In the 80s sitcom The Young Ones, there’s a moment when unhinged student medic Vyvyan becomes apoplectic at the mere mention of twee, wholesome 70s sitcom The Good Life. “It’s all so bloody, bloody nice!” he screams while destroying furniture, and for a long time this is why friends avoided inviting me to Petersham Nurseries in Richmond.
Petersham is a petal-strewn Ikea experience for fragrant, pilates-honed fiftysomethings in search of £895 Poterie Ampholia elephants to complete tasteful, albeit pseudo-colonial-themed water features in their Southwold weekend mansions. Rather than meatballs and Daim bar cake, the cafe serves venison tartare with bean cacao and wood sorrel.
Petersham has been so successful in creating aspirational yearning among those already living heaven upon Earth that it has now annexed a gargantuan chunk of central Covent Garden. It’s a sort of Lebensraum for people who fart nasturtium pollen from all the edible flowers they consume.
Anyway, nowadays the question, “Would you like to go to Petersham Nurseries?” provokes my more mellow answer: “Well, yes, but which part? Shall we peruse the expansive shop for terracotta treasure or buy bespoke, hand-tied peonies at the florist? Shall we sign up for a wreath-making masterclass? Loiter in the delicatessen perusing the artisanal antipasti? Winetaste from Marchesi Mazzei’s favoured bottles in the ‘Cellar’?”
And this is before we’ve even decided on where to eat lunch or dinner: in the posher restaurant serving “slow food” and grand prices or the rather more approachable La Goccia, where a wood-fired pizzetta about as big as a nursery plate costs around £8.
I ate in the latter, after hearing muted responses from the foodie clique about the posh bit. Not terrible responses, as such – just more: “Oh, it’s really fancy”, uttered by people weary of seasonal nettles served earnestly over exquisite casoncelli verde with ricotta di bufala.
La Goccia is certainly more grab some food and go. There’s a brief list of antipasti, which on the day I went featured bruschetta, burrata, salumi, plus a small array of fritti such as courgette, anchovy with sage or Haye Farm chicken with aïoli. There’s lemon sole with bottarga butter on the grill or spatchcocked quail with a spiced turmeric yoghurt. All of the padellas – pasta and rice – come in at around £9 per “small” plate. That day, they featured crab linguine, asparagus risotto and ricotta ravioli, and the small servings really are small. Dr Atkins-style carb portions. I can only assume whoever was dishing out the risotto had seen my arse recently in a string bikini.
What I absolutely did not bargain for, however, was the produce feeling a little loveless. Alarm bells sounded when a plate of dry, unappetising focaccia appeared. Petersham should be churning out exemplary, warm, slightly sticky, oily, crunchy, irresistible focaccia as a calling card. This was more bank holiday Monday Tesco Metro tear-and-share. A handful of courgette fritti appeared, al dente, with the batter not quite right. The Soho House group has been nailing this dish for a decade, serving them plentiful, spindly and crisp. Service was bright, swift and charming, the sun was shining and we were dining on the outdoors terrace, so it felt churlish to quibble that the food, so rhapsodised over by the great and good for so long, was a little slapdash. But it was.
We ordered pizzetta with pistachio, and it saved the entire lunch, because here was a warm, fresh dough smeared thickly with a sea-green, garlic-honking, oily, crunchy pistachio butter. My guest and I paused from discussing all the people we don’t like for a moment: “That,” I said, eyes swivelling, “is one of the greatest things I’ve ever tasted.”
“We should have ordered five of them,” she said.
The rest of lunch sat quietly in the pizzetta’s shadow. Asparagus risotto was fresh, dainty, accomplished and the right balance between green vitality and buttery sluttishness. I’m a fan. Ricotta ravioli, on the other hand, was simply forgettable, but there were only five parcels, so it was a brief encounter. A gorgeous plate of fresh cuore del Vesuvio tomatoes drenched with Zisola olive oil was remarkable. A plate of Haye Farm lamb with salsa verde – which was red, so more like a salsa rossa – tasted of very little, so I’ll chalk that one up for puzzling, too. We ordered the mascarpone semi-freddo. It was pre-made and so much the opposite of semi-freddo, there’s a chance it’s still defrosting now, nine days after we paid and left. My praise feels damnably faint for La Goccia at Petersham. It’s all so bloody “nice”.
• La Goccia at Petersham Nurseries 1 Floral Court, London, WC2, 020-7305 7676. Open all week, noon-midnight. About £30 a head, plus drinks and service
Food 6/10
Atmosphere 7/10
Service 8/10
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