When you visit a brand new restaurant in its early days a glance around the dining room will often reveal a great deal about the place. Last week while lunching at Angelus our fellow diners included the man behind one of London’s most successful restaurant groups; an iconic French chef; the maitre d’ from a Michelin starred establishment; and a restaurant critic from one of the glossies. Bear in mind that Angelus has been open for a few weeks now and the initial rush of hungry critics eager to be first over the threshold has abated - almost everyone who is anyone has already been.

Angelus is unusual in that it is a restaurant led by the front of house – the redoubtable Thierry Tomasin formerly at Aubergine and formerly, formerly, a sommelier at Le Gavroche. Tomasin had always intended to set up his own place and on several occasions has insisted that he wanted a “Chef from France” his view being that cheffy London has become rather predictable. He went on to bring over Olivier Duret and even by reading the menu at Angelus you could tell that this restaurant has Modern French aspirations.

The “signature” starter is a foie gras crème brulée with toasted pain au levain, this is a strange dish with the creamy, livery, base topped with a crisp crust of sugar and poppy seeds. For me the sweetness of the crisp topping did not work with the unctuous filling and the richness of the foie gras cried out for something sharp or tangy to set it off. Starters like the duck terrine are much more accomplished – classical, well-made and enlivened by a “sesame gomasio” something crisp and savoury for balance.

Main courses range from sea bream with sesame seeds and cous cous; to a delicious Anjou pigeon roast with salsify and bacon; yellow Pollock with a chorizo crust; and perhaps the most impressive dish - the “tourte de lapin et foie gras au vieux Porto, salade de mesclun”. A rustic rabbit pie, with admirably short crust pastry and a filling of rabbit and spinach lubricated with foie gras…very delicious indeed. Puds are agreeably French poached pears; Guanara chocolate tart; a chocolate and praline “cocktail”.

Despite its location to the north of Hyde Park there is something pleasantly French about Angelus. The service has an agreeably formal feel to it, the standard of cooking is high and the prices are not over-grasping (starters £6 to £9; mains £14 to £19; puds £7 to £10).  It is also home to a formidable rabbit pie.

Charles Campion

Angelus, 4 Bathurst Street, W2 (020 7402 0083)

By a rare fluke of fate, (or rather due to my judging responsibilities for Restaurant Magazine’s Front of House Awards) I recently had the pleasure of dining at Bacchus and then visiting the Fat Duck for lunch on the following day. It was a great opportunity to see whether the “school of Blumenthal” was indeed a philosophy rather than a band wagon. I have a sneaking suspicion that Heston must cringe when phrases like “Molecular Gastronomy” are bandied about and when careless food writers link his name to any culinary initiative that’s remotely cerebral or avant garde, particularly in the provinces. Do you remember when Nouvelle Cuisine was brought to its knees by the half-baked attempts of chefs keen to copy what had started out as a manifesto of sound culinary principles? In the twinkling of an eye it went from being “the next big thing”, to a single sprout paired with a solo strawberry on a sauce splattered plate. Now Nouvelle Cuisine has become shorthand for “unacceptably small portions”.

At Bacchus, which is to be found on a roughty-toughty stretch of Hoxton Street, chef proprietor Nuno Mendes is keen to emphasise that “we dabble with modern and old cooking techniques to create a very casual ‘fine dining’ atmosphere… the food is a very personal reflection of my travels and work with many talented, passionate and beautiful people…” This place looks like a gastropub, service is friendly and the food is very complicated. Mendes is a good cook and is particularly adept at combining textures – he seems to have a bit of thing for crumbs. On the eight course tasting menu several dishes have a gritty, crunchy, flavour element. There’s a rosemary gomasio with the tuna toast – sesame crunch; there are coral crumbs with the yuzu crab; and there’s black olive migas with the confit potatoes and cepes. You’ll also find powders, papers, foams and jellies. The flavours are good and (unusually for a lengthy tasting menu) the dishes seem to get better and better as you work your  way down the list. By the time you get to “crispy suckling pig, fresh and dried figs with their caramel, Iberico ham, marscapone cubes, almond basil powders” things are really singing. But even a starter like “Yuzu crab, tobiko, herbal broth, lemon grass gelée, baby shitake, coral crumbs” is a real mouthful, the long list of ingredients does the dish no favours. It sounds over-facing and over-complicated, but when it arrives the flavours work well together. If I were Mr Mendes I would re-write the menu and aim to say about half as much about each dish

