In amongst brook Green’s small eateries and huge pubs sits Le Petit Citron, a vibrant wedge of rural south-west France.
Inside, the look is understated, very French: right down to the large windowed frontage and, on closer inspection, probably expensive, distressed mirrors and Tiffany lampshades. Wooden tables are covered by red chequered tablecloths, old food posters adorn the walls. You get the idea.
The menu of solidly hearty Provençal home-cooking matches the rustic ambience. Garlic is both front and centre, with handfuls of tarragon in support. It may not be especially refined stuff but it’s certainly satisfying.
The slow-cooked daub of beef was so melt-in-mouth, it was bordering on gooey. It came with the creamiest mashed potato on the side and the whole lot was topped with a thick carrot that had been braised in orange juice. Equally good was a piece of sea bass, perched over a large helping of tangy aubergine ratatouille.
And while kick-offs of goat’s cheese tart and chicken liver pâté were somewhat ordinary, a cherry frangipane and tart lemon posset were a cut above the norm – so skip the starters and save room for the puds. Oh and here’s a tip: the set menu is a steal.