The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - The Telegraph Magazine
Table talk
Michael Deacon goes veggie. Really
IT’S THE MOST SHOCKING thing Morrissey has ever said in an interview. And I don’t make that claim lightly. In the past, after all, the former Smiths frontman has denounced the Chinese as ‘a subspecies’ for their record on animal rights, lamented the failure of the Brighton bombers to kill Margaret Thatcher, and insisted that the Queen ‘wouldn’t hesitate to turn her tanks on the British people’ because she’s ‘the ultimate dictator’. Two months ago, however, he issued his most extraordinary pronouncement yet.
In his entire life, Morrissey declared, he has never eaten an onion.
Never eaten an onion. Seriously. In 58 years on this planet, Morrissey has never eaten an onion. Not a single silvery sliver. His palate, he informed an interviewer, was simply too delicate to countenance a flavour so vulgarly pungent. Not only that, but he never eats mushrooms (‘Oh, they are horrific’), truffles (‘Truffles shock me. And the smell. Ewwww’) or garlic (‘Also horrific’). His diet, in fact, is ‘strictly bread and potatoes… I’m very, very bland, as far as food is concerned.’
Bear in mind: this is someone who has spent the past 35 years urging the public to renounce meat. In other words: Morrissey is a vegetarian who doesn’t like vegetables.
Of course, the great man is free to pursue as tedious a diet as he chooses. By admitting it, though, I’m not sure he’s helping the vegetarian cause. Certainly not when it comes to restau-
rants. Because, in my 18 months of reviewing, I’ve come to suspect something. Most chefs think all vegetarians are like Morrissey.
They must do. It would explain so much. My wife’s a vegetarian, and when we eat out she’s all too used to finding only one vegetarian dish listed under the starters, and only one listed under the mains. And nine times out of 10, both that starter and that main will be almost mockingly unimaginative. Oh look, yet another bog-standard risotto. Oh yes, and another bang-average salad. The chef, quite nakedly, has made next to no effort for her. But then, why would he? She’s a vegetarian, and vegetarians don’t really like food. He knows they don’t. He read an interview with that Morrissey bloke.
Personally, I love meat. As a matter of fact, I once interviewed Morrissey, and spent the whole time fretting that at any moment he would halt mid-sentence, sniff my breath, detect a lingering whiff of the chicken sandwich I’d had for lunch, and sweep from the room in wordless disgust. But, unspeakable carnivore though I am, I do care about the vegetarian options in restaurants, because they’re the best gauge of a chef ’s talent. If he can make vegetables interesting, he must be good.
And it can be done – as this week’s restaurant shows. Ceremony, in London, is a vegetarian place that opened in autumn and has been getting enthusiastic reviews ever since. For meat-eaters, January should be the perfect time to visit, overcome as we are with postchristmas self-loathing, and temporarily determined to be healthier.
I went with my wife. If you didn’t know in advance that Ceremony was vegetarian, you’d guess as soon as you walked in. It’s a spartan little cell of a place, with cramped metal tables and bare walls. Everything looks modest, frugal, nobly self-denying. The napkins are the size and, frankly, texture of a facecloth. The door opens straight on to the street, which for me meant a blast of winter air down my collar every 10 minutes.
Still, the food took my mind off it. To start we had the charred leek rarebit and the crispy duck egg, polenta and wild mushrooms. Both were outstanding, in particular the duck egg, oozing beautifully into the gorgeous polenta. There wasn’t enough of it, but then, if there had been, I might not have liked it so much. It’s like the golden rule of writing a great pop single: make it too short. Never satisfy.
Why anyone would even think to grill a lettuce, I didn’t know… It was lettuce, but hot and black
For my main I had the pappardelle: delicious thick waggly streamers of pasta with Jerusalem artichoke, watercress and salsify (a root vegetable with a mysteriously oyster-like taste). I also had a pair of mildly eccentric sides. First, the grilled baby gem. Why anyone would even think to grill a lettuce, I didn’t know, and having eaten it, I was none the wiser. It was lettuce, but hot and black. I’m afraid I’m more of a ‘cold and green’ man. I also had the orzo, which was good, even if did essentially taste like a cheesy rice pudding.
For dessert I had an actual rice pudding. At least, I think it was a rice pudding. It was black. Not, in this instance, because the chef had grilled it, but because it was made from black rice. I wouldn’t have minded the colour if the taste had been sweeter, but instead it was grimly wholesome – even, somehow, disapproving: I felt as if my dessert were judging me for wishing it had more sugar in. My wife’s fondant brownie was great, though. Order it with a dollop of peanut butter ice cream. They go perfectly.
On the whole, we liked Ceremony a lot. Vegetarian food that, for the most part, a meat-eater can enjoy too. Morrissey would probably hate it, and that’s the highest compliment I can pay.