Morning:
9°c
Flash is a pop-up restaurant that has blinked itself into existence for 80 days only. Located inside the Royal Academy of Arts, it is designed by the architect David Kohn to resemble a particularly fashionable garden centre. Should you be lucky or persistent enough to get a table, before you enter the temporary dining space, you must confront a piece of art in the lobby by a man called Anthony Micallef.
It's a large painting of some grey, emaciated foetuses arranged in a geometric pattern.
I didn't pay it much mind when I entered last week - this is the Royal Academy, after all. But on leaving I wondered if the work wasn't some ironic commentary on the diners who, after three courses, left feeling similarly famished. "At last, I have an inkling of what Bobby Sands must have been going through," I overheard one murmur.
I hardly ever eat out nowadays - it is simply too extravagant an expense. On the rare occasions when I do, I study the menu with insane caution. Is this something I could prepare at home? Would this go with the wine? I am then so conscious of what I am not eating, I may as well be slurping a velouté of my own indecision, biting through a fricassee of regret.
But Flash, from the reviews, sounded such a delightful place to be. The room had a pleasing buzz - and look, there was Turner Prize winner Mark Leckey.
The menu seemed to put the arty into hearty: plenty of root vegetables and roasts with intriguing touches. I opted for "Jerusalem artichoke soup, braised rabbit leg" followed by "Pan-fried pollock, roast peppers, almond and caper quinoa".
It turns out the beauty of Flash is that it's really just another art installation. The dishes look and sound delightful, but have all the substance of ... ooh, a Mark Leckey. My dining companion's trout came with four pieces of the advertised gnocchi, my pollock with a sprinkling of quinoa. The result was a severe lack of sustenance and a feeling of being cheated when I paid the bill (the equivalent of three weekly shops). Why did the very obliging waiting staff not think to suggest a side of potatoes?
This may seem a trivial concern, but it is the difference between coming away resentful or replete. Flash will be closed by 18 January, so it doesn't need to worry about people coming back. But this did remind me why I began to consider eating out an unnecessary expense in the first place. If the most fashionable restaurant in London cannot fulfil its primary function - to feed - then why bother?
