Dinner by Heston Blumenthal at Mandarin Oriental Hyde Park

The food was everything I expected it to be. The fruit meat was one of the most beautiful plates I have been served.
The duck breast was excellent, nice and pink, the pineapple dessert delicious. My companion decided that ordering champagne was better than wine for lunch. Each glass was £14, so that was a bit pricey. Service was excellent. Our only regret was that we didn't have room for the icecream made at the table. Next time…

I must admit to being something of a Heston fanboy. I have travelled to Bray countless times to dine at The Crown, Hinds Head & Fat Duck and have never been anything less than completely impressed. Even the Little Chef in Popham was terrific.

Despite never having never visited Dinner, I immediately recoignised the dishes on the menu – ‘Meat Fruit’, ‘Rice and Flesh’, ‘Tipsy Cake’. I was excited about sampling modern interpretations of these long forgotten British recipes and finally completing the circle.

Rarely do I pay much attention to the decor and ambience of a restaurant – if the company is good and the food is exciting my eyes don't leave the table. This time I noticed – the restaurant was an awkward shape and the view of the rest of the room obscured by several large pillars which I expect are obviously structural neccesities but divided the room. Bare wood tables and banquette sharing was also a little bit of a surprise. It reminded me of a Thursday night at Relais De Venise on Threadneedle, it missed a sense of occasion and the primarily male diners with their primarily male clients and the ludicrously priced Wine list added to an overall feeling of dissapointment.

The food itself was overall good and the the service absolutely faultless. Enough has been written already about the victuals so I won't elaborate here other than to warn that the sous vide ‘Beef Supreme’ did indeed taste as if it had been boiled in the bag for 50 hours as promised. Desserts were good but in terms of the overall meal and experience I left underwhelmed.

I passed on the offer of a cup of tea after dinner, despite the very competitive price of £14.95 a cup – which I hope was made holy water imported from Fiji and not from the the kitchen tap.

After a long time of failed attempts to book the fat duck (really why does he make it so difficult?!) we though we’d try Dinner, so with the gravitas of the Heston’s name appended to the restaurant it brought with it great expectations of a wonderful meal and dining experience.

Salamugundy (Chicken Oysters, Salsify, Marrow Bone & Horseradish cream) was my starter, succulent pieces of chicken, with a delicately spiced horseradish source. Which was quite delicious.

Spiced Pigeon with Ale and Artichokes was my main, again a very good dish.

The Pièce de résistance however was the desert, brown bread ice cream, nothing like or taste brown bread but a delicious unctuous texture that almost had a hint of taste of fois.

As I mentioned at the start there were high expectations due to the Heston association and whilst the dinner was excellent, it didn’t really excite in the way that it might. It certainly is good food done well, but for someone that dines out a lot it wasn’t extra ordinary.

The bill for the two of us came in at £324, getting on for half though was the drinks bill. For me, whilst a good dinner wasn’t interesting enough to warrant the price tag.

My wife and I went for lunch on 19 November; the restaurant was full. We found the largely Eastern European/Asian staff to be incompetent, and had to ask several times for many things, including the cheapest available wine at £49.00 for a Chablis. The starters were bland – the smoked mackerel dish was disappointing, and the scallops (all two of them) were dressed in a tasteless green goo. For the mains, the cider cooked cod was also disappointing, although I had an excellent rib-eye steak. We would not go back again. This restaurant does not compare in any way to Marcus Waring at the Berkeley or Gordon Ramsey at Royal Hospital Road.

I'm new to this gig – i.e. restaurant reviews, so perhaps my 8 out of 10 is unjustly harsh because the reality is that I really enjoyed the food, but hear me out…

I do often find that when I do 3 courses I find that I would have been happier had I just gone for a starter and a main, and the truth is that I felt the same way after my experience at Dinner. It's not that the main (powdered duck) wasn't extremely well executed and flavoursome, but it just didn't have the wow factor I was execting (despite me knowing that I would probably never be able to create this dish at home…I mean, what on earth are umbles???). When discussed with my pal at dinner she speculated that this might be due to hotel restaurants having to play it somewhat safe on the mains if you're catering to hotel guests, as guests quite often just pop in for dinner and don't want anything amazing..just something nice. I thought that this was probably true after giving it some thought.

