Deals; Pontevecchio
DEALS Restaurant-Diner (Harbour Yard, Chelsea Harbour, London SW10. Telephone: 352 5887) is a much advertised eatery produced by the Lords Linley and Litchfield. This is a curious barn of a place, decked out like a Western saloon bar, rather than a train diner. Silly objects like stools and carpet-beaters hang from the raftered ceiling, there are cubicles arranged on one side, and window tables on the other side, overlooking a. building site, no view of the river at all. To get to this destination you drive along Lots Road, past more building sites and two sets of security guards. Arriving in a basement garage, you then proceed upwards by lift. Very Kafka, but at least you can park. I was accompanied by David Queensberry on a separate motorbike; he knows about food and is a dear old friend.
Well we needn't have bothered about the food, this is no serious eating place. It's fun with food for the kiddies. The menu is coyness itself — courses are alluded to as Deals, geddit? Opening Deals, Main Deals, Raw Deals, Mini Deals (for chil- dren) etc, etc. There are bottles of ketchup on the table and an all-pervading smell of old oil and onions, like stale sweat, similar to those hot dog stands round Leicester Square. There are also DIY Deals ('cook this ancient Korean recipe yourself on a sizzling griddle'). We had one going on the table next to us and were smothered in a dense smoke from it.
For our Opening Deals, David had the chicken satay with 'spicy peanut dip', which was just that and perfectly all right. I had seafood spring rolls which consisted of tiny little rolls each containing one prawn with a 'sweet and sour chilli relish'. They were rather good, plump and juicy. The 'Dealer's Choice' of the day was soft-shell crab or seafood salad. David chose the latter. What arrived was a steak plate with a humdrum collection of various fishy morsels, scattered with bits of shredded mixed salad and covered with that white- goo dressing to be found on bought potato salad or coleslaw — abysmal.
In for a penny, in for a pound I went for a full rack of Deals spare ribs ('smoked baby back ribs barbecued') — smacking of cannibalism? This was a huge affair over- lapping the steak plate (but not much meat once you got- down to them) rather over- cooked, with an indefinable taste of fish. A large bowl of quite good chips was placed on the side for both of us.
David had given up by now, but out of duty I ordered for my Sweet Deal, choco- late mud ('dark, deadly, delicious and studded with smarties for extra calories').. Ho, bloody ho! This was a slice of some- thing so disgusting as to make you retch. A gelatinous sweet middle covered with a dark topping and the smarties, not tasting of chocolate, more like neat instant coffee.
However, the real espresso coffee to follow was fine. All this and a bottle of the house white wine at £5.95, plus a drink beforehand came to £34.99, including ser- vice. The place was packed and people were being turned away from the door, which little Lord Linley seemed to be mending, so booking is essential it would seem. Take the children, they'd love it.
Searching rather forlornly for some- where to eat on Sunday evening, Ian Scott, who does the Christie's advertising, sug- gested the Pontevecchio, (256 Old Bromp- ton Road, London SW5, Telephone: 373 9082). I hadn't been there for many years. It seems much bigger now with its covered terrace pushing out on to the pavement. The food however was very disappointing. Ian's pasta dish, paglia e fieno al prosciutto was overcooked and oversalted, my can- nelloni di ricotta was stodgy and had obviously been heated up: hot round the edges, cold in the middle. The veal chop with rosemary and butter, which can be so delicious in its simplicity, was appalling. Tough and stringy, it turned to felt in the mouth and had to be spat out, as I was unable to swallow it. John had the very thin breadcrumbed veal escalope Milanese and fared a bit better.
The vegetables were good, the usual crisp fried zucchini and very well done green beans with oil and lemon. There was suddenly a splendid diversion when half the restaurant diners vanished to save their cars from being towed away. It was the first night of Aida and the police were out in force. There was a near riot, great fun for all the boys in leather at the Coleherne opposite. We finished our bad dinner with some good coffee again, at least. The bill, with a bottle of Vino Nobile di Montepul- ciano 1983, was £44.50, without service. Not a memorable week.
Jennifer Paterson
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