contact: info@bownsbest.com
contact: info@bownsbest.com
For some Englishmen the year 1966 is remembered for a football match. For me, its significance is that it saw my first visit to Claridge’s Hotel. Even as a teenager I was excited to be in one of the most famous hotels in the world, the haunt of princes and potentates and - if you like that sort of thing - presidents and prime ministers. As I sat down and ordered the Earl Grey and cucumber sandwiches, I had in mind the story everyone knew about Claridge’s: of the diplomat who telephoned the hotel and asked to speak to “the king” and was asked, “Which one?”. And in my mind was the remark Monsignor Alfred Gilbey had made to me about the Jesuit church in Farm Street: “It was the centre of Mayfair, when Mayfair was Mayfair.” Surely, he had meant Claridge’s?
In those days the full afternoon tea was twelve shillings - 60p in today’s silly money - and it was the most costly in London. The other luxury hotels charged half a guinea (52½p), but Claridge’s always prided itself on being reassuringly just that little bit more expensive. Members of staff then dressed in wonderfully impressive uniforms. Those peacock plumes have now gone, alas! but the tradition of exemplary service survives. And two of the gentlemen who ensure that it does are with me in the photograph: on the left, Mr Martin Ballard M.B.E., once the most renowned concierge in England, now the hotel’s Ambassador, and on the right Mr Andrew Shorten, the engaging Food & Beverage Manager. If you are keen of eye, you will have noted that behind us is a photograph of Sir Winston Churchill, once one of Claridge’s regular patrons.
The hotel can trace its origins back to 1812, although the name derives from the married couple who bought it in the 1850s. In the days of Mr and Mrs Claridge the property was a group of terraced houses. The grandiose pile we see today was built in 1897, with an Art Déco extension added in the 1920s. More recently, the building was extended upwards and downwards in a miraculous feat of engineering which was filmed for the television. In typical Claridge’s style, it was all achieved without the slightest disturbance to those of us lounging in the public rooms and without any unpleasant effects on the hotel’s external appearance.
The restaurant has gone through various incarnations since I first knew it as a straightforward hotel dining room. Famous cooks have come and have gone. One even wanted to make it bow before the great god Vegan, but - mercifully - that was a step too far for Claridge’s. The atmosphere now is that of a luxurious brasserie - which I take it was the intention of the designer Bryan O’Sullivan, who has used mirrored glass, leather and Art Déco details in abundance. There is fine Riedel glassware and - mirabile dictu! - proper tablecloths. Claridge’s has fine paintings everywhere, and here they are in the modern style - by Sean Scully, Guggi and Richard Gorman. The setting is light, bright, spacious and welcoming. The last quality was also much in evidence among the charming members of staff I encountered, one of whom pleased me no end by acceding to my request to turn off the canned music.
Coalin Finn, pictured with your correspondent, is the talented young chef. (The photograph was taken at the end of the meal, hence my somewhat dishevelled appearance.) Late of the Inverlochy Castle in Scotland, Mr Finn now commands a kitchen which sends out tasty dishes for breakfast, lunch and dinner. His menu is full of temptations, all beautifully presented, and a couple of them are pictured. Some I found intriguing, like black truffle crumpet, but all struck me as right for Claridge’s: straightforward, expertly realised and based on fine ingredients. They are also served in generous portions. And, very Claridge’s, if you like your caviar, you can begin with 50g of Beluga for £480.
Not being a caviar boy myself, I started my meal with artichoke agnolotti, with Parmesan cheese, brown butter and shavings of black truffle (£28). The pasta was al dente and the dish very slightly over-salted for my delicate palate, but there was no doubting the intelligence and expertise which had gone into its construction. Then I had the most impressive beef - from Herefordshire, where else? - in the form of sliced rib (£85 for two). This was so full of rich and satisfying flavour, emphasised by its confit of garlic and sauce Bordelaise, that I almost shed a tear for those who deny themselves the pleasures of great meat. I finished with one of those conceits I permit myself from time to time, baked Alaska (£30 for two). It allowed me to indulge in a child-like wonder that ice cream could survive within a case of piping hot meringue. This was a splendid meal.
The wine list is a hefty volume and whizzes around the world to good purpose. Prices for its 725 offerings run from £30 for a red Rhone (2012 Collines Rhodaniennes, Dom Stéphane Ogier, La Rosine) to £7,000 for the 1998 vintage of Pétrus. Other fine clarets include a trio of first-growths from 2000, which would make an intriguing horizontal tasting (Haut Brion - £2,000, Latour - £2,500 and Margaux - £2,800). There are many bottles from California, including 34 versions of pinot noir, up to the 1984 Mayacamas from the Napa Valley (£550). Champagnes abound, of course, and include one of my favourites, the Charles Heidsieck Blanc des Millénaires. Here it is from the 1985 vintage (£950). The last one I drank was the 1988, in Reims, and I can recall vividly its majestic creaminess. Here I tried various wines by the glass. Each was well chosen and was a decent example of its kind. I would recommend particularly a super, vanilla-laden chardonnay from Santa Barbara. I love these big Californian whites: they take no prisoners, but are wonderful at standing up to strongly-flavoured dishes like my agnolotti (Chanin, Los Alamos Vineyard, 2020 - £32, glass).
I find it gratifying to be able to report that the Restaurant at Claridge’s is once again a proper dining room. This famous hotel deserves no less. In 1966 England’s soccer team won the World Cup. In the same year I paid my first visit to Claridge’s. The former passed into football history. The latter began for me a lifelong enchantment with Mayfair’s palace of pleasures.
CLARIDGE’S HOTEL
Brook Street, Mayfair, London W1K 4HR.
Telephone +44 (0)207 629 8860
Fax +44 (0)207 499 2210
Email: info@claridges.co.uk
Open for breakfast, lunch and dinner every day