» Food&Drink
Andrew Kay heads for the bright lights and picks up a big bird at The Ivy
Easter monday was perhaps not a great date to choose to go to a top London restaurant. The city was awash with kids in holiday mood and those on a spree with their wealthy parents seemed to have gathered at The Ivy.
Yes, The Ivy, the home of the luvvie if you are to believe the tabloids – but in my book it is home to some pretty damned fine cooking.
I have no problem with children in restaurants; they need to experience dining out and learn how to behave, and I have to say that the posh sprogs behave with manners and charm.
The Ivy is a grown-up affair and the menu reflects that. There are very few fashion dishes to be had but plenty of classics, both robust and dainty.
The occasion was not momentous: Mr L and I had just seen a matinee of Cheek by Jowl’s Macbeth. It was never going to be an easy play, but they did bring a certain pace to the thing and visually it was a treat. After two hours battling with the Bard a decent supper was in order.
Mr L had booked our table at 7pm and we would have to be vacated by 9pm. It’s a common thing these days, but they did rather over-emphasise this at every point up until us arriving at the restaurant. Then all was forgotten, a good thing really as we had to wait 20 minutes at the bar. Still, a stiff G&T eased the pain.
Once at our seats we perused the menu, a simple card affair with everything on the one page. It was a token gesture as Mr L and I had looked online – a far more complex read I might add – and spotted a chicken dish for two. Well, it simply had to be tried.
“Prices were much the same as a good restaurant anywhere and far better value than places that charge less but do
it badly”
Roast poulet (for two) with foie gras stuffing, pommes sarladaise and a truffle jus lands at £44. Where do I start? Well, it arrives under a cloche and is carved at the table, a breast each, and then the stuffed leg and thigh. I really wanted the carcass to make soup but it seemed out of place. The chicken was running with juices, much of which I suspect was butter. The skin was crisp, the stuffing surprisingly light, and the truffle jus earthy and sticky. With a few veg it would easily have served four. Sarladaise potatoes are a rich caramelised affair with a crusty top and they simply oozed goodness in the form of more butter and fat from some fowl – duck or goose maybe. Whatever it was it was divine, and I really didn’t want it to ever end. There was also a bit of watercress hanging around but not enough to merit comment. At £22 each it was not the cheapest roast chicken I have ever had but I would put my hand up and say it was the best, and I would do it again now if I were closer and had the cash to hand.
We did have hors d’ouvres, Mr L white asparagus with a poached duck egg and a chervil vinaigrette. I had the steak tartare, which was surprisingly large and pleasantly piquant. This, perhaps, from a rather large and surprising amount of ketchup in the mix. It was a first for me, and I admit it tasted good, if a little sweet. I think I prefer it without, and I did miss the old fashioned raw egg yolk on top, but it was good none the less.
We failed at the pudding hurdle, simply too full of savoury delights and a brace of bottles of pinot noir which made the whole event go with a swing.
So did we see any stars? Well, indeed we did, we saw a very starry chicken dish and we took it to our hearts, quite literally I suspect. The Ivy has a fantastic kitchen and a real buzz, and although not for the faint of wallet, I thought the prices were pretty much the same as a good restaurant anywhere and far better value than places that charge less but do it badly. Oh, by the way, we stayed well past our alloted time and no-one seemed much bothered.
I’m really very hungry now!
The Ivy, 1–5 West Street, London WC2H 9NQ, 020 7836 4751,
www.the-ivy.co.uk
