Embraceable You
It’s been described as England’s best restaurant and even the world’s best restaurant.
We enjoy a dash of hyperbole for dramatic effect but we do also get around. Changing address for a moment, we won’t dwell on Simon Bailly’s review of Victor Garvey at The Midland Grand Dining Room, St Pancras Renaissance Hotel London, in the Financial Times, 6 March 2025. “Inarguably the best dining room in London” and “a restaurant so good I reviewed it twice”. Simon raves, “The newly installed American Chef Victor Garvey will make you love modernist cooking again.” Horses for courses and all that but it was the scene of Tomatogate. There was a look of bewilderment on the beleaguered staff when we asked for a vegetarian menu (yes, we had requested one upon booking). So we had tomatoes for starter and tomatoes for main course. Modernism, maybe. Minimalism, definitely. We’ve no beef with Victor and it was genuinely sad to read the restaurant closed five months after opening.
It’s not the first time a writer has got it wrong. Upon the release of George Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue on 12 February 1924, one long forgotten critic derided it as “trite, feeble, conventional, vapid, fussy, futile, lifeless, stale, derivative and inexpressive”. Every other listener then and every listener since has recognised it as a musical masterpiece. We’ve a distinct feeling our next lunch is going to be original, strong, unconventional, engaging, unfussy, purposeful, full of life, fresh, underivative and expressive. Just guessing.
While our natural inclination veers toward coastal grandeur (think Hôtel de Palais Biarritz) or country house glamour (Hartwell House in Bucks) or even elegant grit (Hôtel Meurice Calais) nowhere does rustic chic better than L’Enclume. Throw into the mix lively service (mid course actress poses – Grace Rose York has got the moves) while still delivering that unmistakeable three star Michelin level magic. Our lefthanded fellow guest’s cutlery is discreetly reordered by one observant waiter. The staff know their onions as well as scenic railway journeys: “Settle to Carlisle is the best!” Visits to the acoustic privacy of the bathroom are processional – all that’s missing is a 21 gun salute – and led with authority by a waiter who folds one’s abandoned napkin into a geometrically perfect triangle as sharp as the pointed loo roll end.
L’Enclume (the anvil) is a former forgery so the interior vibe is suitably unchintzy. The knickknackery count is zero. White painted rugged stone walls, black beams, bare wooden tables. Windows frame views of the River Eea edged lawn. Almost everybody – bar us – is super casually dressed. Trainers are for running, shorts for the beach, long sleeved linen shirts for lunching. There’s no piped music, just the clamour of customers which reaches a crescendo after three hours of delicious dining. Our favourite white wine appellation from the bourgeoning bourgeonnement of Twenties Burgundy is the obvious choice of elixir. St Véran Bourcie Martinot 2024 – with more tasting notes than an oral orchestra – best served chilled in London at The Garrick and Cambridge and Oxford Clubs.
Are you ready? Are you ready? Let’s go!
Lunch. Boltardy beetroot, salted mackerel and sunflower seed tart, juices infused with nasturtium. Fritter of smoked eel, lovage and fermented sweetcorn. Corra Linn pudding carmelised in birch sap, stout vinegar, aged Cora Linn. Maldon oyster, pickled rose, fresh curds, horseradish and Cherry Belle radish. Little gem lettuce with fig leaves and fermented vegetables, hen of the woods. Raw Orkney scallop, Ballot kohlrabi, preserved magnolia and calamint. Young Red Baron onions with Doddington, preserved Welsh truffle, onion ashes. Seaweed custard and Aquadulce broad beans, Gairloch langoustine and marjoram. Sweet Belle turnips with cuttlefish, unripe strawberries, anise hyssop. West Coast monkfish and Sugar Snax carrots, salted roe and blackcurrant leaves. Cornish John Dory, grilled and glazed over binchotan, New Zealand spinach, ramson, black apple. Frozen Tunworth cheese, malt crumb, Champagne rhubarb and lemon thyme. Malwina strawberry with lemon verbena, Wraysholme yoghurt, sweet herbs, flowers. Anvil: caramel mousse, L’Enclume miso, apple and spruce. Marigold, woodruff, tart, mint stones.
The Anvil is no doubt the climax course but there are plenty of breathless highs along the way. We’re on the Orkney scallop diet – whether chinooked down to Chewton Glen Hotel (Hampshire) or yachted straight to 81 Beach Street Deal (Kent). Marjoram is having a fashion moment. Doddington cheese is pure farmyard flavour – and smell. We love instructions for eating and heartily obey the “One bite!” tart order of sunflower seed, Cornish mackerel and fresh flowers. This is 1.8 hectare farm to fork at its fittest. And not a tomato in sight. Hopefully our traipse from the car abandoned in Croftside Field – a country kilometre to the north of the pretty village of Cartmel – has preemptively burned a few calories. We adore L’Enclume in all its ground floor glory but is it the best restaurant in the world? Well, we opened the year in the sun drenched first floor Zijin Mansion then snuck across Jinju Hutong the following day to the softly lit subterranean Jing. Beijing’s best. High bars. Getting around. To be continued.
L’Enclume goody box is spiced ginger cake. Definitely the best spiced ginger cake in the world.
