Restaurants

By Guy Dimond

‘There’s something terribly romantic about train stations,’ said my dinner date, as a waiter walked past bearing a tray of Champagne glasses. It might have been more accurate to say ‘There is something terribly romantic about St Pancras train station,’ because the coffee bar at Clapham Junction doesn’t do it for me. The stunning £800 million restoration of the St Pancras is a marvel. It’s also something the whoppingly expensive Searcys 1847 Champagne Bar has capitalised on by plonking itself in the prime spot where this restaurant by rights should be. But the Champagne Bar does at least set the tone for the Upper Concourse, which is far more Eurostar chic than Hertfordshire commuter.

St Pancras is also the cleanest railway station outside of Switzerland, spick-and-span enough to eat off the floors. There’s no need to do that though when the spanking- new St Pancras Grand restaurant occupies one side of the Upper Concourse. It’s a beauty which has clearly been inspired by the Oyster Bar in Grand Central Station in New York, mixed up with Continental grand brasserie flourishes. The vaulted ceilings are gilded with dutch metal; engraved grass partitions divide the leather banquettes; mirrors line the walls. The bar at one end is evocative of Manet’s ‘A Bar at the Folies-Bergère’, an impression enhanced by the classic staff uniforms of trim black waistcoats. If I didn’t know better I’d have guessed Terence Conran was behind such as classic look, but no, Tel has hung up his drawing board and apron for now.

The Grand is a prestige project for Searcys, who have recruited chef Billy Reid, whose previous restaurants have held Michelin stars. They’ve also called in the Evening Standard’s most famous restaurant critic, Fay Maschler, as a consultant. The result is a post-St John, Hix-like menu designed to appeal to critics, gastronomes and everyman.
Rediscovering British dishes is the culinary trend du jour, but this menu reaches back further than most. We skipped the Constance Spry salad with salad cream – too motorway service station for us – and went straight for the ‘braised beef ribs with 17th-century spices’. The wide, wonky ribs were laid flat like old floorboards, supporting supporting tender, slow-cooked beef that slid off the bone. The spicing was very timid though – maybe this is what they meant by them being 17th-century. (Maybe it’s time they bought some new ones.)
The chunks of finnan haddock would make an Aberdeenshire fishwife proud, the flesh gently smoked and not too salty, presented with crushed potatoes, a perfectly poached egg on top and pretty a dressing of grain mustard butter and herb-green olive oil. A starter of roasted beetroot with goat’s cheese and watercress was another simple dish, done well.

Desserts include all the trifles, syllabubs, apple crumbles and rice pudding you might expect from a historically-themed British menu, but also a baked custard tart that would make any Dutchman (or South African) weep into his melktert. It was a perfectly even texture, with subtle spicing and crumbly pastry. A thin strip of Garibaldi biscuit garnished the dish, the currant studding the pastry like a novelty hairclip from Claire’s Accessories. ‘Very romantic,’ said my date, distracting me while stealing the butterscotch.

Time Out London Sept 25 - October 1 2008