Dean Street Townhouse

A quick note on Dean Street Townhouse: although the baltic November weather is closing in fast you can still sit outside here on a Friday night (under some powerful, eco-destroying heaters) and quaff prosecco to your heart's content whilst nibbling soggy nuts and watching the Soho set swagger past. Like it's still summer. Winner.

If you are going to do breakfast there is only one dish that you have to get perfect. Forget museli. Forget Granola. Forget poached pear and honey with Greek yoghurt. Please, please, please forget the oxymoronic abomination that is an eggwhite omlette. No, if you want to do breakfast well, you have to get the bacon roll right.

Not a bacon sandwich, which is perfectly ok if nothing else is available, but isn't the real thing. No. You need a roll. Toasted. Crunchy on the outside, yielding within; a counterpoint to the softness of the bacon. You need good quality bacon. I prefer streaky, here it was back. Cooked perfectly; a little charing on the fat, not too crispy. Again, by preference I'd go for smoked, here not, but none the worse for it.

So the service sucks: it really cannot take three goes to get a latte, and I am still waiting for the bread basket ordered, but the bacon roll is the reason to go here. It is a joy to behold. Not perfect (see above), but one of the finest that you will find in London, hence the world.

I still haven't really made my mind on the place (not that it matters). I was meeting with friends and it's nice to go to a slightly more grown up place in Soho now and then. I was greeted by a helpful group of waiter/waitresses/doorperson and was efficiently shown to the table. The atmosphere is interesting. It looks like a posh brasserie, feels a little like a man member's bar and had a fair share of scantily clad tall blondes and media type individuals. The food is Brit but looks fancier on the plate but ultimately was adequate.

The Dean Street Town House was one of the greatest disappointments in recent London outings. Everything from the food to the service to the price was a disaster. It was exceedingly difficult to understand where the hype comes from, apart from being a slightly more civilised option in this part of SoHo, but I would not return if I was paid. The only plus is the decent atmosphere, but it cannot begin to make up for raw fish, rubbery side vegetables and an uspeakable mistake with the wine. Thumbs down.

Well what a lovely time I had at the Dean Street Dining Room last night. I have to say that I was very impressed; much more than I was with my visit to the Hand and Flowers in Marlow a few weekends ago. Sure, the food isn't quite to the same gastronomic level, but it’s not meant to be. What worked was that simple things were done very well.

Old fashioned British classic food with a modern touch.

The lamb sweetbreads on the onion tart with a runny poached egg was a hit on a table of hard-to-please French. The guinea fowl terrine was very yummy too, but the surprising star was the smoked eel kedgeree. Think perfectly cooked rice with a bit of bite, a rich buttery sauce and then this delicate smoked eel coming through; hats off to that.

Again with mains, simple things well done. My calves’ liver, bacon, caramelised onions and rich sauce was very tasty. The shared porterhouse steak and a couple of rib-eyes were gobbled down with pleasure too. Even something that I have perfected at home (in my humble opinion), a slow-cooked cheek of beef was right up to standard, and really well off-set by the best tasting neeps.

Our main waitress was a cheerful Australian girl supported by a band of others who just did things in the background without you knowing. She thoughtfully found that our wine (a very luxurious Cotes Nuits St Georges) was down to the last few bottles, so asked if we would like to set the others aside; a simple and thoughtful touch. Our table was kept in perfect order throughout the service.

The Dining Room itself is tastefully decorated and made me think of a Victorian country coaching inn. Nice silverware, linen, candle holder, sauce boats etc; subtly lit, warm and inviting. Also, some of the nicest toilets I have seen in London in a wee while. Hand and Flowers, with your dingy loo and dusty plastic plants – take note. This is more what a 2 star loo should look like.

The only drawback that I can think of is that because this place is so popular, the bar is as busy as well the restaurant, which made it the experience quite loud. Though, as the night went on, the noise levels dropped and we relaxed into our deserts and digestifs. A particularly good spotted dick and rhubarb cobbler deserve a mention.

At the end, our bill was quite pricey, but that was because our choice of wine and drinks. Had we gone for something a more modest, the bill would have been very reasonable indeed.

Well done Dean Street; simple things done well is a great way to run a business. I will certainly be telling people that this is a great place to go and be returning myself.

I really love Soho at the moment, I swear a new bar or resturant opens on a daily basis, which can only be good news. Of course Dean Street Town house has been around long before these new swanky joints. This was my second visit and once again I am impressed with the food. Lamb Sweetbreads, beautifully tender with tiny Girolle mushrooms and broad beans with a sauce which I am warned by our very young and helpful waiteress will be served just at room tempature. No further explanation? Not shown on their menu via their web site, so a pleasant surprise. My guest diner on receiving his Monkfish, scallops and bacon with Pearl Barley pauses somewhat when it's placed in front of him. Is this a starter pretending to be a Main or maybe a Monkfish pretending to be an infant? It's looks rather a small portion, but no wait, he comes up smiling and suitably filled.