The starter (meat fruit) and dessert (tipsy cake) on the other hand were, for me two of the most memorable and delicious dishes that I have tried this year. I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed them both, and actually wished by the time I had dessert that I really hadn't gone for the main at all as indigestion had kicked in! (not that that stopped me devouring the entire tispy cake). If I enjoyed dessert so much when I was probably too full for it, you can imagine how it would have gone down if I had more room for it! I blame the meat fruit – do not underestimate just how filling this starter is – there's a serious amount of liver parfait and mandarin jelly going on there, and its oh, so wonderfully rich and delicious!

At just over £100 for 3 courses, a glass of Ruinart rose, glass of rioja and rose tea I thought the pricing was not too bad – the glass of Ruinart alone cost an eye watering £19…but I have not regrets on that front to be honest, as it was a special occasion anyway – birthday (well that was the excuse for booking a table). And when the first thing asked of you when you're seated at your table is ‘Would you care for a glass of champagne?’ and a table laden with the stuff is wheeled over to you, you'd be a fool not to think…'well go on then'..just one glass.

The ambience was pretty good by 7pm (pretty empty when we arrived at 6.30pm as was to be expected on a Monday evening). By the time we left at around 10pm Dinner was still in full swing, and Rupert Everett hadn't left his table by then so I assume he was having a wonderful time. I did think the restaurant area was very smart, but personally I would rather something a little less formal looking, and a bit more welcoming (I'm not really into ‘smart’ dining..I just LOVE good food). The ceiling to floor glass which defined the kitchen area was however, a superb idea. I loved the fact I could look into the kitchen from my chair and see the pineapple for my divine tipsy cake cooking on the spit, and all the chefs preparing wonderful food.

I, like so many others can certainly recommend Dinner for dinner…but I'd stick with the starters and desserts if you want to try some truly wonderful food.

In summary, this restaurant is secure. It’s solid, stable and consistent. Not bad, but far below my expectations for Heston Blumenthal. The restaurant ambiance is positively charged, a pleasurable atmosphere with the right level of ‘bustle’. The service is attentive, yet not overbearing and the waiting staff are well practiced on their menu knowledge. The starters are highly creative and delivered on every level. The main courses were somewhat of a letdown. One of our diners had the Angus beef and thrice fried chips, I’ve got to say I’ve seen and tasted better at my local pub. The deserts were generally first class if a tad uninspiring, the tipsy cake special is in particular lacklustre. The overall historical British menu theme is charming if a little predictable. In summary, Dinner by Heston is a dependable place to take your parents or favourite Aunt for lunch or dinner. Perhaps one to avoid if you’re in search of something out of the ordinary.

Anticipating a rather special lunch and were not disappointed. This is a very inventive menu with a nice touch of including the dates and origins of the dishes – but the rather unsual ‘cracker’ style facts seemed slightly out of place. The set price menu is excellent value but we were too easily swayed by the full menu and enjoyed a fantastic Broth of Lamb and Salamugundy as our starters. It would have been nice if the bread had been warmed and this was probably the most unextraodinary part of the meal
Mains were just as difficult to choose but we went for Pig cheeks and the Pigeon . Loads of flavours and a joy to eat. I always know the food is good when my partner stops talking!
Service was attentive – although I did have to chase for our drinks when we first arrived but other than that there was always someone on hand to make for a comfortable and easy going Lunch
Only dampner was the wine list – I was told this was on a par with other restaurants in the area bit it still made my eyes water!
Expensive Lunch but well worth it…

We had been waiting for a while to go to Dinner and, to a point, we weren't disappointed.

As we understand is customary, we were ushered into the bar for a pre-dinner drink. They did a decent Old Fashioned, though the Bramble was so-so.

Then to the restaurant. A little overheated on a mild Autumn afternoon, but a beautiful view out the window (table 17) and an inviting room (compared to the bar, where the design was a bit confused and clunky).

So to the food. For us it was a tale of courses, two spectacular and one a touch disappointing, both in execution and response.

I'll get the good out of the way first. The starters were magnificent. My wife had the rice & flesh and I had the bone marrow. We swapped dishes half-way through and wished there was more. The calves tail went perfectly with the saffron infused with the rice, which was expertly cooked to just the right side of al dente. As veterans of bone marrow, we were amazed by how they had managed to keep the oozy, unctuous core of marrow, while making it light. The mace gave the flavour a fantastic kick.

Similar satisfaction with desserts. I had the lemon suet pudding, which was light with perfectly matched flavours inside. The star of my wife's tipsy cake was not actually the pineapple, but the cake, which both of us could have eaten all day.

