I WAS beginning to wonder whether there were any genuine
'restaurants du quartier' left in London: those simple establish- ments, usually with the owner as chef, or at least looking after the room, with decent, unpretentious cooking, modest prices and a predominantly local clientele. Instead we are increasingly in the grip of group restau- rateurs, owning ever larger, more grandiose and more expensive establishments, trum- peted in the media and thus making it nec- essary to reserve a table weeks in advance. Recently, however, two friends have intro- duced me to their 'locals', and in each case I have become an instant fan, so that the only thing that makes me hesitate to write about them is the fear that as a result they could be spoiled.
The singer John Rawnsley lives in Ifield Road, Fulham and finds it agreeable .to come home after appearing in Doctor Dolit- tle at the Hammersmith Apollo and find something to eat and drink just along the street. Here Chezmax, started a few years ago by Max Rensland, has settled down in the hands of Graham Thomson and his Moroccan chef, Zak El Hamdou, produc- ing French cooking. The price of the evening meal has recently risen to £21.50 for two courses, £25 for three (lunch is less), but this still seems very reasonable for what one receives. The restaurant is largely subterranean, and, if busy, can seem cramped, but the bistro surroundings at the foot of a spiral staircase, with upright wooden chairs and menus in French, are welcoming. So is 'le patron', Graham Thomson, who takes the occupants of each table through the menu with untiring zest, knowledge and enthusiasm, so that on busy nights by the time he reaches you you will have heard it three times already and prob- ably know it by heart!
As we were dining late, after Rawnsley's show, the place was calmer when we ate and we benefited from Graham's dissertation. I started with a magnificent tourain a l'ail, a gorgeous, garlicky soup from the Touraine, threaded with egg so as to become a kind of garlicky stracciatella, and then went on to a delicious fricassee of cepes and artichokes, served in a cream sauce with foie gras. This gloriously rich dish deserved its £3 sur- charge. I then had a memorable salmis of snipe, the meat off the bone and splendidly strong in flavour, the sauce dark and intense, helped by wild mushrooms, and Rawnsley chose an equally satisfying pot au feu of good, meaty Bresse pigeon, with sweetbreads and foie gras.
Desserts were hardly required, but sound- ed too delicious in Graham Thomson's description to resist. So I had some gor- geous fresh figs, steeped in amaretto and grilled, and Rawnsley took Chezmax's renowned tarte au citron, admirably sharp in flavour. With this excellent French coun- try cooking we drank a fine riesling d'Alsace and a robust Givry from a well-selected, fairly priced list and ended with well-made coffee. Service was friendly and efficient, the atmosphere warm: a cosy room full of local people, several of whom seemed to know one another, all enjoying themselves. It was exactly how a true restaurant du guarder should be; I will return.
I will also return to Ffiona's, nestling in the crook of Kensington Church Street, on your left as you go up the hill. For this dis- covery I had my portraitist (on this page), Adrian George, to thank: he lives at the bottom of the street and had recently dis- covered Ffiona's on his wanderings. Ffiona Reid-Owen had intended to be an actress, but, as tends to happen to aspiring thespi- 'To be perfectly honest all this talk of BSE has put me right off sheep's eyeballs.' ans, she was led elsewhere — in her case into learning to cook and working in restaurants. She opened her own place in Kensington Church Street five years ago and has developed it into a pleasingly idiosyncratic neighbourhood bistro.
Do not be put off by the rather smeary, musically notated front window. It bears no relation to what goes on inside except that it has the menu almost illegibly written on it, as well as the music. Inside is a simply decorated, softly lit room with faded wall- paper, elderly clocks and plain deal tables of assorted sizes. One of these, down the right-hand wall, is a sort of neighbours' table for locals who can thus come in alone, without booking, and sit with one another: a delightful scheme. Several of the other tables are also quite large, and the three of us sat at one end of one, with another cou- ple at the other end. As well as Adrian I went there with a Russian law student, Zarina Korolova, who was intrigued by this demonstration of British informality.
The menu is on a blackboard and, as at Chezmax, is also recited, by Ffiona. Cook- ing is of the skilled home variety and Ffiona's home-made duck pate with madeira was impressively made and greatly enjoyed. Adrian then moved on to butch- er's home-made pork sausages, served with bubble and squeak and onion gravy: a snip at £8.50. Zarina chose guinea fowl with mushrooms, and I was delighted to be taken back several decades to a genuine, old-fashioned chicken Kiev, authentically made and accompanied by gorgeous sauté potatoes (£9.50). After this Zarina and I enjoyed traditional cream caramel with lashings of burnt sugar and, when Adrian observed that what we would really like was some roquefort cheese, Ffiona plunged out into Church Street to see what the late- night deli had on offer, returning apologeti- cally with stilton. That's service for you! Another personal touch was the recom- mendation of a claret not on the list — château-bottled Celtes de Blaye 1989 at £13, a parcel of which Ffiona had recently bought at Majestic Wine Warehouse. That is the kind of restaurateur she is: hostess of a room in which everybody seems to know one another and the atmo- sphere is pleasantly laid-back. The cooking may come nowhere near haute cuisine, but it takes one back to the days when most of us had the time, energy and skill to cook for ourselves. Ffiona's lets you have your cake and eat it: you are saved the chore of cooking, and, along with her admirable bistro food, you are given all the pleasure and entertainment of an evening spent with friends. I cannot recommend her enterprise too highly.
Chezmax: 168 lfield Road, London SW10; tel: 0171 835 0874. Closed Sunday, Monday and Saturday lunch.
Ffiona's: 51 Kensington Church Street, Lon- don W8; tel: 0171 937 4152 (or 0410 139353). Closed for lunch, except Sunday.
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