Yes this place is expensive, charging £4 each for some tiny side veg dishes and even £3 for some truffles bought with our coffee. But hey, this is swanky Soho and this place has a real buzz about it that makes you crave more.

Super efficent service both at front of house and throughout and a real joy.

They are clearly forward thinkers here as I see from their web site that their Christmas set Menu is already in place although my garden still has a few daffodils lurking!

Still. it's useful to see what I can eat in December but, whatever you do don't look at the price!

I always feel meaningful and eminent when in Dean Street Townhouse. It’s just a fantastic building in a great part of London. You can escape the sex, colour and vulgarity of Soho, the pick ‘n’ mix of beatnik culture, but then again, why would you really want to? Oh yeah, because everyone has to eat and drink at some point.

I took Anouska in an attempt to impress. I thought it would be a subtle introduction to my flamboyant vogue and give an impression of stardom and distinction, afterall, its become quite the hangout. The latest property in the back pocket of Nick Jones’ Soho House empire (partnered with Richard Caring), Dean Street Townhouse doesn’t quite have the same ‘no status, no entry’ policy of its partner down the road on Greek Street. Clearly, as I’m here and if that’s not proof that they’ll let any old riffraff in then Wagner won’t win The X Factor.

Inside, the Georgian replicated building reflects its eclectic neighbourhood by showcasing “the cream of contemporary British art”, with work from the likes of Paul Noble, Keith Tyson, Peter Blake, Tracey Emin, Mark Titchner, Fiona Banner, Keith Coventry and Mat Collishaw. An offbeat antique atmosphere is reflected in dark wood, and red, leather padded seating, plus monochrome tiles and calming greens that produce a contemporary New Yorky boutique feel, yet the menu spotlights a more retro-British quality. Nothing reflects this more than AA Gill’s “attitude dish” mince and potatoes. But I can’t comment on that as I started with fried duck egg, chicken livers, horn of plenty & devilled sauce (£9.75). A cheeky little introduction with a runny yolk and horn of plenty. It’s okay, I didn’t know what it was either. From the fungi family, craterellus cornucopioides, it’s an edible mushroom, also known as trumpet of death, black chanterelle, black trumpet, or horn of plenty. So there you go. Thank you Wikipedia.

The twice-baked smoked haddock soufflé (£8.75) was creamy and filling and a British twist on a classic French dish by head chef, Stephen Tonkin. Anouska gazed, beholding the spherical soufflé that sat in front of her as the warm runny cream dish was raised and poured over like a savoury Christmas pudding. I picked up my fork and did the courteous thing, I ate half. Then felt sickly.

New potatoes as a side dish are steeply priced at £4.00, but is that really a shock? We’re at Dean Street Townhouse in Soho and I was hardly going to bring my own. Several small pebble-like spuds were heavily buttered in a bowl and helped build up my main of outrageously expensive red-legged partridge with bread sauce (£21.75). The partridge was presented on a large, white plate with its size zero legs on one side and the sleek, plumb (ish) breast on the other. The meat was slightly crispy on the outside and succulently moist and tender inside. Mains are always a struggle as I’d quite happily dig-in to everything on a menu, but both my wallet and my size-32 waist (honestly! for now…) refuse me. The partridge was served with braised lentils and root vegetables, all warming and very British. After I’d finished on the legs (the partridge’s, not Annouska’s), there was some breast for me to devour. Don’t worry, I’m not going to lower myself.

Anouska went gamey too with a warm wood pigeon, black pudding & scotch quails egg salad (£10.00). In all a well-balanced dish with the richness matched in both the pigeon and black pudding, cooled by salad leaves and warmed by small orbs of breaded quail eggs. Those of you who read my enduring, dragging pages will know about my quest for wonderful scotch eggs. These petite versions were dainty and soft and a lively booster in a salad.

Anouska chose the wine and picked two glasses of Pinot Blanc (£8.75), the point genetic mutation of Pinot noir, full-bodied and dry. Easy to knock back if a little languid held against pigeon and black pudding which burst with matcho faculty. Future pairings will see me reach for an elegant Piedmonte Nebbiolo d’Alba or a recent discovery, A & J Gomes, Azamor from Alentejo.

Sticky toffee pudding served with Scotch whisky ice-cream (£6.50) was an absolute winner. Unfortunately, I was too full and therefore unable to finish the dessert, something quite unheard of by me. I have let everyone down. Writing this I can’t help but be reminded of the scene in BBC2′s The Trip when Steve Coogan persuades Rob Brydon to try the sticky toffee pudding, “Mmmhhh, that is wonderful,” says Coogan. Brydon agrees, “Mmmhhh, that’s fantastic!” This sticky toffee pudding was wonderful and the Scotch whisky ice-cream cooling and melting in truly orgasmic fashion and creating involuntary contractions of the muscles of the genitals. Smoothly casing the throat and wrapping up a quiet wonderful evening of British grub.

We only recently made our very first visit to Dean St Townhouse, which was early December, but so far this year we have been back three times and our visits have covered, Thursday lunch, Monday dinner, Sunday late lunch and a Saturday lunch. Each visit has been with different people including two vegetarians and one really fussy eater!