Unfortunately, the mains did not live up to the rest of the meal. My wife's pigeon was cooked just right, but the seasoning and flavours were a touch underwhelming. The biggest disappointment was my pork chop. There were big expectations for this dish, as I had read the reviews. Unfortunately, it was simply overcooked. The meat, which had already been overtrimmed, was dry and, despite the (welcome) warning that it would be served pink, was well and truly grey all the way through. I understand that this can happen to the odd meal and I didn't complain, but what we were a bit put out by way the response. I did not complain, but simply left it half-eaten. When asked for an explanation, I pointed out that it was overcooked. The waiter disappeared to the kitchen and came back with a lecture on different parts of the pig's leg, telling me that if I wanted the part that could be served pink, it would be a £60 meal. I didn't argue, but the fact is it was an overcooked piece of meat. They should be vaguely aware that those who are prepared to drop £260 on a Saturday lunch are probably not newcomers to the intricacies of a pork chop. We took the lecture without complaint, but it was a little unnecessary.

Finally, I understand that margins on wine are all-important for the success of a restaurant, but their pricing was a little ambitious. The (small) glass of sauterene we each had with our dessert was priced at £16.50. We had no problem with that in principle, but when you know it's from a bottle that retails for £12.50, it's on the high side of the usual 2.5-3 multiple.

Quibbles aside, we liked the place and we will be back. Hopefully without the lecture next time.

not awfully impressed. the restuarant was not full when we went. They didnt have the champagne that we'd been drinking and then ran out of the dessert wine as well. fortunately they did have more expensive substitutes…
had the tasting menu – which can only be described as average…

The kitchen is headed by Ashley Palmer-Watts who has worked with Heston at The Fat Duck for nine years in the capacity of Group Executive Chef. “Dinner” (still hate the name) has unquestionably been the hottest opening this year, gathering an incredible amount of publicity and accolades.
I didn't like the food and the flavor…
I had dinner there last night. I dine out frequently and was expecting this restaurant to soon be on my list of favorite places. Sad to say it doesn't rate in my top ten in London. The food was ok. Our group all ordered different things to compare. The steaks were average and cuts not that great. I had the pigeon which was nice. The most disappointing thing was the desserts. The Tipsy cake was OK but the smoky after taste from the pineapple chunks was not successful.

In the end there are far to many better restaurants in London and without the wait. On a positive note, the service was ok.

Nothing better in London in my opinion – i wont bore everyone with details but we had all the menu highlights which have been raved about on the web. Starters, we had the meat fruit and the salmagundy (chicken oysters). The meat fruit was like nothing id ever seen, plus the creamiest chicken liver pate EVER. The salmagundy which was like a very tasty chicken salad – again, delicious, and other restaurants could learn from this and put this kind of salad on the menu – sure to be popular.

For the main, we shared the rib of beef. The service was excellent and the waiter explained the cuts on offer, and offered other cuts if this didnt please! At £75 for two for the main, it was expensive but we both agreed, it was a delicious cut of meat, and completely melt in the mouth.

For pudding, we shared the Tipsy Cake, which was a type of brioche which had been soaked in a sweet pineapple type juice. Im not a fruit fan but this was to die for. i noted Ashley Palmer Watts floating around and got a smile from him, though the famous nitrogen ice cream machine he was wheeling around only seemed destined for the chefs table, sadly.

The bill with a couple of cocktails came to £140 for two – bearing in mind we shared the pudding and main – so not cheap. Bookings are hard to come by but id recommend calling up as we got a Sunday lunch on the offchance. Hestons place is the best in town, and deserved of all the great reviews. Fantastic!

DELISH! DELISH! DELISH!!

Waited an age to get in here, but SO worth it – the decor and the completely delicious food, can't wait to go back! Job done Heston!!

Lunch at Dinner. That’s how Heston Blumenthal plays with time. The eccentric chef fiddling with the space-time continuum like Doc from Back to the Future, and if Blumenthal’s Doc then Ashley Palmer-Watts, Blumenthal’s long-time kitchen accomplice and executive chef, is Marty. Except I know it’s midday because of a giant clock mechanism above an open kitchen – with spit-roast pineapple slowly on rotation – and anyway, it’s still light outside. The huge, stretching bay windows look out over a strangely sunny February day in Hyde Park. Clearly Blumenthal has hit a switch somewhere, or somehow created a honey-glow from the sky using test tubes and a spatula.

It’s only day four at Dinner by Heston Blumenthal, my anticipation for this meal only matched by that half-an-hour before you know you’re going to loose your virginity. Luckily however – for me (lunch) and the said young lady (sex) – it wasn’t over before it began (phew!), and as well as speaking to Blumenthal about the dishes (each dish includes a circa date, the furthest dating back to c. 1390 is Rice & Flesh), I was wowed by six-courses, and that included two desserts.

