“GASTROSCOPY”, LONDON CHAPTER 6: CHILTERN FIREHOUSE The sheer chicanery of Chiltern Firehouse Restaurant calls for a sturdy standing ovation! As I write this, I fear the fingers that might be pointed, reprimanding me for being a bitter gourmet who likes to distinguish herself by disparaging the lofty, the lauded and falsely applauded eating houses across the globe…but I am not. I am simply in search of sensational food! There is indeed sensation at the Firehouse: it is a rigorously refurbished fire station that is presently ‘de rigeur’ for a fashionable dining experience, full of poise, pretension and… pungent perversion: it does not deserve the proprietorship, positioning and public relations of a RESTAURANT! The PR team has perniciously peppered the food publications with stories of signature ‘Crab-Stuffed Donuts’ and the sweet sounds of ‘Chargrilled Iberico Pork’ amongst other deceitful dishes that are a delight in linguistics alone…the food is formidably flawed! The celebrated donut was constituted by an arid dough in the shape of a miniature burger bun that sandwiched an equally thirsty crabmeat stuffing pleading for a dash of butter, hollandaise or Marie rose! Even worse was another rendition of crabmeat in the form of a ‘Spiced Crab Omelette, turmeric, potatoes & chervil’, that deeply offended the palate of one of my fellow diners…the Chef showed a paucity of skill in the use of eastern spice and delivered a dish that scorched the taste-buds, almost beyond repair…but I soldiered on to the next that was the ‘Monkfish Cooked over Pine puffed barley, fennel’…and I ask, is every chef in London a chain-smoker? The aforementioned ‘Chargrilled Iberico Pork, raw and roasted turnips’ was one that threatened tape-worm poisoning: it was served pink, a result of what appeared to be faulty sous-vide cooking, all the precious flavors of pork lost in preparation and the turnip accessory akin to swallowing straw…but the ‘Blackened Salmon Salad, cavolo nero, green apple’ – how hard can that be to get right, or rather, it is a dish that is very hard to get wrong…alas, the chef found it all too easy to disfigure… …As he did with the last, and unquestionably loathsome, dish served, which was a ‘chemical’ pannacotta dessert, disguised as a meringue and served with green apple granite…suffice to say that I would recommend a line of cocaine instead! There was one little dish under the heading of “For the table” that gave us brief respite, but it cannot and must not be revered by any self respecting gourmet…I am embarrassed to announce that it was ‘cornbread fingers, chipotle-maple butter’, my admission of enjoyment one that makes me hang my head in shame, and then in sorrow at the state of cooking in London restaurants. THE END
Posted on: Tue, 29 Jul 2014 10:36:11 +0000
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