The epistle according to St John

Virtuous intent: Tom Pemberton, chef patron of Hereford Road restaurant, W.
10 April 2012

Carafes of water are brought to the tables unasked at Tom Pemberton's restaurant, which has just opened in Hereford Road off Westbourne Grove. It is a sign of virtuous intent as befits the former head chef of St John Bread & Wine, but he wasn't to know how well it sits in the light of that recently much-publicised water menu at Claridges, where prices reach £50 a litre and water miles run into the thousands.

Tom's kitchen is at the front of the premises, previously a butcher's shop, and like Tom Aikens's restaurant Tom's kitchen is decorated floor to ceiling in gleaming white ceramic tiles. Floorboards are bare, wooden tables are innocent of cloths. Down some steps are banquettes upholstered in Americandiner red leather. The lighting scheme contributes to a schoolroom atmosphere as does a table with all its chairs facing a blank indentation in a wall which seems like the table equivalent of the naughty step.

We were not obliged to sit there even though we had showed up a bit early - bookings were being carefully staggered - and without one of our party who had got lost. The staff at Hereford Road are delightful and not at all like prefects. The menu style will be familiar to anyone who has been to St John and its spin-offs such as Anchor & Hope and Great Queen Street. Ingredients are devotedly seasonal, descriptions are brief and to the point. We are in a good season right now. Game is plentiful, squashes abound, wild mushrooms peep out and as for oysters, as the Walrus and Carpenter once noted: "Their coats were brushed/Their faces washed/Their shoes were clean and neat."

Hereford steak tartare is served ready seasoned but for the raw egg yolk nestling in the centre of a neat, small mound. It was good but lacked that kick of Tabasco which deals smartly with rawness. A green bean salad with sorrel and boiled egg sported perfectly cooked beans dressed with a shallot vinaigrette and an oeuf mollet with a soft glowing yolk like a beautiful sunset. Potted crab was a fair mix of brown and white meat seasoned with a judicious amount of mace under a butter lid.

In the main course not everything tried was unassailable. Pot roast saddle of mutton had a strange flavour, a fatty texture unrelieved by the accompanying fennel and spineless salsa verde and just a very drab look. Not so much schoolhouse as workhouse.

The vegetable option homed in on a generous amount of girolles served with beetroot leaves, pumpkin and crème fra"che, but too much lemon juice on the girolles spiked their boskiness. Roasted red-leg partridge served with Savoy cabbage and toast spread with game livers was the winner. For dessert, two of us shared a beauteous meringue topped with whipped cream and gently poached Victoria plums, pretty as a picture - but crunchier.

It was early days at Hereford Road and the strain of 14 services a week seemed to be showing on Tom Pemberton. I dare say the restaurant will in time settle down, relax, soften and become more of a scene and less the epistle of St John to the Notting Hillbillies.

Hereford Road
Hereford Road, London, W2 4AB

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