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Maison François Restaurant St James’s London +

Baby Eats Shellfish

It’s a Saturday between Saturdays, the ordinary time of late winter, the hinge between the great Christian festivals of Christmas and Easter. Duke Street off Piccadilly is best known for aristocratic period art galleries like Moretti but more recent arrivals – if not quite breaking the mould – are stirring the mix. White Cube, a contemporary art gallery, suitably white and appropriately cuboid, opened in 2006 in Mason’s Yard which is tucked behind Duke Street.

Virginia Overton’s new body of work called Paintings is the current exhibition. It’s an exploration of the relationship between architecture, sculpture and painting. A series of low relief wall compositions is assembled from salvaged industrial materials gathered by the artist. Virginia’s reconstructions reflect both artistic legacy and functionalist origin in the space and shape of canvases. She employs line, form and colour to reinterpret Modernist sculptural traditions through the idea of painting. Plenty of food for thought then and then the thought of food. Across the street.

The Honourable François O’Neill was brought up on the 400 hectare country estate of Cleggan Lodge near Broughshane in County Antrim. The house was built as a shooting lodge for nearby Shane’s Castle, the seat of his grandfather’s cousin Raymond Lord O’Neill. On 8 October 1960 Woman’s Mirror ran a feature on the owner of Shane’s Castle. “Raymond Arthur Clanaboy O’Neill, for years one of Britain’s most eligible bachelors, has just about everything a girl could wish for. He is 4th Baron O’Neill, descendant of the Kings of Ireland. He loves parties, jazz and vintage cars, and likes his friends to call him Ray. He owns estates in Ireland and Leicestershire, and runs a garage in Belfast. How he has avoided the clutches of Mayfair’s husband hunting debs and their mothers is a mystery – and an achievement.” Three years later, Raymond would marry Georgina Scott, eldest daughter of Lord George Scott who in turn was the youngest son of John 7th Duke of Buccleuch.

Back to the younger O’Neill. François spent childhood summers with his mother Sylvie’s family on the Côte Sauvage. His father Hugh, 3rd Baron Rathcavan, ran Brasserie St Quentin in South Kensington for decades and when it closed in 2008, François opened Brompton Bar and Grill on the same site and kept that going for six years. New decade, new era, new location, new brasserie. Maison François on Duke Street is now celebrating its fifth birthday.

The host building is another one of the more recent insertions stitched into the historic urban fabric of St James’s. Upper floor reticence contrasts with lively street presence of planting, seating and awnings in front of picture windows. The double height interior is eclectically finished, from a Brutalist cement ceiling to latticed walnut screens inspired by the pews in Gottfried Böhm’s St Mariä Heimsuchung’s 1960s Modernist church in Impekoven. Designer John Whelan suggests, “The client wanted to reference traditional European brasseries but create a contemporary version.” Things are even more industrial chic down under: Frank’s, a basement wine bar, has white painted brick walls and a polished concrete floor. Catchpole and Rye bathrooms are a subtle Irish link.

Head Chef Matt Ryle’s comprehensive menu reflects its all day offering. Le Pain: five choices (with caviar and truffle supplements). Hors d’Oeuvres et Charcuterie: 10. Les Salades et Les Légumes: nine. Les Pâtes: three. Les Poissons et Les Viandes: eight. Fruits de Mer: six. Les desserts: 13. Les glaces: three. Les sorbets: three. La fromage: two. Lunch begins with life enhancing melted cheese canapés that look like tiny County Antrim haystacks. Anchovies, burrata, chilli, pain grillé à l’ail en Français is wonderfully crisp and garlicky. Cornichons are served as a side for everyone’s hors d’oeuvre. Matt was the first Head Chef at Isabel in Mayfair, an outpost of the boujee Buenos Aires restaurant which François helped launch, but Maison François provided the opportunity to make the menu truly his own.

After Philipponnat Champagne, it’s a swap of regions, heading northeast to Alsace for Domaine Heywang Riwerle 2023. Pumpkin, champagnes sauvages, truffe is a deconstruction of the fruit using line, form and colour to reinterpret Modernist sculptural traditions through the idea of dining. Next: the pudding trolley! A double drawered chariot of sweetness! A Wardian case on wheels! Lunch ends with an éclair menthe posing as the maquette of a snow topped Slemish Mountain. François takes the by now well tested template of the London brasserie – think Chris Corbin, Jeremy King, Richard Caring – and infuses it with Franco Northern Irish vivacity and verve.

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Luxury Restaurants

Royal Albert Hall + Aquavit St James’s London

School for Scandi  

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It is a truth universally acknowledged that life is better experienced from inside the box. Especially if said box is the most columned, curtained, cushioned, closeted, contained and catered for one at the Royal Albert Hall. “Anyone for sheep’s milk ricotta and elderberry jelly on potato tuile or sweet garden pea soup with poached quail’s egg and truffle foam?” asks our in-house in-box in-the-know waiter.

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A few days later, suddenly, sharing a waiter with other guests seems rather déclassé, or would be if we weren’t dining in classy Aquavit. Lady Diana Cooper once described Vita Sackville-West as “all aqua, no vita”. Not so this restaurant: aptly named after the Scandinavian spirit, it’s full of life. We’re here, for starters. Not just desserts. A Nordic invader of the New York scene in the 1980s, sweeping up two Michelin stars, it opened an outpost in Tokyo and has now come to Mayfair.

