ST JOHN HOTEL: THE ORIGINATOR

There's a pleasing circularity about the opening of this latest branch of St John, a hotel and restaurant in the heart of London's Chinatown, which only occurred to me as I was having a less than satisfying second starter (restaurants, eh?) there: I was eating only a short hop away from Polpetto which occupies what had once been the French House Dining Room AKA St John Mk1.

In the seventeen or so years since the mothership proper opened in Clerkenwell there have been many imitators - the "School of St John" as HS has coined it - which have developed the idea of a few primo ingredients, simply prepared and arranged just so but few have had the chutzpah of the original to leave things as they are. Like that old stalwart Manzi's, the fish restaurant (and sometimes hotel) which occupied this site five years ago, StJ has remained pretty immune to the fads and fashions of the London dining scene.

Walking into the new joint the other day gave me a little frisson of recognition. the clean, white room which always reminds me of a secure facility, where you half expect to see R.P McMurphy (waiters as orderlies); here, the terse menu; there, the small glass tumblers and the smiley, efficient service.  All present and correct.  

And The food? Well they don’t call Fergus Henderson the Mies van der Rohe of the restaurant world for nothing (actually they don’t - I just made that bit up). So there are dishes where the use of white space on the plate is as important as the food. Ok, so the portions are not the most generous around but you get the point (that the plating is part of the shtick).
 
I liked my first starter of Veal Tongue very much.  It had that effortless quality you might get in a plate of food on the continent but seldom find here. Some waxy potatoes, watercress and a mustardy dressing enlivened by capers were mixed with the slices of tongue. It was a little underseasoned for my tastes but that seems to be the modern way - I like things pushed a little in this department.

The dreaded portion control was in the house in a second starter. The pressed Pig’s Head - a variation on the brawn theme - was rather good but there was so little of it that it was more like a seasoning than the main element.  C'mon St J, is your bottom line really going to be compromised by serving up a couple more slices?  Hmmm? The flavours of the rest of the assembly may also have come through more clearly with less dressing.

A main course of Pigeon was better and almost an exemplar of the StJ philosophy. A couple of leg joints had been cooked to rare and were of excellent quality.  There’s no indication of the provenance here - you just take it for granted that the raw ingredients will be very good. The innards had been mashed up and spread on fried bread. They didn’t have a particularly gamey hit, but they weren’t awful. The bitterness of the turnips worked well with the rich bird but I could have done with less liquid sloshing around. Not very St.John.

Desserts have always been a major strength of the kitchen. One was a vibrantly coloured (and tasting) Blood Orange Jelly served with  some segments of that fruit, a blob of preternaturally rich and thick Jersey Cream and the shortest and crumbliest of shortbread biscuits.  The second an oh-so-boozy Marc ice cream, sweetened by the addition of Sultanas and accompanied by a glossy sablé biscuit.

Some decent coffee tailended the meal but at £15 a shot La Vieille Prune was a bit de trop for this diner.

Obviously, this style of food won’t be for everybody - sometimes you just need a bit more of yer actual cooking going on, especially at the prices charged - but if you're in the mood for a bit of minimalism or you want to know where it all started then the St John Hotel will pretty much do the job.  It did for me anyway.

ROCHELLE CANTEEN

Yowie! - it’s Connie Lee
At the wheel of her Shark-de-Ville

I did a JKD course once. That’s Jeet Kune Do, the martial art developed by Bruce Lee. During one session the instructor was giving us some practical advice on what to do “if it all kicked off”. As he demonstrated, on me, how to take someone down then break their arm, I could see all the other students – all nice middle class folk to a man and woman – give a big grimace. Then it was someone else’s turn. It got me wondering when I was last in such a situation. Sure, it can get a bit crowded down at Borough Market and there was some jostling once at my local deli when they had samphire in, but as a rule we don’t get into dodgy or dangerous predicaments, especially as we get older.

Another place high in the “least likely to kick off” stakes is Rochelle Canteen, a very middle class enclave in the heart of The Ditch. There’s a couple with their little son, chowing down on Grilled Squid and Coriander Sauce with a side order of Spring Greens and gulping Fentimans Ginger Beer. Look, it’s Margot Henderson, the owner, with her husband Fergus (of St John fame) sitting at an impromptu outside table with friends, laughing and drinking and smoking. There’s a man by himself with a half bottle of Chianti and a guidebook to Northern Spain enjoying a Smoked Mackerel, Dandelion & Horseradish Salad. This a place where people don’t have to be told what Bavette is.

