COATES — which opened just over a fortnight ago —
calls itself the 21st century café. And, in fact, this foreign body in London Wall (256 5148) seems just that.
Despite the swelling angularity of the fashionably Fifties-Eighties fittings, you could almost be in the middle of Ridley advertisement-lit world; Coates's designer Tchaik (One Nine Two, Zanzibar) Chas- sey's is altogether more chic, more self- consciously stylish, but the bustle, the — admittedly tailored — commotion is there.
The difference, happily, is that where Bladerunner's 21st century was a dismal land of perpetual drizzle, Tchaik Chassey's gleaming, interior speaks of an optimisti- cally flamboyant Brave New World.
Here is a place made for the detritus of the Big Bang — in all its gruesome detail.
This should put off many. Neither should you come here if you've got a headache, a stutter, horror of crowds or confined spaces, loathing of pop music or a mis- anthropic bent.
Snake your way through the narrow vestibule, past the shop (of which more later) into the multi-layered, multi-faceted, granite, wood (maple and merbau), steel and primrose centre of activities: a bar, strangely resembling a Fifties carpet de- sign; and a teeming, milling, restaurant beyond.
Pop music issues from a video screen and countless electronic orifices, far too loud for even the most uncivilised conversation; cellular telephones will not be worn. But to make up for the disappointment, there is an overhead Telerate screen which gives 'up to the second data on all foreign exchange and bond dealings'. Madonna on one screen, market prices on another. Sad but true.
But I promise you, it is not as bad as all this seems. I saw no money business going on. Capitalists or no, the only thing these people seemed to be caring about was what they were going to eat. There is a daily changing menu (two courses, no choice) for £5, a weekly changing menu (two courses, some choice) for £6.50 and a pared-down but thought-out standing menu. On the £5 lunch ('bar snacks' only in the evening) might be a salad Nicoise (which little resembled the much-copied dish of that name but was nevertheless good), followed by roast guinea fowl and a French leaf salad with a pleasantly astrin- gent dressing, then coffee with homemade shortbread. On a comparable day, for £6.50, you could have a choice of avocado and orange salad with dill and yoghurt dressing (include me out) or a smoked fish platter to start with; next, breast of chicken pan-fried with yellow, green and red pep- pers or poached escalope of salmon with hollandaise sauce and salad, then coffee etc as above.
From the regular menu (four or five of both starters and main courses), pick a spinach, chicory and bacon salad with croutons, or maybe some smoked chicken with avocado. Then I would strongly advise the chopped sirloin with Bearnaise sauce (excellent), or mussels in a cream and white wine 'broth'. Puddings cover the nursery and fancy categories and the cheese (chosen for you) offers a fair selection. My lunch — a glass of cham- pagne, Perrier, three courses and coffee for the two of us — came, with tip, to £26. So really not at all expensive: indeed quite a success story.
In the shop you can buy wine (the place is one of the Corney and Barrow chain), 'breakfast in a briefcase' and other yuppy- marketed delicacies.
Still in the City, Langan's in Mincing Lane (220 7094), although nearly twice as expensive, is worth serious consideration for lunch. The service can be slow, and was particularly bad when I went there with another woman. I don't rate the food particularly highly. It is not bad, but not good either: a handful of new favourites, heavy on the dill (after Volvo and Abba, Sweden's largest contribution to, loosely speaking, civilisation), and light on credi- bility. The monkfish, sole and salmon 'terrine' and Stilton mousse (itself a du- bious exercise) were over-liquidised, the fish soup thin but convincing nevertheless, and the 'medley of sweetbreads', named with irritating pretentiousness, was not all it should have been. However, their hali- but in a lobster sauce was squeaky-fresh — plain food seems best. A great advantage is that you can have anything on the menu grilled. It is a very pleasant place to eat in. Unlike other of Peter Langan's res- taurants, there's none of that cramped oppressiveness. The clicking of briefcases provides background music.
Nigella Lawson
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