The workmen that have been populating Bonhams auction house for the past eight months have left. The building noise has stopped polluting the usually serene atmosphere of the salesrooms and galleries and the work is done. The upgrade to Bonhams is finished and it looks very sharp, if a little anonymous and minimal for my liking.
On a small 1st floor spot surrounding the Haunch of Venison square, a restaurant serving mostly lunch and breakfast opens every Thursday for dinner. There can’t be space for many more then 25 covers, so it feels intimate.
On Thursdays the restaurant is opened for dinner, and given we had a connection with the sommelier, Charlotte, we visited yesterday. There is only a tasting menu, no a la carte. It was executed with real confidence in its simplicity. The chef, Tom Kemble has studied at the desks of Scandinavian ingrediant obsessives at Favikon and Hedone and he told us after the meal how as he gets older he tries to step away more and more from imposing his ego onto the plates. We also chatted about how important it is for this approach to work that the chefs have a good palate.
As befits the wine focus of Bonhams and the expertise of director Richard Harvey, who dined opposite our table, the wine list is superb. Not long and 3*ish but dynamic, filled with interesting producers and wonderfully fairly priced. When I go out I don’t want to have to spend 10 minutes reading a book, I want a curated choice.
We drank a 2013 Pesquier Terraces from the Ventoux (£34) followed by bottles of 2008 Roumier Bourgogne Rouge, a snip at £55, 1990 Beychevelle (£120), 2011 Les Terraces Palacios (£56) and some 2009 Chianti Classico Sa’etta from Monte Bernadi.
The 2008 Bourgogne Rouge was certainly the highlight. Without being over-dense or extracted it had real depth, nice Chambolle-style aromatics and a good sense of personality. The Terraces seems to me to have got a lot worse since I first tried it in the 1998 vintage. A Grenache that manages to do that thing a lot of Spanish Grenache seems to of being both rich and acidic, with no real sense of balance.
After dinner, it transpires wearing trainers in Mayfair is an offence punishable by total exclusion from any upscale bar. Can’t help feeling it’s not my part of town.
