Restaurants

By Guy Dimond

Eastside Inn’s fortunes will be inexorably tied to the fortunes of the City. Yet this new, high-profile launch seems to be hedging its bets both ways by opening as fancy fine dining restaurant on one side, but also as a more affordable contemporary bistro, just in case the hoped-for big spenders don’t come.

My first visit was to the former. A central kitchen separates it from the less formal ‘Bistro’, and a dreary little bar at the back of the horseshoe-shaped space forms the holding area for both. The fancy side, which they call the ‘Gastro’, exhibits all the signs of the star-chasing, fine dining restaurant that I’m surprised to see opening this year (Eastside Inn opened eight months behind schedule).

The wine list is mainly French, and populated with expensive Burgundy and Bordeaux as well as a few more affordable bottles. Wine upselling is all part of the game; I asked about a glass of red, and was recommended the most expensive glass on the list (a £12 pinot noir) with no mention of cost. The table settings, cutlery and crockery are all very nice, very expensive. This side has the hushed feel of a job interview waiting room.

Service was slow in the first week. The set menus cost either £45 or £65 per head, and give choices at each course. The £45 menu allowed four of us to try almost everything on the menu.

But first – as is the way with fine dining restaurants – there are nibbles to tide you over until the starters arrive (as they took more than an hour to appear, this wasn’t a bad idea). The highlight of this was a slab of foie gras, cryptically referred to on the menu just as ‘Toulouse’, which melted in the mouth just as it should.

Yet of the actual the starters, only some dishes were hits. We relished the dense flavours of the braised veal sweetbreads, and the delicate foam of a cappuccino covering poached foie gras, which had a hint of coffee and amaretto flavours to it. Less impressive was a steamed slice of eel, with the bones still in; a cockney dish it might be, but this was bland and mushy, and the accompanying fresh peas added colour but little else to the dish.

The main courses were better. Salt marsh lamb was the best of them, served with oddly-textured ricotta gnocchi. Aged rib eye of beef was perfectly tender slivers of rare flesh, served with a ‘ratte mash’ which seemed to be half butter.

Up until this point, the dishes had been mainstream Modern European fare, executed with haute cuisine precision; but we had expected more fireworks and risk-taking. Then the desserts arrived, flouncing in late like tipsy drag queens. Each of the two hollow spheres resembled Christmas tree ornaments, one holding a milk sorbet (the golden orb) and the other cherry and hazelnut (the white ball that looks like a ping pong ball on steroids). Just in case you weren’t already paying enough attention, this latter one is flambéed at the table.

The bistro is less pretentious, a bit noisier, more down to earth, and more fun. Prices are on the high side, but not exorbitant. Service even in the second week was still a muddle. They have nice wines by the glass, and classic French dishes on a brief place mat menu. A little dish of cassoulet was textbook perfect, the sausage, pork and haricot beans topped with a crisp crust of breadcrumbs. A starter of tender baby squid was spiced up with smoked paprika and a lime vinaigrette. Puds, such as crème brûlée, are relatively simple; the presentation equally so.

We can’t really quibble with chef-proprietor Bjorn van der Horst’s cooking, but how many people are prepared to pay £3.25 for a bowl of radishes, or £4.95 for a side dish of ratatouille in a bistro – or indeed pay £70 per head or more for a three-hour dinner in a restaurant which only opens five days a week. Five years ago Eastside Inn might have been on-message, but they’ve picked an unlucky year to cash in on the City.

Time Out London May 2009