The Library; The Waterfront
A SUBTERRANEAN ERRANEAN restaurant, The Library (115 Mount Street, London W1, telephone: 499 1745, open for lunch and dinner Monday to Friday), is situated practically next door to Farm Street Church (Mount Street entrance) and be- neath the excellent butcher, Allen. It's well placed, I should say. You descend by an outside stairway covered by one of those canopies to a fairly small, rather dark room with a bar at one end. The rest of the area is taken up with the tables which, for the size of the place, are quite well spaced. The owner is Lebanese, George Ze'eny and he was recommended by our own Lebanon hero Charles Glass.
I took Milo Parmoor, who runs that quaint little bookshop Bernard Quaritch where you can get such things as Guten- berg Bibles for the odd million or so. We sat down for a drink in the minuscule bar-sofa corner, but were immediately whisked away to our table next to the kitchen in the otherwise empty restaurant. We were hardly given time to peruse the menu or drink the drinks when advanced upon by the head waiter to be given one of those 'this evening we 'ave' litanies.
There was a large bowl of salad on a pillar in the middle of the room, which turned out to be something called fattoush, different kinds of salad leaves and grilled croutons of Arabic bread, dressed with olive oil and lemon, seasoned with sumac spice. Milo had a great plate of this to start with and was well pleased with it. I had some very good scallops.
There was a Mexican chicken dish on offer, also a seafood fiesta in puff pastry with a chablis sauce and a smuggler's steak, which is fillet of beef flamed in brandy then served in a cream and sherry sauce, but Milo went for a plain grilled sole off the bone, which was perfectly cooked, and I had a rather exciting parcel of sea trout and broccoli wrapped in filo pastry with a champagne sauce. A very generous parcel it was, and quite excellent. We had some simple boiled potatoes which turned out to cost £5 on the bill. Zowee!
The waiter then approached the table with the dessert trolley upon which was a bronze naked lady, like the little mermaid in Denmark. 'This is Claudia', he intoned, 'and she would like to offer you . . . [whatever there was on the trolley].' A very unusual performance I reckoned, and slightly disturbing. However Milo chose a white and brown chocolate mousse, which had been left out of the refrigerator too long and was getting slimy, and I had a good piece of cheddar from a pathetic cheeseboard (camembert in wrapped triangles).
With coffee, a bottle of Perrier water, which was put out of arm's reach, and a half decanter of the house wine, a Vieille Chapelle which was good, the bill came to a staggering £74.30, including covers and service charge. The lavatory was occupied by a member of the staff when I tried to use it. Curious?
There is another new restaurant in Chelsea Harbour, The Waterfront (Har- bour Yard, Chelsea Harbour, London SW10, telephone 352 4562/4602/4619, open every day for lunch and dinner). I read in the Saturday Times that the Venetian chef, Ettore Alzetta, would like to do away with salt and pepper at the table, as he takes pains to season dishes correctly before they leave the kitchen. Well, he is over-zealous; my spaghetti alle vongole was so salted I had to drink water all afternoon.
I went for lunch on a Saturday with Matthew Dixon, who must be the best looking 77-year-old around; he cleans car- pets amongst other things. We had a nice big table by the windows and started with my oversalted vongole and a plate of splendid oysters for M. There are all the usual Italian first courses, including an asparagus risotto, which I was tempted by, but it was for two. I hope and bet that it might be very good. They specialise in fish, though there are about five meat or fowl dishes, and liver, of course. Matthew chose halibut ai broccoli which was a magnificent piece of that great fish, covered in a butter sauce with the addition of puréed broccoli, very nice to behold as well as to eat. I had a great peasant dish of squid in a tomato sauce with grilled slices of polenta, what I would call tough but tasty. The tentacles were the best part. It was an enormous helping, I couldn't eat it all, but managed a well dressed salad.
Two cups of excellent espresso coffee seemed to be free of charge and the bill with one drink and a bottle of the house wine, Cantina Tollo, Montepulciano D'Abruzzo (fairly rough) came to £44.04.
Jennifer Paterson
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