Still on course at Wilton's

10 April 2012

This review was published in May 2002

I have already written about my feelings of despair over the plans to turn the dining room of The Connaught hotel into a Mediterranean restaurant. To the Blackstone company, the new owner of the Savoy Group of hotels, I can only commend the wise observation expressed by Joni Mitchell: "You don't know what you've got till it's gone."

Anyone who feels the same way - Stephen Fry and Simon Hopkinson are two who have gone public on the issue - will be interested to know that young French chef Jerome Ponchelle, who was groomed for eight years by Michel Bourdin to take over at the stoves of The Connaught, and many of the front-of-house staff have moved to WILTON'S, that bastion of fine English dining in Jermyn Street.

So far, apart from Irish stew as a lunchtime dish on the daily-changing list, I could find nothing on the menu that reflected the singular Escoffier-led Anglo-French classicism that Bourdin evolved at The Connaught over his 26-year tenure, but apparently more of that style will gradually appear.

Meanwhile, Wilton's continues to offer prime ingredients which have not been mucked about, plus some daringly modern fish specialities incorporating ingredients like coriander and lemon grass that the nice, uniformed nannies who help wait on tables would probably forgive you for not finishing. And furthermore, Master Fusspot, they will let you have pudding.

Steamed scallops with ginger, lemon grass and a hint of garlic can be found at any Chinese restaurant near where you live, so - eerily presaging the dinner that was served on Monday to the Queen at 10 Downing Street - I went for grilled turbot with hollandaise sauce and new potatoes. Potted crab was the first course. Whitebait followed by mixed grill with mushy peas was my companion's choice.

The potted crab, a deep disc of brown meat compressed with butter scattered with shreds of snowy-white meat, was delicious and the accompanying slices of hot, toasted white bread daintily, faintingly thin. The whitebait lacked sparkle, indeed they were deadbeat. Turbot was a handsome tranche of fish with pearly flesh that, under pressure, spread into graceful, glistening curved slices in that way very fresh turbot will do.

I wouldn't claim that the potatoes were Jersey Royals, as they could have been, but leaf spinach was perfectly cooked with not a bead of moisture on the plate. Mixed grill was present and correct in all its parts. A savoury of Welsh rarebit was suggested to partner what was left of a bottle of red wine and enthusiastically agreed to. Notably fragrant raspberries followed.

A funny thing has happened to the prices at Wilton's. They are as high as ever, but many other distinctly less alluring or well-founded establishments have caught up, making the cocooning comfort and solicitous service well worth seeking out. And now there is the Connaught factor to be added.

RESTAURANT REVIEW: The Connaught

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