The Herald - The Herald Magazine
Gordon Ramsay’s come to town with a new restaurant...but is it worth a visit?
IROUND the corner onto St Andrew Square and the first thing I see is a queue snaking across the pavement. No...and I haven’t booked. But hang on, that queue is actually for Wagamama and moments later I’m standing in the foyer of Gordon Ramsay’s new place where a greeter is manipulating a very comprehensive-looking computer screen.
Ooh, she says, very difficult, she says, no booking, she says, but I’ll try and find you a table, sir.
Computers? Sheesh? In the old days she would have just keeked round the corner,
I’ll think later as I’m being led past smoked glass, panelled wood and up a spiral staircase – looking back on quite a few empty tables. But it is definitely buzzy.
“Amazing, sir,” a chirpy waiter will later exclaim when I show no emotion on learning they’ve sold out of chocolate fondant – at 7.30pm – and order the pineapple carpaccio anyway.
“Excellent, sir,” another waiter will say when I plump for tuna tartare to start.
I like the waiting staff in here. They spring about, as you would if Ramsey was your boss, no matter how remotely that may be. They smile, they enthuse, they’re buffed up super-smart and even if they seem to have a lot of tables to cover, there’s always one whizzing past, casting a roving eye over what’s going on in tiny tableland.
The kitchen is fast too. That tartare arriving just as Shazam tells me we’re all listening to and running on Ba;Sen (Pool Party Dub Mix) time... ooh, hey, ooh, hey yadayada.
Banksy-ish posters on the wall, artful dots on the plate glass windows and soft, succulent, surprisingly fresh and spicy hunks of fish. I get a sudden rush of salty, sesame, soy flavours after the peppery boost – strap-in we’re going extremely high on the flavour charts.
There’s a pointlessly small squirt of avocado or two, a silly large dollop of creme fraiche and crunchy wonton crisps, for £11.50 of your Edinburgh pounds, please.
But it’s the tamarind spiced chicken wings, that I also ordered, that I’m most curious about.
Ten whole years ago, when the first Bread Street opened in London, (there are now a good few) restaurant critic Jay Rayner mumped about the price (£8), the portion (5) and said he expected classy Ramsey doing dirty food but got knock off KFC instead. Miaow.
I disagree. That price is now £10.50 (for six), the sauce is still messy-sticky, but the wings themselves are crisp, then moist, the flavours yet again knock-down powerful, tart, sour, sweet, with a coriander sucker punch. Then a spring onion crunch. I like them. Though their lingering aroma will eventually follow me home.
And, anyway, I paid a tenner for chicken wings in this city a few weeks ago in a pretty average steak house. Nothing to see here then. Move on.
Here comes the roasted cod, crushed potatoes, artichoke (£21.50) with another high volume accompaniment; capers, a red wine and lemon sauce. That lemon, wine undertone infuses everything, very deeply. This again, then, is food to make you pay attention.
Saying that the fish looks roasted, clean, flakes properly but there’s something unconvincingly tough about the texture. Hmm. I ordered Koffman’s fries at, ooh, £4.50. They’re floury, crisp and salted, okay, but that thick outer reminds me more of Burger King than fresh chips.
And as for that Ayrshire pork chop? Roasted Braeburn puree? At £18.50 sans mash or fries? Tiny cubes of apple with
mustard mixed through. Again a sweet, sour attention-seeking sensation. The chop looks good, is still moist and the texture correct, but the caramelisation is little more than lip service and there’s not much taste to it.
After all this there’s a cool and refreshing pineapple carpaccio with passion fruit, kiwi and coconut sorbet.
As I head out into the November night I’ll see there’s still a queue for Wagamama but now a new one has developed. Next door. Outside Dishoom. Early days for Bread Street then.