Rochelle Canteen is only open for lunch during the week, which is my excuse for not having visited during the two years it’s been going - even though I’m only a short hop away. It used to be a super secret place that was known only to those in the er….know. But now you can book or chance your arm and just turn up. You still need to be buzzed in though, this is Hackney after all.

The food is more akin to St John Bread and Wine, a sort of St John Lite. It’s simple, it’s seasonal and the prices are ungreedy. What’s not to like ? Well, the cooking is a little uneven although to be fair I didn’t give the menu a good seeing-to.

Bread and Lucque Olives to nibble on were excellent. The aforementioned salad was nice: the bitter leaves working well with the smoked fish, although the advertised horseradish seemed non-existent. Bavette tasted ok but had been overcooked and was a bit tiède. The chips were great. Chocolate Pot for sweet was nicely done. Of the other dishes I saw going out the Foie Gras Terrine and the Grilled Squid both looked good.

So Rochelle Canteen is worth a punt if you’re in the area and fancy a lunch that’s a bit more evolved than an Egg and Cress sandwich or Pumpkin soup. The other attraction is that it’s BYO with no corkage, so if you don’t have to be completely cm in the pm you can have a really good time. And you won’t have to spend an arm or a leg let alone break one.

TROTTER GEAR

A BAG OF WOBBLY GOODNESS

Until about two years ago whenever anyone from outside the UK asked me to recommend a restaurant in London that was unlike anything they may have tried before or were unlikely to find outside the UK, I had only one answer. St John.

The austere room, the menu pleasingly bereft of explanation and the unapologetically French wines served in small beakers. There was no where like it.

A few years ago, during a Q&A on a website, I asked Fergus Henderson why no one had tried to replicate what he did. His answer was that he did not know, but he was replicating himself by opening St John Bread & Wine.

That’s all changed now, of course. The “school of St John” is now a fully recognised part of the UK food scene with direct descendants such as Magdalen, The Anchor & Hope and Great Queen St and those who pay homage to the groundbreaking work of Fergus on just about every gastro pub menu throughout the land.

Even on a recent trip to Australia, I visited Bistrode where just about everything from the food to the graphic design of the menu was an ‘homage” to St John.

With the proselytising of people like Anthony Bourdain and Thomas Keller “ nose to tail” eating has become a fully fledged cuisine in its own right and St John has been placed firmly on the map of all gastro tourists.

The slightly sad thing is that, in some ways, the original originator, has been left behind and recent meals at St John and St John Bread & Wine have been disappointing where as The Anchor & Hope and, particularly Magdalen have been exceptional. What did Wordsworth say? “The child is the father of the man”

So, when I received my invitation to the press launch of TROTTER GEAR, I will freely admit that I viewed the thing with a certain trepidation.

TROTTER GEAR is, apart from books, the first stab by Fergus at making a commercial gain out of the brand that is St John. At its most basic, it is a carton of stock. But, like all things St John, it has been quite some time in the gestation and the combination of Chicken stock, Pig’s Trotters, Onions, Carrots, Madiera, Leek, Thyme and Celery has been through innumerable revisions before Fergus was prepared to launch it on an unsuspecting world.

Judging by the dishes served up to us at today’s launch (all made with TROTTER GEAR) they have got it just about right. A dish of pork belly and prunes was thick and unctuous as was a dish of meaty snails with chickpeas served with slices of fried bread. Best of all was a pigeon & trotter pie which came with a crust which reminded me why I loved St John so much in the first place.

It’s a small scale launch starting at Selfridges in London and then rolling out to their other stores around the country before being offered to other retailers and at £4.50 a pop is definitely worth a punt instead of the thin, watery offerings of most supermarkets.

I can’t think of any other single restaurant in the UK that has a strong enough brand recognition to give its name to a food product. A chef, maybe, but no restaurant. So, whatever your view of St John’s place in the current restaurant scene, it is good to see that Fergus is still thinking that one step ahead of everybody else.