Marcus Wareing at The Berkeley

Marcus Wareing at the Berkeley Wilton Place, Knightsbridge, London, SW1X 7RL - 0207 235 1200 

Nothing beats being lavished upon by knowing staff and fed by people who make it their mission to over deliver on food. Such meals need not be kept for celebratory occasions. There is nothing more indulgent than celebrating a Tuesday off and treating yourself to a damn good lunch. Especially when humbly priced at £38, for three courses.

A couple of turns round from Hyde Park's most classiest corner, through the gilded revolving doors of the Berkeley and passed the pinky raised afternoon tea drinkers, we were then led to a burgundy room of unassuming decadence. In the centre orchids towered over the diners and speared glass baubles form a decorative abacus wall separating us from the culinary craftsmen. The waiters and sommelier bridge the divide. And do so in an exemplary fashion; silent upon their approach and depositing plates and glasses with a peppering of descriptive knowledge. To accompany the pondering of the menu we were presented with gougères topped with tomato dust. Airy morsels that vanished in a whisper leaving only a momentary tang of tomato freshness.

From the bread basket I opted for the potato and honey which  had a satisfying bounce and well rounded sweetness. Notably the caramelised butter was flawlessly quenelled, anything other than a stroke with the butter knife would be bad form. It tasted as if it had fallen out of dairy heaven,  creamy and nutty. As disclosed by the waiter the perfect balance of creaminess was achieved by adding creme fraiche to the butter, he continued to swoon over the elderly couple beside us, lavishing them with a few more kitchen secrets. 

I have always thought the word sweetbreads to be a fanciful word, conjuring up a food embodying something delicate and otherworldly. From humble offal beginnings this incarnation encased in delicate pasta and reverberating with lemon verbena was every bit how I whimsically imagined it should be. The meat jus heightened the savouriness of the ravioli filling, as did the topping of sea purslane which I like to think of nature's savoury popping candy. Whilst the shards of toasted hazelnuts were a great crunchy contrast to the silken cauliflower cream and sweet cauliflower slithers. The classic combination of smoked fish and soft poached egg is always a pleasure, here the char from the caramelised leeks balanced out the purity of watercress sauce.

Belly pork is my downfall, fork shattering skin, semi molten fat fused loosely to tender meat, I just cannot resist. The two pork squares were flawless and the rest of the dish was hearty yet elegant. The cassouleted beans were rich, the potato foam had every essence of the earthy skin but was free from stodginess, pickled onions added welcome sharpness and a mild creaminess came from the turnip. Where my dish was bold the salmon dish was unassuming until the third mouthful where you then notice perfection in each component. The fish was confited to a blushed coral and skin bubbled to a crisp, quinoa sappy from the beurre blanc and texturally rooted with crunch from the broccoli. Minus the bells and whistles it delivered beyond in taste leaving you with a pleasing bergamot aura.

For me the desert was outstanding. I am not a white chocolate fan but took a pun on this being as far removed from anything I had before. And yes it was, supremely creamy tinged with vanilla. Served whipped to a fluff sitting on a wisp of sponge, ideal for soaking up the melting granita which was so bright and so refreshing you wouldn't want to miss a drop. The orange purée was concentrated and full of zing. Whilst you could have overlooked the two tarragon leaves angled proudly upright as just a nice touch of green. They breathed a faint aniseed flavour that transformed white chocolate and cleansed the palette.

We looked on as other tables continued to extend their meals with cheese boards and another round of drinks, we were ready to ask for the bill and regretfully end our meal of restrained indulgence and then came the petit fours. A double act of house made chocolates, one was 67% Dominican cocoa with a ganache of the chocolate and spring water, the other was milk chocolate with insanely great salt caramel. Right till the last mouthful each plate delivered defiantly and crafted flawlessly. Each table served with nothing short of excellence. I suspected this would be the case since two Michelin stars are not given out willy nilly, it is wonderful to know that a leisurely set lunch is treated with equal importance as a la carte diners.

