FOOD is back, quite definitely back, in fashion. Now, I
know we all thought that for the last ten years it has never been out of it, but this is not, we now learn, so. What we thought was the decade of conspi- cuous consumption was mere culinary trompe l'oeil, nothing but decoration on the plate. Now artiness has given way to heartiness and the man to thank is Anthony Worral-Thompson. Of course, it's not all his doing. And before we go on, it's worth remembering that he is a man who has decorated a fair number of plates in his time — most notably in Ménage a Trois where he conceived and constructed a menu around doll's-house-sized servings. Ménage a Trois was a haven for people who knew that it was cool to be into food but weren't interested in eating much of it. If you wanted to toy with a duck breast and mango salad at the next table along from the Princess of Wales, this was the place to come.
A year ago, obviously tiring of the miniaturist's art, he opened 190 Queens- gate. With what relish did he pull out of his chef's hat such plump delights as sweetbread-stuffed pigs' trotters, cabbage- wrapped, foie-gras-smeared pigeons, pots au feu and earthy, fat-thickened lentils. But I think his latest move, and geog- raphically speaking, it is not a move but an extension, is his best yet. What he has done is open the sort of restaurant that would be commonplace in Paris, but is lamentably absent in London. Bistrot 190 offers food that one wants to eat rather than moon over. Yes, it's fashionable (anything Worral-Thompson does is, by its very nature, fashionable) but it has an appealing chunkiness which combines impressively with eclectic elegance.
I started with the spicy lamb sausage, haggis-shaped and topped with curried oyster. The oyster and sausage combina- tion is one I approve of: in fact, I have had to go out in the wind and wet just for the Thai-ishly spiced sausages, searingly hot against the cold kiss of the half dozen oysters that come with them, at Alastair Little's. But I think that the curry on the oyster here was an unnecessary curlicue. The sausage, fat and buddha-like under- neath, was, however, perfection. But Worral-Thompson can go over the top with style — to wit his voluptuous beef and foie
gras carpaccio, drizzled with truffle oil and banked with arugula (once known simply as rocket), a salad I love: it has the sharpness of nettle with the softness of mache.
There is one thing I'd plead with Worral- Thompson to do, and that is put the braised shank of lamb that was on the menu du jour the day I went onto his regular, unchanging menu, and never, ever dream of changing it again. The whole leg comes as if it's walked onto the plate and stayed there, wedged on a mound of gravy-wet mashed potatoes and grainy flageolets. In her novel Heartburn Nora Ephron gives a special recipe for mashed potatoes for those in a despondent or depressed state. Well, this is the stew that 'goes with it. It's both robust and soothing at the same time. I wished I were lying in bed with a bowl of it, but it was good enough here to make me feel less resentful that I wasn't.
The person Taki refers to as the sainted editor found the confit of duck rather too salty. I felt less harshly disposed (though I noted he finished it) and in fact have been planning to order it myself the next time I go. The mashed potato it came with (I think there could have been a bit more of it, but then I always think that) countered the salty denseness of the intensely fla- voured flesh.
We managed a chocolate bread-and- butter pudding between us, but good though it was, this was to answer the call of duty rather than desire. House red was fine, and around £8 a bottle.
I was under the impression that bistros were so named after the Russian word for 'quick' (as in, 'bistro with my kulebiaka, waitress, and hold the mayo'). I know Bistrot 190 hasn't been going for very long, but you do have to suffer for Worral- Thompson's art. You can't book, so you may have to hang around for a table, but it's worth it. At the moment nothing on the menu is over £10 — quite a feat for a central London restaurant — which means that dinner for two should comfortably stay under £50. I do hope the prices don't go up as the place gets more established. I will take it upon myself to return regularly to check up on this.
Bistrot 190: 190 Queensgate, London SW7
Nigella Lawson
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