Which is pretty much what Heston Blumenthal does at the Fat Duck. A dish of roast scallop comes with “scallop tartare, white chocolate and caviar”; a pot roast loin of pork comes with a “gratin of truffled macaroni”. These dishes are no less complex or considered than their counterparts at Bacchus but they read a whole lot more comfortably. Like Bacchus the Fat Duck was once a pub, but unlike the Hoxton restaurant, as the Fat Duck has climbed to the pinnacle of the Michelin rankings it has taken on the mantle (or rather white linen tablecloths) of fine dining. Which is an interesting observation – the two restaurants may differ when it comes to ambience but when it comes to prices they are not so far apart: £80 buys you the Tasting Menu at Bacchus or an à la Carte meal at the Quack.

Bacchus is worth watching, the cooking is to a high standard and the menu shows a real flair with flavour combinations. The Fat Duck has preserved the theatre of dining out with some splendid flights of fancy underpinned by notably good cooking. But whether in Hoxton or Bray you don’t need to understand the meaning of molecular gastronomy to have a really good time.

Charles Campion

Bacchus, 177 Hoxton Street, N1 (020 7613 0477)

The Fat Duck, High Street, Bray, Berkshire (01628 580333)

On the face of it  replacing an elderly (and past its best) Covent Garden Italian Trat with a new Spanish “Restaurant and Vinateria” sounds like a rather good idea. As the theatre crowds slug it out with the stag parties for a foothold in the bars any interesting new restaurant must be a force for good. Oops has picked up a few warm reviews for its tapas but remains something of an enigma. For openers this is a Spanish, tapas restaurant that doesn’t have a single sherry on its wine list… What’s all that about? It’s a sure fire bet that whatever cuisine offered most of the other restaurants on Catherine Street can provide a chilled glass of something in the sherry line, so this omission is very odd indeed. Apart from those blank pages the wine list at Oops is sound with some drinkable stuff priced at around £20 and more ambitious bottles ranging up to the £80s.

The service is very patchy with the waiters giving every impression that they have never seen the menu before and that they have no idea what the dishes are. The food arrives briskly, perhaps a touch too briskly. Highlights were the “almejas al vino blanco” – a dish of clams cooked moules fashion; and the “morcilla con cebolla y pinones” which was a dish of blood sausage stewed with a large quantity of onions. Apart from these two exceptions there were a few disappointments: “pincho de cordero” was well spiced, the lamb was tender but it came to table cold rather than fresh off the grill.  The classic “patatas bravas” was nowhere near bravas enough and again it came to table at room temperature. The tortillas were fine but again lukewarm – not on the same planet as the delicious small tortillas made to order at Barrafina.

Listed under postres, and nestling among the usual suspects, were two ice creams “helado de higos” a rather good fig concoction and “helado de queso azul” – blue cheese ice cream. In the 1890’s Agnes Marshall impressed the culinary world with her Stilton ice cream, and tasting this Spanish variant you can see why. The creamy, salty, tangy, cold combination was wholly successful.

Oops is a strange place, somehow you feel that it is on the verge of being good. They need some sherry; a crash course in the finer points of friendly and efficient service; and a wake up call in the kitchen. Then, gradually, the silly name will seem more light hearted and less of a description.

Oops, 31 Catherine Street, WC2 (020 7836 3609)

Barrafina, 54 frith Street, W1 (020 7813 8016)

Charles Campion

What a jolly affair!  On Wednesday 5 September we finally launched the book, “Charles Campion’s Guide to London Restaurants 2008”, the party was fuelled by Tio Pepe and slivered black foot ham. There were canapes from Café Spice Namaste and the Blueprint Café, oysters from Wright Brothers and the view from the top floor of the Greater London Assembly was breathtaking. This year’s book is bigger and better than ever – there are over 400 reviews and getting on for 90 new listings plus a whole new section to take care of the amazing surge in restaurant numbers around Kings Cross.

It just remains to start the work for next year’s guide – incidentally any information is gratefully received – mistakes in the current guide, (to be corrected in re-prints); suggestions for additions; suggestions for deletions; news of openings. Either post suggestions here or contact me direct on charles@charlescampion.com

To buy the book from Amazon use this link   

Charles Campion 2008 Restaurant Guide.