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Shepherd Market is the foodie haven west of Piccadilly. St James’s Market, Aquavit’s address, is a new or at least reinvented Shepherd Market hopeful east of Piccadilly. It’s a discreet location on The Crown Estate, but more luxury restaurants and flagship stores are due to open shortly. “The location is coming,” we’d been told. Cultural additions to this heralded “new culinary hub” include a pavilion opposite Aquavit styled like a cabinet of curiosities. The disembodied voice of Stephen Fry reading an 18th century ballad “The Handsome Butcher of St James’s Market” floats above stacked dioramas.

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In 1989, Country Life reported: “Until quite recently London lacked continental style brasseries. There has always been a wide choice of restaurants but the alternative to an expensive meal has been the ‘greasy spoon’ café, the pub or various questionable ‘takeaways’. Traditionally the City provided dining rooms, now almost extinct, together with a diet of boisterous restaurants such as Sweetings, the catering world’s equivalent of the floor of Lloyds or the Stock Exchange. But greater sophistication was demanded by a new generation keen on modern design, New York and cuisine, as opposed to cooking.”

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That all changed with the arrival of Corbin + King and Richard Caring who have filled Mayfair and beyond with brasseries. Aquavit fits into the higher end of that mould. CEO Philip Hamilton says, “Our aim is to create a relaxed morning to midnight dining experience.” Handy, as we – the Supper Club (Lavender’s Blue plus) – all have Mayfair offices, from Park Lane to Piccadilly Circus. Scandi style has been ripped off so much by hipster hangouts but this is west, not east, London. Pared back lines allow the quality of the materials to shine (literally in some cases) through: marble floors climb up the dado to meet pale timber panelling, softly illuminated by dangling bangles of gold lights.

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The airy double height interior with two walls of windows was designed by Swedish born Martin Brudnizki, the creative force behind Sexy Fish, and showcases works by Scandinavian designers such as Olafur Eliasson. Furnishings are by Svenskt Tenn; photographic art by Andrea Hamilton; silverware by Georg Jensen; uniforms, Ida Sjöstedt. Wallpaper* meets Architectural Digest. We’d been warned that “it’s a bit of a fishbowl” but we’re down with that. See and be seen. Duchamp shirts and Chanel dresses at the ready. This glass box is Nighthawk without the loneliness; The London Eye minus the wobbliness; Windows on the World missing the dizziness. A mezzanine over the bar contains two very private dining rooms named ‘Copenhagen’ and ‘Stockholm’.

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The menu is divided into Smörgåsbord, Starters, Mains, Side Dishes, Desserts. It’s tempting to overindulge on the smörgåsbord – really, a return visit is required for that course alone. So it’s straight onto the starters. Scallops, kohlrabi and lovage (£9.00) in a light citrus dressing demonstrate Nordic cuisine does raw well. Dehydrated beetroots, goat’s cheese sorbet and hazelnuts (£9.00) – we’re getting citrus, nectarine and dill – prove there’s life beyond seafood.

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Sourdough bread and knäckebröd (Swedish rye crisp bread with a hint of aniseed) come with whey butter. “The whey butter is from Glastonbury,” explains our waiter. It’s all singing all dancing. Chillout music is playing in the background. We’re experiencing what the Scandinavians call ‘hygge’, that cosy relaxed feeling you get when being pampered, enjoying the good things in life with great company. All the more reason to sample Hallands Fläder (£4.50), an elderflower aquavit. A continuous flow of sparkling water is (aptly) plentiful and reasonably priced (£2.00). Ruinart (£76.00) keeps our well informed sommelier on her toes.

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Monkfish in Sandefjord Smør (Hollandaise type sauce named after the city) trout roe (£28.00) tastes so fresh it transports us like a fjord escort to the Norwegian coast. Landlubbers be gone! Purple sprouting broccoli and smoked anchovy (£4.00) is a sea salty side grounded by the flowering vegetable. Chestnut spice cake with salted caramel ice (£8.00) is a slice of perfection revealing tones of vanilla and orange. Swedish hazelnut fudge provides a waistline enhancing end to dinner.

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Right now, Aquavit is hotter than Lisbon in July and cooler than the Chanel party in Peckham. And that’s just the beautiful staff. It shares Executive Chef Emma Bengtsson with the New York site and Head Chef is fellow Swede Henrik Ritzén, who previously cooked at The Arts Club in Mayfair. Emma, who is visiting England for a television appearance, believes, “Everyone has their own flavour profile – how they like things. I’m very intrigued with keeping flavours to highlight the produce itself. It’s very pure. The flavours are understandable… You gotta keep trying. Never stop trying.”

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Aquavit isn’t cheap but this is a high end establishment in Mayfair with form. It’s The Telegraph’s How To Spend It territory. After all, the person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good meal, must be intolerably stupid. And as Lady Diana Cooper once quipped, “money is fine”. Blink and you’ll miss daylight but that doesn’t mean January has to be dull or dry. We’re full and full of the joys. It’s not a school night and round the corner in Soho, Quo Vadis isn’t just a restaurant… Time to cut loose under a garish sky.

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Our dedication to reportage ever unabated, is it a dream sequence or the following day do we return for a smörgåsbord of diced and smoked mackerel tartare, sorrel and lumpfish roe (£7.00) in a salad bowl, sitting at a timber table on the polished pavement? Not forgetting the unforgettable Shrimp Skagen (£9.00)? Skagenröra isn’t just prawns on toast, y’know. Named after a Danish fishing port, other essential ingredients are mayonnaise, gräddfil (a bit like soured cream) and some seasoning. Grated horseradish, in this case, adds a bit of spice. Best crowned with orange caviar. It’s Royal Box treatment all over again as we have a dedicated waiter to our table. Or maybe that’s because we are the only alfresco brunchers braving the elements outside the box. By Nordic winter standards, it’s a positively balmy morning. We’ve a love hate relationship with Aquavit. Love here; hate leaving.

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