ENDPAPERS
Table Dote
By LESLIE ADRIAN
IT goes against the tradi-
tional grain, of course, but many more people eat out at Christmas than would earn Aunt Edna's approval. They even leave
home and stay in hotels—
and holiday camps! And usually the deep-seated reason is that they are better fed this way, cos- seted, made comfortable and generally relieved of the burdens of shop- ping, cooking, washing up—and having guests.
Commercial: for a traditional Dickensian Christmas Gravetye Manor near East Grinstead would be ideal (don't reach for the phone, they were booked up a year ago). We had snow, too, which was very picturesque and hellish incon- venient, blocking the roads and pulling down the high-tension cables. But no one suffered; they have an auxiliary generator and a snowplough.
Exemplary, you might say, and you would be right (they have the Gore Hotel cellar list, too— You might just make it for 1966). But of how many places could you say this? I find it heartening that some consumer groups, com- prising by no means the least intelligent and affluent citizens in their locality, are busy spur- ring local hotels and restaurants to greater efforts. Naturally, what the good catering manager needs is encouragement as well as con- stant criticism, but, if he is smart, he knows that the best way to deal with critics is to give them what they want.
The Oxford Consumer Group issued its guide to restaurants last year, classifying them as ex- pensive (then 10s. was the target price for a three-course meal, Mr. Callaghan), middle (6s.) and cheap (under 6s.). These were really 1963 levels, and a 20 per cent adjustment would not be unrealistic. The testers liked the Capri, Queen Street, the Eastgate Hotel, High Street, the Elizabeth in St. Aldates, the Mitre, the Randolph, the Golden Cross in the Cornmarket, the Roe- . buck, the Royal Oxford, the Kings Arms ('on- "'exciting' food) and the Luna Caprese in North Oxford. All 'expensive,' and just about exhaust- ing Oxford's culinary potentialities. I have used most of them and plump like Egon Ronay for the Elizabeth, to which he awards two stars.
Leafing through the new Ronay-British Motor Corporation 1966 Guide to Hotels, Restaurants, Pubs and Inns in Great Britain and Northern Ireland (Four Square. 25s.), hereinafter known as Ronay, I'm afraid I find it as unwieldy as its title. All the old Ronay lists have been com- bined in one lb. slab,' with names in alpha- betical order, so that looking at Oxford you may find the Bear Inn's tie collection (3,476) before you reach somewhere that serves a meal that will, as the old tobacco ads used to say, Please as well as satisfy.
The next edition of Ronay will contain an honours list of restaurants that distinguish on The menus between fresh vegetables (not fresh from the can but Covent Garden) and others. That is a good and commendable move already adopted by David Wolfe is his long, thin restaurant in Kensington. Mr. Ronay's London list is colossal, running into hundreds, all alphabetically listed, the London Steak House, Wimbledon, rubbing shoulders with the London Steak House, Ken- sington. A geographical breakdown might be valuable next time. Meanwhile, the Hampstead Consumer Group (3 Daleham Mews, NW3) have compiled their own list in six areas, de- scriptive only and with no merit marks for quick appreciation. They lean on the Good Food Guide as a second opinion and are by no means merciful in their judgments.
But back to the West End proper and Adrian's personal prejudices. Much as I would like to keep it to myself, the first floor at Bianchi's in Frith Street is a marvellous bargain for Italo- French cuisine. Wheeler's, Old Compton Street, the anchor of the Bernard Walsh chain, is the most reasonable first-class fish restaurant in London. For non-national, off-beat eating I frequent the Chanterelle in Old Brompton Road. For a really French bistro meal, Mon Plaisir in Monmouth Street takes a lot of beating, but you'll have to book. The poor man's White. Tower, the Kebab and Houmous in Charlotte Street, has survived Jean Shrimpton's patronage. George Demetriou has not raised his prices nor lowered his standards. But who cares where I eat? The important thing is, did I eat at any of these places for free? No, and I still liked it.
To my delight, as a devotee of efficiency, several readers have taken me to task over the question of reply-paid order forms with wine lists. Evidently writers are treated too gently and not sent order forms. I have, for instance, been shown a most impressive one from Harvey's of Bristol, reply-paid with the customer's address filled in, and with a Christmas case list attached. And the happy customer adds, 'Harvey's also keep my purchases without charge until I want them, but send me a yearly report on each to say how it is maturing.' That's service.
Previous page
