A French restaurant in England.
Should I show a French fag or a UK flag? A UK flag becaue the country is the UK.
My husband had visited this restaurant a couple of years ago with family but without me. He remembered it well, and could repeat conversations from the evening. Now it was my turn to go there with family.
Plus Points
My first impression was good. Outdoor seating. Candles on tables. Romantic. As you can see from the pictures, the tables have white fabric tablecloths.
Cosy - a quiet side street, with smart cars! And protected from passing sights and sounds, or fumes, by a high hedge.
Yes. Elegant. Cosy.
Service & Welcome
A posse of three waiters to greet us.
Service And Seating
Hot and cold keenly anxious to please running waiters.
I was happy to be given a table with a banquette against the wall where I could have my large bag on the seat beside myself. (I needed to reach inside and produce a toy to distract the baby. I had a home-made puppet with a moving head. The baby was very good.)
The restaurant interior is small and appears to be only on the ground floor of a double bay window house in a block near the corner of the road. I have to negotiate with a large potted plant to reach my chair. I have a large handbag, a long skirt, and long plant leaves put me in a nervous disposition. The waiters do not hold the plant back. The plant is not budging.
I go around behind it. I change my mind. Whilst the others are parking the car and bringing the baby and her seat, to strap to a dining chair, because she pushes over a high chair by kicking out her feet so a high chair topples backwards, I shall go to the toilet.
An authoritative Madame in charge was agitated that our table of four with a baby had been given a table by the front window which she said was reserved for somebody else. Madame in charge appears, in a huff. "You are the ones with the baby!' She accuses me.
That round table by the window has been booked by another party. We can have any other table. This one? That one? A third?
Great. I see a table with a banquette on one side. It is hemmed in by a smaller table at the far end, by a wall this side. The staff realise we four diners need room on the end for the baby seat. We all contemplate. I hesitate to ask for the tiny table to be moved, temporarily, if not permanently. One waiter has a double dose of initiative, probably borrowed from his companion, and moves the tiny table with the lamp and pumpkin.
Would I get out fast enough in a fire?
Toilets
I am off downstairs to the toilets. Inconspicuous sign for ladies on door which is propped open.
One cubicle. Washbasin with teeny towels like face flannels to dry your hands. (Do Americans call flannels wash cloths?).
I take photos of myself in the mirror. My last chance to get a standing photo for my dress of the day blog, as I shall be sitting all evening. My son appears. I point out that he is entering the ladies. I step out and he obligingly agrees to take a photo of me with my mobile.
Upstairs on the ground floor (Americans would say first floor) we play musical chairs around the small table.
The Menu
The menu is a sheet written in italics in French. I would have liked some explanation of the presentation of each dish, the accompanying vegetables or sauces, and portion sizes, a recommendation as to which is the favourite of the waiter or the diners. This is not an American diner where the waiters expect a tip and have a rehearsed speech about each dish.
Covid precautions have disappeared. Neither staff nor diners are wearing masks. My family are sharing drinks and food.
Drinks
I had a glass of champagne. Good enough.
The red burgundy wine was pleasant, not too biting. I am not a red wine drinker.
The waiters efficiently try to clear away empty glasses from those not drinking red wine. I sip the burgundy wine from somebody else's glass.
It's good. I am the only person in Britain, indeed the world, who is still nervous, ignoring all precautions, except not kissing baby, nor adults, nor shaking hands, but still nervous.
I have a glass of bubbly.
Prices
Fifty pounds for three courses for dinner. (Forty five for two courses. 12.50 for a glass of Champagne. I never got to see the drinks menu. A glass of Sauterne is mentioned on the menu after the desserts.
My family said of the prices, 'It sounds a lot, but you would pay more for top restaurants in central London. Years afterwards, you have a good memory of your evening there. You are paying for a treat. None of the dishes are anything I would or could do at home."
Bread and Olives
Our baby, my grand-daughter, aged under two years old, liked the bread and olives. We had to ask for more bread.
Baby Verdict On Bread, Olives and Food
Later, she liked the carrots and broccoli. She cannot speak yet, but she gave the vegetables ten fingers. She ate most of it with both hands. (When she is not keen and loses interest in food, she drops it on the floor.)
Starters
Our starters were: Mine - salmon in pancakes. Different. Full marks for presentation. Two long thin pancakes rolled up like white cigars in a sea of sauce.