The restaurant is the first new dining room to open in Knightsbridge for 100 years. Its location is in fact inside The Mandarin Oriental Hotel rather than a standalone restaurant of throughway traffic and punters peering in from the streets of SW7. And it sits – shiny and new – in good company, within a privileged community of Russian billionaires and Middle-Eastern Sheikhs, who splurge wads of cash in Harvey Nicks and Harrods and return home by their seven-second Rolls Royce journey across the road to Number 1 Park Lane and a £135-million penthouse.

At Thursday lunchtime, Dinner wasn’t yet full. You can hear whisperings of excitement on the floor, from tables where celebrities, politicians and general ‘foodies’ perch, licking their lips. Blumenthal was doing the rounds, his crisp chef whites unstained by kitchen dribble. His manufactured sunbeams geared towards him, penetrating through the windows and illuminating him like the Second Coming. For Mr Blumenthal has finally arrived in London.

Unfolding the menu what you read is quite astonishing, each entry with their respected circa date and at the top of the Starter list: Meat Fruit (c. 1500), a creation I’d first seen demonstrated by Palmer-Watts at last years Identità – “Mandarin, chicken liver parfait & grilled bread.”

So this is it. Entry Number one at Dinner. A baffling juxtaposition, a mind-bend, and apparently inspired by a dish from the late Middle Ages (c. 13th – 15th century). On the eye, simple. Straightforward. A plump, singular mandarin sits with a glistening sunny-skin and brilliant green stalk and leaves. Break the skin with a knife and you reveal the smoothest, most silkiest of parfaits, soft, mellow, like slicing warm butter. A rich, heart-stopping foie gras spread like a meaty-treacle across grilled bread. This is exceptional, both in presentation and delivery, an unparalleled starter and soon to be the flagship dish here.

Moving forward and Blumenthal has had his merriment, the tomfoolery-brilliance now replaced with more serious, researched British finds, such as Roast Marrowbone (c. 1720) inspired by The Cook’s and Confectioner’s Dictionary by John Nott, 1723 – ”Parsley, anchovy & mace, pickled vegetables.” Presented like a small Blue Peter garden, the hollowed marrowbone held mixed-contents, with the meat and anchovy pairing nicely for a lifted taste above the pickled vegetables. There were strong hints of garlic and olive too. This was a much cleaner dish to the Meat Fruit, yet less entertaining.

I’d already clocked the regular gobblers about the room. Only day four and to date, Dinner has fed the likes of AA Gill, new daddy Giles Coren, Charles Campion, Fay Maschler, Jan Moir, Mark Hix, Matthew Fort – who waxed-lyrical about the experience in his Wednesday Guardian piece and walked in for the second time in four-days, immediately asking me what I thought of the Meat Fruit? – but incontestably this is the review you’ve really been waiting for, isn’t it? And don’t pretend otherwise. There’s learning guised in this boisterous ramble…

Douglas Blyde sat with Dom Chapman at the table next to me, experiencing similar hysteria from the dishes. The only beef I had, was with the beef: Sirloin of Black Angus (c. 1830) – “Mushroom ketchup, red wine juice & triple cooked chips.” It was a plump strip but chewy, the tough sinews giving the mouth a real lunchtime workout.

I’d be interested to know why Blumenthal and Palmer-Watts chose Black Angus? Black Angus is the most popular beef breed of cattle in the United States, and I know Blumenthal believes to have found the best steak in the US amid glitterballs and go-go girls at Robert’s Steakhouse in New York, where the beasts are ‘grain-fed for twenty-six months, followed by four months on a 99-per cent protein feed.’ Would Longhorn have been better? How about Stirling Charolais?

This recipe’s origin goes back to 1826 and The Cook and Housewife’s Manual by Mistress Meg Dodds. The triple cooked chips were some of the best I’ve ever tasted – that includes Hawksmoor and The Bull & Last – yet the mushroom ketchup left a vinegar sting and some acidity that gave the meat a sharp texture.

Interestedly, I asked Giles Coren what he recommended I order the day before my lunch: “Meat Fruit, Spiced Pigeon and Tipsy Cake,” he replied, only a matter of hours before taking his wife to the hospital to give birth (congratulations daddy Giles Coren and mummy Esther Walker!). And so, upon suggestion and bypassing the £32 price-tag, the Spiced Pigeon (c. 1780) was ordered, cooked in ale and served with artichokes. The delicate meat had a spiced-ruby glow and relaxed itself in an ale sauce.

