At a recent food festival, one of the kitchen crew of Fitzrovia?s Riding House Caf? sent his mum to chat up my friend by proxy.
Formerly a sticky, languishing Indian, an all-day British ?brasserie? now unravels beyond a brutish exterior. From bespoke bestial light fittings to banquettes of near immobilising comfort, it brims with individuality.
?It?s motivating to see our vision take on meaning as customers make it their own? enthuses co-owner/co-designer Adam White, whose pallour pre-opening echoed his surname. With business partner, Clive Watson, White also crafted Bermondsey?s similarly immediately popular and informally rakish?Village East and?The Garrison. Of the?Riding House Caf?,?Richard Harden of the restaurant guide nails this offering thus: ?a sort of younger and trendier Wolseley.?
In the snug, panelled as a prep school, wall?lights are gripped by sharp gnashers of well stuffed bushy tailed, beady eyed squirrels. Close by, a partition to the bar is plugged with static antique doors, letterboxes still in situ. An incision is made in the ceiling revealing otherwise hidden, plaster free structure. Such overt unpeeling of materials feels architecturally fetishistic?
Clubby lights bring atmosphere to a matte, monogrammed whiplash cocktail counter. To the sound of jigsaws, I remember observing White and Watson vigorously debate which style of lampshade should shine through: frilly boudoir magnolia or masculine tin coloured?
Fortunately tin did win.
Opposite, trestles of wagon boards marry theatre seats ?found? in Connecticut.?Of these, White reminisces: ?as soon as we signed off the order we were informed they needed two weeks to recondition.?We changed sea shipment to air freight. But they were held in customs then disappeared.?A specialist search and rescue team at the warehouse (there is such a thing) had no luck locating them.?Fortunately at the eleventh hour they turned up in Manchester and arrived an hour before doors opened??
Personable, good looking and keen, a mostly English front of house team are headed by a perhaps fearsome manager, proud of his skinny tie. Fondling it he reveals: ?it?s a bargain at ?1. From Primark??
Particularly appealing menu picks are written in the ?small plates? section. These comprise around 15 boldly flavoured bites, alas served on fogey china. Although beetroot Carpaccio with sheeps? ricotta verges on clashing with bolshy Merlot vinaigrette, at ?3 it?s a tough call to truly criticise. Much better is cured sea trout with blazingly vigorous jalape?os cooled by cr?me fra?che (?4). Of cooked offerings, salt cod fritters are delicious, delicately suggesting fishy candy floss (?5).
From the menu proper, an 10 oz rib eye on the bone oozes a little action of body warm, scarlet blood when effortlessly cut (?25). A finale of spiced gingerbread with grilled figs and surprisingly refreshing caramel ice cream is a hedonistic knockout embrace of sugar and spice (?5.50).
Although cocktails are king within (safely expect a confidently crafted martini) the subject of wine is amply addressed. With an emphasis on those displaying focussed minerality, over 30 bottles are poured by glass or carafe, starting with very respectful cooperative made wine at ?3.90.
Although the parent of the kitchen Lothario failed to charm my friend on his behalf, effectively leaving her free for me to concentrate on charming instead, the charismatic Riding House Caf? definitely succeedes in courting a good gut reaction.
With much effort to escape the yielding luxury of burnt orange banquettes, I leave as stuffed yet healthy looking as a combed, furred and sharply illuminated wall mounted rodent?
Riding House Caf?, 34 Great Titchfield Street, London W1W 7PQ, Tel: +44?7927 0840
Photography by?Paul Winch-Furness
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