One can barely travel half a mile in London anymore without coming across some new and exotic cuisine. It’s a cauldron of cooking, a cornucopia of culinary delight where you can find everything from churros to chimichanga and pho to pilau at any time of the day or night.
Spoiled for choice, we’re up there with New York now – some say we’ve even usurped it – which would have been laughable even a decade ago. And in this giddy haze of gastronomy, one nation can sometimes seem as if it has been unceremoniously ushered into the shadows: France.
As our tastes have broadened and the world and his cooking pot have descended on us, the original godfather of food, the country which for so long we revered while it sneered at us, is not quite as smug as it used to be. But a great French meal is still a great French meal and one place which is looking to raise the bar once again is an unassuming restaurant in Earl’s Court Road by the name of Garnier.
The area seems to be, or certainly has been, one of the few culinary wrong’uns left in west London, what with its sea of chain restaurants and unappealing takeaways, and has been crying out for a truly independent and neighbourhood eatery.
It has it in Garnier. Run by brothers of that surname, Eric and Didier – the pair behind a string of top dining rooms including La Colombier in Chelsea and Racine in Knightsbridge – it is located inconspicuously near the junction with Old Brompton Road. Its dining room also eschews fanfare and is as typical of a serious French restaurant as can be, with mirrored panels, linen table cloths and red velvet banquettes.
The menu, despite being composed by a Swede, Andreas Engberg, sticks to brasserie classics and features starters such as fish soup, foie gras, charcuterie boards, snails and various salads.
I began with the wild mushroom omelette (£10.50), which sounds terribly dull but which was formulated to such perfection that it was hard to believe that was all I was eating. Seasoned brilliantly to bring out the mushrooms’ full flavour, it was thick yet fluffy and each mouthful provided a subtle difference in taste because of the variety of fungi within it. A salade gourmande (£12.50), a concoction of French beans and shallots, foie gras, gizzards and smoked duck, took my father back in time to 1970s Paris, with the combination of flavours so superb it was all almost too much, not least in terms of size.
We were in a quandary over the wine because I was fish and he was meat, but were recommended a light Pinot Noir, the name of which escapes me but which was about £25, and it worked with both.
The whole Dover sole (£32), boned at the table, was superb. Slathered in melted parsley butter, it was rich – my goodness, it was rich – but was cooked wonderfully and complemented well by the nutty and surprisingly citric sauce.
Calf’s liver (£18.90) with a bechamel and onion puree sauce, which came with fried sage leaves, buttered turnips and radishes, was an unusual combination and pretty heftily priced for a piece of offal, but it was nevertheless cooked well and garnished imaginatively.
Who can resist creme brulee (£6.90)? Not me, that’s for sure, and all that can be said about it was that it was flawless.
Indeed, such is the quality of the cooking here one might even give up the London whirlwind gastro tour for a while, stick local and, importantly, rediscover the masters of old. Granted, it’s not cheap. But if you need reminding why the French held us in such thrall for so long, Garnier is place to go.
314 Earls Court Road
London SW5 9BQ
United Kingdom
Tel: 0207 370 4536