The restaurant is really good fun, really welcoming staff at the door, a lovely Maitre D' from Scotts restaurant who is efficient and friendly. We have always had pleasant waiting staff and good service. Decor is great, good lighting comfortable seats, glasses and cutlery just the right side of good quality without feeling like they have got the best set out.

With a total of eight diners in all and with varying degrees of culinary foibles I can say everything we ate was enjoyed by all. A good Bloody Mary to sip while reading the weekend papers, both our weekend lunches were very civilised and relaxing. The restaurant is open all day so you can linger without feeling rushed.

Dinner time the restaurant is lively and good fun, everyone seemed to be having a good time – we certainly were.

Our favourites so far are the chopped salads for starters, mains being fish, chips and mushy peas, steak with béarnaise sauce, my personal favourite is the mince and potatoes, always a winner on a cold day.

Having whiled away many an hour we have seen the Afternoon Tea pass us by, and hope to one day manage it…

I've been wanting to visit this restaurant for ages on the back of some excellent reviews. However, my experience was decidedly average.

3 of us had lunch last week. Two of us had steak and the other had a curry. The curry wasn't that good although I thought it was a bit silly ordering a curry in a place like this so maybe not really their fault? The waiters got our steak orders wrong so I ended up having my friend''s medium-well whilst she had my medium rare. The steaks themselves were ok but not great. And they were really oily! I would like to think that the chips were home made at an establishment like this but I do not over egg it to say that I've had better oven chips!

The service was charming but not all that good, mainly, I think down to the fact that they were exceptionally busy. They offered us a free dessert due to the mix up, which I think was a good way to try and win back some good will. However, because of the poor standard of the mains, two of us opted for the cheese. I couldn't be bothered.

All in all, this place was ok but I won't be rushing to go back.

Earlyish on a hot, busy Thursday night in Soho we hit this spot with some confusion (where's the entrance? Not through the hotel, not the staff door – ah, next one…there's the desk, where's the front-of-house person? Aha! The rather frazzled girl in the floral dress, being run ragged).

The buzz was brill, the table right by wide- open windows at the front: a rather small but perfectly placed table with the temperature so high (see said table on the restaurant image gallery). The staff were cheerful and friendly, and coped well with the frenetic level of activity. Properly cold champagne, fab-sounding menu – so good, so far…

I had the herb-roasted salmon on toast with crushed broad beans to start. It looked so pretty, little nuggets of golden-crusted salmon, a bright green smear of colour on a rustic slice of country-style toast, the plate artfully decorated with pea shoots but it tasted of…next to nothing. The salmon was underseasoned, the toast underdone & very soggy and the crushed broad beans were effectively pureed to an unidentifiable mush, again underseasoned. Boringly bland.

My friend had the spinach & pennard ridge (a goats cheese) tart. It was ‘a slice of quiche’ as she declared, surprised. She was expecting an individual tart, which was not the kitchen's fault, but it was served cold as in not-long-out-the-fridge cold rather than room temperature, which was the kitchen's fault. It tasted disappointingly bland, she said. I had a go: nice pastry, nice texture and nicely-seasoned; the flavour was delicate and much improved in the heat of the restaurant, eventually. My friend had by then got bored of it.

The boys won hands down with their starter choice: wood pigeon, black pudding & scotch quail egg salad. The wood pigeon breast was well-cooked (as in correct ie rareish), the black pudding was crunchily cooked and terrifically tasty but the deep-fried dinky scotch eggs with warm, runny yolks were fantastic: I want them as a bar snack, all by themselves – please! A really satisfying punch of flavour and novelty (I salivate as I type).

Mains: my man had steak & chips, competently cooked. The other man had duck, and the ladies both chose rump of lamb with marinated artichokes & heritage carrots (like tomatoes, the humble carrot now proudly proclaims its ancient roots). I wanted my lamb medium rare and my friend asked for medium to well-done. “Don't get them the wrong way round” I joked to the waiter. He then did, a seemingly genuine mistake rather than a punishment for my (un)wisecrack. We swopped plates, and my meat was cold. Not even warm. I asked for some hot gravy, but the staff insisted that the meat was cooked afresh. The new plate arrived with the meat nicely cooked but just warm. I gave up and just ate it; the dish was otherwise fine. My friend said hers was cold too, really, and the duck man admitted his duck was cold too. This was nothing to do with the adjacent open window – in fact the steak man was closest to the window and his rare steak and chips were perfectly hot (I blagged forkfuls while waiting for lamb rump no. 2).

The service was probably a bit slow for many people, but our group had plenty to catch up on so we happily chatted through the any gaps without caring – and the repeat lamb came fast. The wine list was okay, and the wine chosen was fine (there doesn't appear to be a sommelier, and we four knew much more about wine than our waiter, which with our combined years of age & experience didn't surprise or faze us).

I wanted to like it, I sort of liked it but not enough to go back in a hurry. Maybe my expectations were over-raised: it's undeniably a ‘happening place’ but the food didn't quite cut it. Try it.