ENDPAPERS
Chicken a la Mood
By LESLIE ADRIAN 114v caption of the year comes from Malcolm
Newell's Mood and Atmo- sphere in Restaurants (Barrie and Rockliff, 42s.): 'Fig. 51 Tun of Port : play- boys entertaining their mistresses with candlelit bosoms.' We all suspected that the young things were going too far, but of course anything can happen in a ,mood restaurant. Mr. Newell contends that these sophisticated haunts, where eating seems to be secondary to escaping, belonging, relaxing and 'staring at the decor,' have proliferated since the coffee lounge boom of the 'fifties. Certainly the number of eating places that have set themselves up more as act-it-yourself theatres than honest- to-God restaurants has grown to the point where, in London at least, it has become difficult to find comfort, simplicity and a price that fits the private pocket.
I have nothing against the luxury restaurant provided that it and its imitators (whose pro- prietors value the mise-en-scene more than the menu) do not squeeze out all the old and favourite London landmarks where food takes precedence over fantasy. I do not advocate drabness nor discomfort; equally I deprecate pretentiousness, especially where it is the source of elaborate and inappropriate surroundings where it seems as if the cover charge and the prices carried a good dollop of depreciation.
Mr. Newell has some telling phrases, saved up from his years on the Caterer and Hotelkee per. Of the Lyons Tap Grill in Fleet Street : 'dis- creetly ordinary'; the Golden Egg, Swiss Cottage, 'plastic splendour'; Kenco Coffee House, Old Compton Street, 'cramped but pleasant'; Stone's Chop House, 'mustiness and modern comfort.' Mustiness? Michael Inchbald wouldn't like that. The truth seems to be that far too many British caterers (many of them immigrants, too) have failed to compete on the table with their rivals and now find themselves trying to win a trick by playing around with the environment.
While proposing that there is no substitute for good food well presented (supplemented by a fair and intelligent wine list), I second Mr. Newell's belief that the surroundings are impor- tant. But given that they are comfortable, and quiet, one can eat without the trappings of the Middle East, Old Vienna or the South Seas, espe- cially if the setting and the dishes do not match. Mon Plaisir in Monmouth Street could hardly be called comfortable. It is a small crowded bistro, with hard chairs and all the odds and ends on the walls that it has occurred to the patron might amuse his customers if they can read French. It wasn't designed. It evolved. It is never empty, and the menu seldom changes. Similarly, the Kebab and Houmus in Charlotte Street, with Greek peasant cooking in a nondescript setting, has a loyal clientele. Contrast them with Mr. Guy Gluckstein's newly opened Diplomat. This is stylish as well as luxurious. It is expensive but there are more costly places. The food is superb and the wine is not overpriced for such an ambience. But to capture the tone of this newcomer to the London
gastronomic scene, whose mascot is Talleyrand, it is necessary to detail the innumerable little services that are automatically performed for the diner. The disposal of his car; the warm, scented hand towels at the end of the meal; the readiness to decant wine at the table if the diner wishes; the absence of pressure, haste or indifference on the part of the staff.
In short, it's a splendid performance to take part in, seated in Morris Lapidus's stage set and attended upon by acolytes dressed by Nathans. I am not altogether sold on this kind of mood inducement, because I cannot afford to be hypno- tised into thinking that I am a Head of Mission with an ambassadorial expense account. But if you want to hypnotise someone else, this would be the place. Perhaps that is what mood restaur- ants are all about. I recall a French businessman telling me his lunchtime strategy.
'We spend much time upon choosing the first two courses and the wine. We eat them slowly; I drink a little of the wine. I entertain my guest with talk of sport or women (until he begins to entertain me). Then, between the pear and the cheese, pouf!' Right up Talleyrand's diplomatic street.
Business friends have complained to me that they find West London Air Terminal the most inconvenient in Europe, because they cannot drive in and pick up a visitor. They have to drive to an underground park, go up in a lift, take their guest down in the lift, drive out again—and pay. Taxis can pick up passengers, private cars cannot. Whoever designed that scheme must have a stake in the car park.
One hundred and ten years ago this year (and not to be celebrated by wine merchants as Cock- burn Smithes have marked the anniversary of Waterloo with some 1851 port because the 1815 has been long gone) the wines of that region of Bordeaux known as Medoc were graded into five classes. In spite of the urging of one or two ambitious and logical upstarts, the straitjacket of the five crus classes remains and, as numerous wine writers have commented, keeps up the prices of everything from Latour to Lynch-Moussas. But it also distracts attention from the worthy products of the minor châteaux of Medoc, and the bigger wines of St. Emilion, Pomerol and Graves.
The demand for good-quality wine is now so strong that vintages tend to be drunk earlier than they should (when they are at their best), so I feel that it is both a favour and my duty to draw attention to the minor clarets and their imme- diately drinkable qualities. At Morgan Furze's offices in Brick Street recently we were treated to a preview of some 1962s, Châteaux Fourcas- Hostein, Lanessan, Les Ormes de Pez, Siran and Villegeorges, all priced between 13s. 6d. and 15s. 3d. a bottle retail, most of which should keep but which can be drunk soon. In any new league table four of these would have earned promotion.
A St. Emilion worth noting was Ch. Haut- Lavalarde, 1 ls., a little hard yet compared with its cousins Soutard and Fonplegade (15s. 6d, and 15s. 9d.) which will keep but are already fruity and full. In this district 1962 is said to be the best vintage since 1955.
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