Number 8

Arzak

Avenida Alcalde Jose Elosegui, 273, 20015 San Sebastian - Donostia, Spain   Telephone:

+34 943278465

This is the third year in which we have embarked on our eating pilgrimage by the way of the San Pelligrino top 50 list, with so many great restaurants in the world and not enough time or disposable cash to do them all in one go we are restraining ourselves and working up the list ticking off one each year. Previously on both trips we found ourselves continually full; in New York we succumbed to the all American classics, delicious things inbetween buns and fried goods and in Paris we clocked up many a cheese and wine pitstop. The thing with San Sebastian was unlike Paris or New York where not one aspect defines their being, this part of Spain is renowned the world over for its food and inability to provide a below mediocre meal. Food is the towns focus; excellent produce, ingenuity in it's use and deeply rooted in upholding this claim, evident from it's streets littered with pinxtos bars to Michelin restaurants nestled around the towns scenic outskirts. It is the only place in the world that is able to claim the most Michelin stars per square foot, of which this year featured in the top ten, making it a mecca for food lovers. 

At the side of a busy dual carriageway lies an inconspicuous pastel coloured house with a swinging sign like an old style coach house. Upon closer inspection the sign reads Arzak. The name of a family who have in occupied and cooked here for generations. Over time the decor has evolved from cosy country to now a minimalist grey scale with divisions of sliding glass, whilst the food echoes the modernity of its surroundings in pioneering techniques and presentation the flavours are very much Basque rooted to the bone. It is Juan Mari who turned the building into something more of a landmark, it has been a base for his investigatory and evolutionary food and where he was the first chef to earn three Michelin stars in Spain. Now standing shoulder to shoulder with his daughter they collaborate creatively in the kitchen and work the dining room,Juan sticking to native speakers and Elena to the many others who travel far and wide. Swapping summers off for kitchen work in her teens Elena has grown up at her fathers heels, she knows the restaurants workings intimately. She is evidently taking the steps towards taking on the baton fully in her stride and is already a force to be reckoned with in her own right especially with being named the worlds best female chef this year.

"Chorizo and Tonic"

"Kabraroka pudding with kataifi"
"Gooseberry with coconut"

"Corn, figs and black pudding"

"Marinated sardines and strawberries"

As we snaked around the ground floor dining room set in slate and white our eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the colourful plates, marigold nuggets surfacing from smoke and dishes that looked like perfectly manicured miniature gardens. We were thankful for almost immediately being handed the a la carte menu but decided on the tasting menu to maximise the amount of different dishes we could try. The options of which were talked over with Elena herself, who appeared almost instantaneously, sharing with us her personal favourites and provided a welcoming prelude to the taste sensations that would follow. Promptly, again, the amuse bouches soon filled up the table, speared with a cocktail stick or dangling from more elaborate contraptions. Such as the scorpion fish twirled in fine kataifi pastry, with its creamy whipped middle and crisp outer coils. The use of unusual savoury and sweet combinations was a central theme throughout the meal, the most glorious I thought was the mini samosa shaped parcel which was marinated in tonic and filled with chorizo, there was a muted heat and intense savoury taste pitched perfectly against gentle sweetness from the wafered watermelon casing and miniature prismed strawberries. The seemingly curious combination of  sardine and sweet strawberry, ended up being faultlessly balanced with a sweet acidity of a treacle like vinegar. A modest cup sweet corn soup was also a joy, creamy and studded with dehydrated kernels, salty black pudding, fig cubes and topped with ribbons of pink rose petals.

" Cromlech with onion, coffee and tea"

"Dusted egg and Mussel"

Through the flurry of ordering through Elena we had forgotten what was coming up next, it was the cromlech with onion, coffee and tea. After a quick google search I discovered that a cromlech is in fact a large stone used in prehistoric architecture, luckily it tasted nothing like its description, the marbled puff was light and hollow tasting slightly cheesy, inside were rich pieces of half molten pieces of creamy foie gras and slithers of caremlised green pepper. Truly indulgent and moreish. Less so was the mussel dish, which was less defined with similar textures throughout the dish, juicy mussel, soft egg and mussel gel merged into one. Visually the dish was more punctuated with varying dusts and irregular shaped garnishes, it was a pity that the flavours of them did not withstand one another and became a little lost.

"Hemp's mustard and lobster served with a side salad of tapioca and citrus"

Food at it's best can bring joy to all senses, a great dish can conjure up pleasure before you even see it let alone eat it, the smell alone stirs up nostalgia and transport you to times gone by. The lobster dish was a definite highlight of the meal, you could smell the sweet smokiness before the dish came to the table and when it did the plate was like summer on a plate. Brilliant vermillion was dotted around tender pieces of lobster, whilst a trio of narsanitum lily pads concealed mayonnaise like mounds of sweet mustard. Lemon hinted through from the narsantium and dressed leaves, cutting pleasantly through the bountiful flavour from the pegs which was extracted from the head then intensified. Altogether it was a playful composition of fresh flavours as well a visual treat. Both of our fish courses had a common sweet versus savoury aspect to them; the sole was paired with red wine croutons which worked texturally and provided a subtle sweetness, whilst my monkfish held its own against the tartness of gooseberry and physalis.

