I HAVE always avoided Leith's — fiercely resisted it. The
trouble all started a couple of Christmases ago when I had a lot of fun at Miss Leith's expense over a book she had written called, with some gall, Enter- taining with Style. In this book, Prue Leith and her co-author Polly Tyrer, exhorted their readers to behave in a way that would seem excessive even in a particularly de- mented Mike Leigh character. Highlights from the book include a 'Surrealist Dinner for Eight' (central table arrangement: twigs hanging with your and your family's watches), a 'Punk Party for Forty' (decor based around the 'safety-pin or zip motif • . . and the uninhibited use of a spray gun') and 'Bistro Night for Twenty', in which you fill your house with little tables draped in red and white gingham, hang strings of onions on the wall together with a blackboard chalked up with the menu Of your French is shaky use a dictionary to avoid the mockery of your friends') and leave Gauloises or Gitanes dotted about the room.
When I was at school this was the sort of thing those of use who did Domestic Science (later to become Home Econo- mics) 0 level were required to do. I remember one exam question which de- manded a 'hearty dinner for your husband and two sons who have returned from a hiking holiday'. You, the examinee-as- little-woman, were supposed to dish up some wholesome, carrot-infested stew us- ing hiking boots and all but the judicious placing of clods of earth as table decora- tion.
So, fearing that Prue Leith's restaurant (92 Kensington Park Road, London W11. Tel: 01-229 4481) would follow like lines I was not keen to try it out. Although she had taken my remarks in good part, I was worried — should I not like Leith's, which at that stage seemed probable — that she might start thinking I was staging a vendet- ta against her. But, armed with the notion that you can't go that far wrong if you tell the truth (and I can't think where I got that idea from) I decided' to go. Virtue was rewarded: I liked it.
Leith's is situated about halfway down one of thoSe swooping Notting Hill Gate streets. Its windows, out of which spill a syrupy, golden glow of affluence, look more as if they belong to a private house than to a restaurant. Inside, it's rather like being on an Antonioni set. The blue- flecked cloth walls look white in some lights, Iilac in others. The banquettes and chairs on castors look straight 'out of the sixties despite upholstery which looks as if it has been inspired by BR (for whom Miss Leith used to cater). The room is well-lit, the tables well-spaced and the atmosphere well-padded and airy. Background noise is provided by the tread of elegantly laden trolley, the scrape of good cutlery against china and the mostly transatlantic tones of your fellow-diners. There is a quarterly set menu (two courses £26, three courses £32.50 and four for £36, coffee, service and VAT included) which offers grown-up food influenced by current fashions, though not gratuitously so. We are about halfway through the autumn menu now, from which we had the wonderfully briney spinach and mussel soup and the dangerously tempting hors d'oeuvres from the trolley. The trouble with these is that you are likely to fill up too much before the main course as you plough your way through chive-sprinkled quails' eggs with duck liver (a brilliant innovation — though not for the liverish), tomato and mozzarella, lambs' tongues in raspberry vinaigrette, avocado mousse, artichoke and green olive pie and squid and mussel salad.
For the main course itself you can stick to one of the perennial favourites (roast duckling or rib of beef with béarnaise sauce, both for two) or try the millefeuille of scallops and chicken (a seemingly odd Why am I here? Why is everyone else in the public bar?' combination perhaps, but one that pays off) or the breasts of wood pigeon with red cabbage, parfait of duck liver and a glossy conker-coloured madeira sauce.
The cheeseboard is British. I was too full to try it, and had anyhow already been lured by the sticky toffee pudding (or le pouding 'sticky' au caramel, as it is given in its French translation) which tastes just how it sounds it will taste. The pudding trolley quivers with mousses of chocolate, ginger and lemon, a plum roulade, black- berry flan, profiteroles, a deathly mocha cake and exotic fruit salad.
The wine list is good — neither too expansive nor expensive. The Hunter Val- ley Rosemount Estate Diamond Reserve Red (£12.95, a mixture of cabernet sauvig- non and shiraz) is a good choice: astringent but not shockingly so, to start off with, but it opened up wonderfully.
What also impressed me about Leith's was their full vegetarian menu (which you are offered as a matter of course) and the fact that if you pay by credit card the counterfoil is filled in properly so you are not left wondering whether you should, in fact, add a further tip. Indeed, the service is consistently excellent. Now for the bad news: at around £40 a head (as it worked out on my visit) you are definitely in expense-account land. Those without plas- tic perks, start saving now.
Nigella Lawson
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