholstered in strangely embossed pale green, blue and gold leathers that would make flashy handbags. The walls are in timbered panelling, the staff all wear sleekly cut uniforms and the overall lighting effect is gentle, golden, flattering.
Last Friday, The Landau was on its "soft opening", although prices weren't softened and it was already busy. Of course, you can eat more straightforwardly there - there's a three-course theatre menu for £27.50, a three-course chef 's menu for £32.50 - but we felt duty-bound to graze, as most of the other customers seemed to be doing. Grazing menus start at £55 for five courses, running up to £70 for eight courses. We had one five-course graze and one quite different six-course graze, with one course deleted so they could be served at the same time.
"Salade Isabelle, quail egg, truffles and artichokes" seemed unrewardingly over-complicated in its ingredients. However, "pumpkin soup, cepes and quail egg", also overlaid with black truffle slices, was much more delicious - a warm, earthy taste, accompanied by neat oily little cepes on the side of the bowl.
Next, micro-fish courses. "Fillet of mackerel à la plancha, parsley, lemon and garlic" presented some small pieces of ultra-fresh nicely cooked mackerel, rather randomly accompanied by a reduction and lots of little dice, which would reappear in later courses - transparent chunks of gelatified "balsamic", for example, providing a sharp little taste hit if you cared to pick them out.
Onwards. "Scottish halibut, basquaise, curried mussels, apple and fennel salad" had decisively too many distinct flavours. If you have a nice piece of fish, don't you want to enjoy it simply, however jaded your palate?
"Anjou pigeon, artichoke purée, caper dressing and balsamic" saw a return of those little cubes, around a perfectly pink pigeon breast. Unheralded, there was also a tiny slice of a tasty roll, containing "confit" pigeon mixed with sausage meat.
On, on. "Roast breast of Challans duck, parsnip purée and sweet meat sauce", all very well judged, came with a piece of fresh foie gras, too, for that overkill effect. "Line-caught Guernsey sea bass fillet, confit tomatoes and smoked olive oil" was again a small portion of fish of such quality as to make you wish it had been served with plain olive oil and lemon juice and nothing else. Instead, it sat on an excessively sweet confit of peppers and tomatoes.
Even the puddings were overwrought. "Toffee cheese cake, pineapple and coconut ice cream" was just over-rich, the cheesecake uncomfortably glutinous.
The long and imposing wine list begins at £25 and then goes off like a rocket. We had one absurdly expensive bottle of mineral water (Voss, £7.50) and a bottle of fresh Sauvignon de Touraine, Jean-Christophe Mandard, at £28. The bill, with a 12.5 per cent service and space left for further donations, came to £163.69.
We left feeling uncomfortable, not even so much digestively as morally. What "grazing" is about is trying to cram in as many prestige ingredients and as much ambitious cooking as physically possible into a single meal that can be consumed without keeling over. In those terms, The Landau certainly delivers. But is this in any way a good taste aspiration?
This is, quite simply, cuisine for people with more money than they can eat. And while grazing sounds agreeably pastoral, these menus should really be known by a more truthful name at the top of the card. Pigging, say. Or hogging.
Details are correct at the time of publication - please check with venue before booking.