"Sole with curd and wine bread and vegetables"

"Gooseberry, spelt, monkfish, pork fat and physalis"

Gruff yet friendly, was something I had read prior to our meal about the service, which I would completely agree with but would also add prompt. At times a bit too much so,with such landmark meals there should always be an opportunity to linger or feel comfortable in doing so. We had now reached the halfway point and to accompany the meat dishes requested the recommendation of a suitable glass of red at the beginning of the meal, to which the sommelier noted with a grunt and nothing more was said throughout the duration of the first courses. We thought he was maybe going to surprise us at the last minute with a wine that complemented the flavours for both the lamb and pigeon. Instead he failed to notice his cue and after much awkward arm flailing from me, I failed in catching anyone else's attention but thought we better tuck in anyway. Midway a glass of Rielo 2004 unapologetically appeared beside us, altogether disappointing as it did nothing to elevate the richness of our meat dishes if anything its subtlety took away. My lamb dish was accompanied by a colourful troop of cylindrical towers fashioned out of potato and various melons, shredded berry jelly and was shouting out for something to round off its delicate sweet flavours. The pigeon was served with little else but dots of hibiscus purée and a now trade mark side salad, but when cooked expertly sometimes a sauce is all you need, perhaps this too was the thinking behind the sommeliers actions. Atleast with the promptness of the servers you could put it down to over efficiency, but lack of attention to detail is just a shame.

"Lamb with corks"

"Pigeon with anthocyanin, with side pigeon leg and hibiscus and citrus leaf salad"

With a double dose of sweet courses and the obligatory additional side dish, which was an ice cream for each dish, it felt, dare I say excessive. We were on that side of treat which was more like being spoilt, like a child sneaking in sweeties before birthday cake. Positively there were more opportunities to witness the playful use of textures, flavours and presentation. Unfortunately in an anomaly of a dish, style overcame substance, the printed floral plate topped with another glass layer adorned with edible treats managed to turn my frown to a wide agape smile but lacked in flavour direction. The gold printed wafer was just a crunch and ladybird filled with yoghurt was a non descript granular cream. More successful was the Roots, fruits and seeds dish, made up of different guises of complimentary red and green. Despite its bright colouring it remained unassuming, like an oddly coloured version of the kiddie favourite jelly and ice cream. This, however was its grown up seductively wobbly sister; freckled with puffed rice and mint dust, sandwiching the white chocolate coloured with parsley were thin jelly cushions encasing a Campari and maraschino cherry flavoured liquid, which was in fact white port, when popped flooded the plate with a moreish booziness . From the unseen and unexperienced to the familiar winning combination of chocolate and fruit, but spun on its head with the incorporation of fine pineapple custard, kiwi pieces and a green tea like cream which kept the dish balanced and not overcome by chocolate which can often the case. Across the table a mound caramel crusted pistachios sat upon cardamom hinted honeycomb, in a pool of fantastic crimson, they acted harmoniously with the beetroot sauce providing the little encouragement the other elements needed to melt in your mouth.

"The golden footprint and ladybird"

"Roots, fruits and seeds"

"Pistachio and beetroot stone"

"The cocoa forest"

To finish we were presented with an open tool box filled with metallic dusted nuts and bolts with "Workshop Arzak " scrawled on the top. As I took the last intriguing mouthfuls I looked out onto the other tables eyeing up their food presented on light boxes, eagerly awaiting the big reveal under puffs of smoke all with their mega lense cameras zoomed in at the ready, and I wasn't quite taken in by the theatrics. The food was undoubtedly steeped in incredible technical ability, daring use of flavours but I am edging to use the word gimmicky. It was only weeks after, back in London reviewing the photos that I yearned to be surprised again, to be Alice in a strange world and to be filled with wonder. A meal at Arzak's is like delving into the relatively unknown, partly because the names of the dishes are semi lost in translation but also because what is put in front of you isn't quite as it seems, so just go in with the willingness to be taken in by the culinary magic.

"Workshop Arzak - petit fours"