Taste? Okay. For some reason I was expecting the salty bite of medium quality smoked salmon and it tasted like plain salmon. No wow factor with taste. But it had looked good.
Two other diners ordered rabbit terrine. Rabbit. Also different. You don't get that in McDonalds.
The most dramatic looking starter was globe artichokes. Presented with the leaves flattened around the outside of the plate like a clockface with the heart in the middle. Excellent presentation.
Why is nothing wowing me? Have I got Covid?
In an era when Covid precautions are over, but some diners will have long Covid, knowingly, or unknowingly, food presentation is even more important.
Main Courses
For main courses, we, one couple, chose the veal for a minimum of two persons, (cote de veau which is side of veal or rib at the side or cutlet). Tasty.
Another diner chose the fish. One of the two fish dishes offered. She is a picky eater. She can ruin your meal if she finds the food too spicy. She was happy.
Baby Verdict
Baby also liked the carrots and broccoli. She cannot speak yet, but she gave the vegetables ten fingers. She ate most of it with both hands. (When she is not keen, and loses interest in food, she drops it on the floor. Sometimes she wrinkles up her little face in disgust, and chucks the morsel away.
I feel like I am watching a cricket match. Or badminton. She is throwing or bowling.
Our team of adults are rushing to catch. Her parents on either side rush to catch. Sometimes they are distracted by adult conversation. As umpire I have to interrupt, 'She\s going to throw it!'
If she is bored, and decides to scream, we will have to leave the restaurant and go without dessert. If the waiters or the people at the next table provide enough distraction, she is amused and we can stay.
She was wonderful. The mother had forgotten (or chosen to forget? - maybe unconsciously?) the baby's dummy. Luckily, I had remembered to bring a new toy. I have a DIY puppet whose head pops out of a kitchen roll tube with a rod like a thick knitting needle. I am chief children's entertainer for the evening.
Desserts
Another person chose isles flottante. I did the same.
Isles flottante. Photo by Angela Lansbury
Mistake. First of all, I did not like it at all. Just white sugary nothingness.
Secondly, the French is plural. It is usually presented in a large dish with a series of mounds or islands in a sea of sauce. We each had one island.
As there were two diners ordering the dish, it could have been presented with two islands in one large dish. I suppose that nowadays with covid-19, people don't like to share. So the waiter could have shared out the portions, just as they pour out the wine to each person in turn.
I got half way and put down my spoon. Unlike me. I had scraped up every morsel of sauce from the main savoury dish with the bread, French style.
Maybe I was full. No. I could finish an entire box of chocolates. But not the isles flottante. Another diner, my son, noticed my unfinished dessert. He asked for it.
I ended up swapping with the person who was half way through their chocolate dessert.
Chocolate Dessert
Chocolate dessert at L'Aventure Restaurant. Photo by Angela Lansbury.
The first mouthful of the chocolate was great. But a whole round tennis ball of chocolate was too much and my taste buds no longer detected chocolate by the end.
To be fair, I must admit that we all gave our blueberries to the baby, who thought the blueberries were fabulous. She ate them one at a time, and did not throw one of them on the floor. I suspect that the blueberries would have counteracted the sugariness of the two desserts which lost their appeal.
Apple Tart - French Style
Apple tart at L'Aventure Restaurant. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.
By far the best dessert, to my mind, was the apple tart. The freshness of the thin slices of cooked apple, were complemented by the perfection of the circle of apple slices in the circle of pastry.
If I were to go there again, I would share a dessert and opt for the 45 pounds two course meal instead of the full fifty pounds. That would
reduce the price and the calorie count.
Best Plus Points
1 The bread and butter. The breads included one with seeds. We had olives with the bread.
2 Best starter - artichokes.
3 Best main course - veal.
4 Best dessert - apple tart.
5 White tablecloths.
Any Negatives?
1 The toilets are down a flight of stairs. For anybody with mobility problems, not ideal. That can't be changed.
2 No chocolate with the bill. They might consider changing that.
3 High prices. But I like a set meal, so I know the cost.
This is just the opinions of four experienced adult diners and one novice baby. Finally, did the restaurant live up to its name? Yes, it was French. Yes, it was a culinary adventure.
The Adventure Restaurant
3 Blenheim Terrace
London NW8 0EH
tel:020 76246232
laventure3@gmail.com
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