Simple yet brilliant lunch worth the waiting list hype

There’s only one drawback to Bouchon Racine, a small French bistro above a pub in East London: you can’t exactly go there on a whim because within weeks of opening, it had a two-month waiting list. Now, it’s three months. So, be warned and plan ahead. If you’re going to have a short break in London, get on the website and grab your slot.

Why should a simple French bistro be so popular? Well, quite simply, because it’s brilliant. In a metropolis where you can eat any cuisine on the planet and where there are wildly fashionable and eyewateringly expensive restaurants, many of them bloody awful, Bouchon Racine, to use the old cliché, is a breath of fresh air. It takes the instruction of the great French chef, Escoffier, surtout, faîtes simple to heart. ‘Above all, keep it simple.’

That’s exactly what chef Henry Harris, who cut his teeth with the great Simon Hopkinson at Bibendum in the 1990s, did at the original Racine on the Brompton Road in the early years of this century.

It’’s what he has revived here just around the corner from Farringdon Tube station. You approach Bouchon Racine up a steep, narrow flight of stairs beside The Three Compasses, a reassuringly old-fashioned boozer (with great food).

The dining room is small, partly roofed in glass, with walls the colour of clotted cream.

The menu is on a blackboard and the prices – if you’ve been doing much eating out in London – will make you gasp. Because they are deliciously affordable. The same goes for the wine list. There’s crisp linen on the tables, just to add to the perfection.

I don’t use the word lightly. How often can I say that a lunch has been absolutely flawless? Well, that’s what my solo meal amounted to. Perhaps the fact that it was somewhat unexpected added to the pleasure. I had hopped on the Elizabeth Line just to chance my arm by asking for a very early table for a quick lunch. I arrived just before noon and promised I’d be quick.

I was in luck, because these are good people and unlike so many restaurants-of-the-moment, not in any sense up themselves.

I started with a bottle of Vichy Catalan mineral water followed rapidly by a half dozen Louët Feisser oysters (£22) from Carlingford Lough, described by the Carlingford Oyster Company as ‘truly the best of the best’. Served with just a small ramekin of shallot vinegar and a wedge of lemon, they were perfect: rich, thrillingly saline, cool, with a proper mineral tang.

Then there was a pause to wait for my rabbit to finish grilling. This appeared on the menu simply as ‘Rabbit, mustard sauce, smoked bacon’ (£23) and comprised a big meaty leg of French farmed rabbit – quite different from the scrawny but gamey wild Irish ones that I usually eat – cooked to perfection. See... there’s a theme developing, isn’t there? Cooked right through but only just, leaving the meat moist and succulent, with three slices of crisp, smoky bacon as a contrast in both

I’VE RARELY BEEN SO PLEASED TO HAVE HAD THE FORESIGHT TO SKIP BREAKFAST

texture and flavour. More contrast and flavour was provided by a thin, in a good sense, Dijon mustard sauce with just enough pungency. The meat lay on a little bed of crunchy fine green beans, the ideal accompaniment.

A perfect – again! – little salad of bitter leaves was composed of crisp frisée (or curly endive as we more usually call it) and crunchy blanched, pink-flecked leaves of radicchio del

Castelfranco with a just sharp enough and just mustardy enough dressing. An ideal contrast to the richness of rabbit dish.

I was, of course, eating against the clock so when my waiter cleared the main course I asked if I would have time to have the tourte Vaudoise à la crème, as it was now heading rapidly for 1 o’clock.

He returned to say that the next occupants of my table would not roll up until about 1.20pm and to fire ahead. So I did.

My dessert was a little slice of complete decadence or, if you prefer, sheer indulgence. Tourte Vaudoise à la crème (£9.50) comprises buttery pastry, cream, sugar and cinnamon. Baked, of course, and that’s it. It was p… Okay, I’ll change the vocabulary. It was celestial.

A single espresso provided the jump start I needed at this stage.

I have rarely been so pleased to have had the foresight to skip breakfast. This perfect lunch was a happy chance and I certainly wasn’t banking on it.

Indeed, I had Brutto, just around the corner – and once just as much in demand – in my back pocket, so to speak. Of course, The Three Compasses itself, the downstairs pub, carries some of the dishes from Bouchon Racine.

But, in any case, I’m planning my next visit already. This time I’ll be sure to book.