One Ninety Queensgate
IF THE sort of food which has made Anthony Worrall-Smith famous, those skimpy but elaborate starters and fanciful puddings that made up his self-styled `no inter-course' menu at Ménage a Trois, was seen, by himself at least, as representing the feminine, then he has undergone a sex change for his latest venture. The food at One Ninety Queensgate is resolutely mas- culine — robust ingredients in hefty por- tions designed, in Katie's words, to give a meal man-appeal. Worrall-Smith hit upon his earlier for- mula, he has said, after going out with girlfriends and noticing that, professing to be on a diet, all they ever did was order a starter or two and then weaken when faced with the pudding menu. And he is a man with extremely bankable ideas. Ménage a Trois became one of the biggest success stories of the Eighties and his formula was mimicked with alacrity — and a great deal of rhapsodic elaboration — if without his skill, so that in the last ten years it has become a commonplace to go to a res- taurant where it takes longer to read the description of the dish than it does to eat the dish itself. But fashions change, in food as in anything else, and Worrall-Smith is the man to change them. Or maybe it's just that he goes out with girls with heartier appetites these days.
The first idea behind One Ninety Queensgate was that it should be a dining club for members of the Restaurateurs' Association of Great Britain. This was obviously of only limited appeal, so mem- bership was extended to those in the catering business and `related industries'. It is not clear what exactly these related industries were supposed to be, but it left the field comfortably open to allow mem- bership to be extended to a healthy and profit-giving number. How it has evolved, however, is as a place which operates as a normal restaurant up till 11.30 at night, but is open for chefs and those who are willing to pay a £125 membership fee to come and eat at a discount up till 2 a.m. A clubby atmosphere is extended even to normal diners. One Ninety Queensgate occupies the bottom two floors of an elegant stuccoed house, from which spills a welcoming pool of light, inviting you in through the gleamingly polished corridor to the comfortably padded bar to your right and the dining-room, all distressed paintwork of subtle hue, hung with Matisse prints and richly curtained, downstairs in the admirably unbasementy basement.
I started with chargrilled baby squid with mussels and scallops on a cucumber julien- ne with a saffron sauce. This came as an odoriferous bowlful of saffron-infused, cream-thickened sauce, flavoured with the cooking liquor from the mussels and hints of onion and coriander, dotted with soft- fleshed mussels and striped with tender squid, steeped in olive oil and garlic and punchily aromatic. And next I had to have the stew of stuffed pigs' trotters, sweet- breads and wild mushrooms, the trotters soaked, boned and rolled up, ballotine- like, with sweetbreads and girolles bound with a mousseline of pork, and sliced into an amber-coloured soup thickened with bone marrow and crammed with zeppelin- shaped chunks of winter vegetables.
One of the other starters, breast of duck, marinated in olive oil, chili, ginger, garlic and balsamic vinegar, sliced cold with an accompaniment of celeriac remoulade, french beans and warm potato salad, matched mine for accomplishment — so good, in fact, that I only just managed to snatch one mouthful of it. I make it a rule never to order anything with foie gras in it, although I am not so strict as to stop anyone else from ordering it, so I can — if uneasily — vouch for the pigeon, wrapped in foie gras and savoy cabbage and a lattice-work pastry case, although the pi- geon would have benefited from a few minutes more in the oven.
Puddings are monumental — the smoki- ly bitter chocolate terrine was manageable even after all that had gone before, though the giant-sized tropical fruit gratin proved too much, even of a good thing — and the wine list is as impressive as it is extensive. House wines are £7.25, and there are ten sorts of dessert wine available by the glass. The menu is a set-price affair — two courses for £24, three for £29.50 — and dinner for two when I went, including a superb bottle of velvety St Emilion (at an extravagant £22), came to just over £90.
One Ninety Queensgate: 190 Queen's Gate, London SW7; tel 01-581 5666.
Nigella Lawson
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