Morning:
14°c
Some fares could fall by more than a third when Oyster is extended to every national rail station in London, it has emerged
More...
New Moon is nothing if not an international advertisement for the hungry virtues of virginity and young people can’t get enough of it
The Twilight Saga: New Moon
Theatre
A smart, prickly and rewarding view of sexual and emotional confusion
Cock
Restaurants
Kitchen W8 is a bargain for this area, if such sophistication is what you crave
Kitchen W8
Too long and drawn out but very entertaining with excellent special effects
This is a peculiar play and does not work for me. Some of it is very funny but there are real flaws
Alex has a strong powerful voice and was faultless, she is far better now than she was on the X-Factor
London,
Critic rating
Reader rating
Phone: 020 7373 7774
Open: Mon-Sat noon -2pm and 7-10pm
Priceless service: Aurelien Gil-Artagnan has been head sommelier at Ambassade de l'Ile for six months
It's about time we kicked off the shackles of conformity. We need to lose the sheep mentality. Wearing identical clothes from duplicated franchises that dominate indistinguishable high streets up and down the land. Patronising predictable restaurant chains. How joyless it is to eat the same pizza in Wimbledon as one being served simultaneously in Cardiff or Arbroath. So why do legions of us do it, week after week? We may as well be opening cans of soup at home.
Yet it doesn't have to be like this. For just £20, you can have a superb two-course lunch cooked by a Michelin-starred chef. Which is probably about the same price you'd pay for your chargrilled bland-burger.
The chef in question is Jean-Christophe Ansanay-Alex and his new(ish) restaurant is Ambassade de l'Ile on the Old Brompton Road. Guy and I had eaten dinner here a while back (which wasn't great because Jean-Christophe was away and the food was lacklustre and far too expensive), but I wanted to see what the set lunch had to offer before I damned the place.
By day, the red-brick building looks terribly respectable - rather like a small provincial library - an image that is quickly dispelled as you step into the surprising, Tardis-like interior. It's Seventies meets James Bond. Here a stylish spy or a disco diva could feel equally at home. This is land of leather - with giant white geometric squares of the stuff mounting the walls.
I was meeting my novelist friend who had just finished a book and who always gets excited at the combination of Michelin stars and Frenchmen (she's eternally single but lives in hope).
Windswept on arrival, she scuttled off in search of the loo and breathlessly reported back that it was a cross between a sex shop and a torture chamber - with spooky black walls and gushing little ultraviolet water fountains.
Purple is obviously the colour (no politician worth his salt is currently seen wearing a tie of any other shade) --for it is both serious and decorative. The walls here are aubergine. Deep purple freesias adorn each pristine table. Only the grey-green shagpile carpet seemed at odds with the rest of the room, but I assumed it was post-modern irony.
Service (other than the manager, who seemed to spend the entire meal touching a computer screen in a way that suggested she was administering torture by remote control) was excellent. We were brought a little lacy tower of crispy herbs and vegetables (delicious) and bread that was still warm, while we looked at the three different menus. Predictably, the novelist ran her eyes greedily over the à la carte, but I gently steered her towards the lunch menu.
Choice is limited to two dishes but - as I may have mentioned before - I get flummoxed by too many options. My guest started with confit of chicken and tarragon terrine, which she thought looked like upmarket cat food but tasted delicious. My cappuccino of langoustines was richly intense and played the clever, if slightly disconcerting, visual trick of looking exactly like a cup of coffee.
My main course of cod and fine herb risotto arrived, as did my friend's roast duck. Unfortunately, as soon she saw mine, she insisted on swapping. I gazed at the perfect slab of fish sat on a gleaming mound of rice rather wistfully as she tucked in. She said it was light and fantastic. My (her) plate was beautifully presented: fanned pink meat, half a tiny heart, a glazed side of chicory and some duck gizzards rolled in perfect pastry to resemble a posh sausage roll. To be fair, we were both extremely happy with the trade-off.
For an additional fiver, we shared a tarte au chocolat praline with nougatine ice cream that was sublime enough to make us wish we'd ordered one each.
If you're counting pennies (which we all are), then skip the coffee and drink tap water. Try the sommelier's affordable selection of wine or a glass from the most comprehensive collection of Armagnacs I've ever seen.
Because you're not just paying for the award-winning cuisine of a world-class chef. You're paying for an experience that will make you feel special, and different. And that is priceless. But it doesn't have to be expensive.
Details are correct at the time of publication - please check with venue before booking.
[ 1 ] [ 2 ]
