Review at a glance: ★★★★★
Since the tragic demise of Henry Harris’s sublime Racine some years ago — and despite his triumphant return with Bouchon Racine in Farringdon a couple of years ago — South Kensington has for me been something of a gastronomic wasteland. Most of the restaurants that I really enjoy are scattered to the four corners of London or in the impenetrable maze of Soho. None are within walking distance of where we live, so I was intrigued to hear that The Lavery was opening its doors in South Ken. It is a short hop and an appetite-inducing skip across the park from us, and for those with inquiring minds, it is conveniently close to the Natural History Museum.
The former home and studio of artist Sir John Lavery, the first floor of this townhouse is a large, white, beautifully proportioned and airy room with generous amounts of ornate plasterwork and its original fireplace still in situ. It is simply but appropriately furnished. The whole thing speaks of quiet, restrained glamour.
The creative vision and team have been conjured up by Martin Cohen, the man who launched Rochelle Canteen. The kitchen is in the very able hands of chef Yohei Furuhashi, who was for nine years at the River Café, later Toklas. Importantly, front of house is the much-loved Alcides Gauto. He too has travelled from Toklas. The Lavery’s food is clearly influenced by its teams’ experiences at Rochelle, River and Petersham, and its rules and delivery are similar to those august institutions.
The menu is entirely its own, and is difficult to choose from, since most of the dishes look tempting. To start we had the salt cod and Iberiko tomatoes with polenta. The tomatoes were the stuff that dreams are made of, full of flavour, perfectly ripe and utterly delicious. This is a testament to thoughtfully chosen and sourced ingredients, which make a dish either blah or sublime.
The Tuscan salami with homemade pickles was again totally authentic, with the flavour and scent of an Italian farmhouse lingering seductively on each juicy slice of the meat — and the image of some beefy-armed nonna at work is definitely present while tucking in to this dish.
After that came asparagus with a very thin sauce. Often the case that these delicate, verdant spears of spring’s promise are mistreated and boiled into submission. Not the case here: due reverence was paid and the result was joyful perfection.
Next we had Isle of Skye scallop with cime di rapa and tomato and cedro, the huge Italian citrus fruit. Again one has to spare a thought for how and where the scallop has been sourced. They must be always be fresh, since they have to be dived for individually from a frozen sea by strapping young fellows. With that in mind, the chef is required to cook, and the customer required to consume, with the reverence due. We did and enjoyed it.
The sort of dish that comes back and tickles your tastebuds in the middle of the night
I am not normally a fan of tortelli, finding it a doughy mouthful. My prejudice has now vanished, gone, flown away. The nettle tortelli stuffed with ricotta with cultured butter and pine nuts was the star of the show, the pasta as light as a feather and the flavour of the nettle absolutely and miraculously in evidence. It is worth going to The Lavery for this alone, the sort of dish that comes back and tickles your tastebuds in the middle of the night.
And finally to puddings. First came the pomelo and passion fruit Lavery Mess, and then the chocolate mousse with Agen prune. These were again as delicious as all the other dishes but containing a sort of forbidden, dirty sexiness (especially the mousse) that only really good desserts do.
There is something utterly naughty and out of order in the act of crushing meringue up with cream and passion fruit, or digging around in a thousand-calorie piece of chocolate delight that is teamed up with a drunken prune. The frustration of choosing only some dishes on the menu is real, so I will certainly be back to try the rest.
David Ellis is away
The Lavery, 4-5 Cromwell Place, SW7