The chilled Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc had long gone by now – more than half the bottle consumed in the Mandarin bar before dining – and so moving on to bolder tastes, but keeping with the Kiwi artisan touch, Gem Pinot Noir 06′ was a perfect match for sirloin and pigeon.

In truth, the menu is reasonably priced at Dinner. It’s not Set Menu or stonking Michelin prices (you’re looking at £150 per head at The Fat Duck – without wine), however wine mark-ups are where restaurants make their buck and at £29 for the cheapest bottle on the menu (not £39 as stated in The Evening Standard), you’re not only reminded of Knightsbridge prices but exactly whose company you are in. This very good Pinot Noir from Wellington, New Zealand was priced at £55.

In the final chapter I’d already had half the work decided for me: Tipsy Cake (c. 1810) would feature, with spit-roasted pineapple served alongside a doughy, sweet brioche in an iron cocotte. Too much has already been written about the Tipsy Cake so I’ll just say this, it was stunning and I weed my pants a little bit.

My second dessert, Brown Bread Ice Cream (c. 1830) – its origins sourced from A New System of Domestic Cookery by Maria Eliza Rundell, 1827 – less so, but I’d already done the joyous, warm release so there was a tingling comfort throughout this sweet too. The Hovis crumble was again a playful nod to British history and a “salted butter caramel malted yeast syrup” had an enduring drive equally as long as its description.

To finish, a teacup of white chocolate and Earl Grey ganache with cardamom biscuit. Delightfully English and surely a tip of the hat to afternoon tea, perhaps one of our longest and more indulgent of traditions? This again shows how Dinner refines concepts to reinvigorate and celebrate our British culinary heritage.

And so I must conclude, rather routinely now, that I sing the tune of those before me: this is one of the best meals I’ve ever had with at least two standout dishes that rank amongst the very best in London, and therefore the world. Heston and Ashley have cracked it, they’re riding the wave, and they’re pushing out plates while the telephone lines jam with reservation requests. Dinner represents the fine balance between that gastronomic brilliance you expect and brasserie requiescence you desire. Go! Go now and revel, just remember to bring a change of pants.

I wanted to wait to write my reveiw until I'd visited twice. I knew the first time I was going to be too over excited and love it so much I would have gushed without thinking.

It still rates as one of the most enjoyable dining experiences I've ever had but thought I'd add a bit of balance to the hype.

Things I love:
Sommelier reccomendations on the front of the wine list, they've been excellent and saves trawling through the mammonth wine list when you're trying to focus on your guest. The female Hungarian sommelier is fantastic too.

The staff, smiley and genuinely excited to work there. It shows. Not stiff and too formally ‘French’ either which I'm pleased to see is going out of fashion. I love chatting with staff about the food, the restaurant etc, some may find them too informal but it's definitely a highlight for me.

THE FOOD.
It's exceptional. And excellent value for what you get in my opinion. Highlights include meat fruit (someone on the table has to have it) the rice and flesh risotto is also superb and I highly recommend it. Powered duck, cod in cider and the pork chop were all fantastic as well. Tipsy cake is really something special as is the chocolate bar but I found the taffety tart very peculiar. Extreme aniseed flavour and slightly salted too, without any real sweetness to balance it I just found it weird.

Things I don't like!
On the second occasion we were served by a smiley lady whose English wasn't as sharp as her colleagues and she took a deep breath before launching into a ‘Themenuisbased­onhistoricalenglishdishes…’ speech which was reminiscent of a ‘Have you been to a Harvester before’? It didn't feel as genuine as the previous visit. As mentioned in another review another waitress did a ‘sorry to interupt’ when it wasn't really necessary to come to the table. As mentioned, if you have to say ‘sorry to interupt’ you haven't timed it right and that's what high end restaurants should be able to do with ease. Pretty minor gripes though

THE MANDARIN BAR!!!
Is awful, other reviewers are spot on. It's not linked to the restaurant, it's not staffed by the ‘Dinner’ team and can affect the start or put a sour taste in your mouth after an amazing meal. Just stay at your table for digestives.

Getting a table?
It's worth remembering that while they are booked until 2015 I think it's mainly for evening sittings. Chance your arm with a lunchtime and you should get lucky!

There is little that I can say about Dinner by Heston Blumenthal that has not already been said many times more eloquently before. The bloggersphere is awash with praise and whole swathes of Amazonian rain forests have been desecrated to make the news- and magazine- paper onto which further adulation has been heaped. The restaurant deserves every word of praise. It is fabulous.

For those of you who want to know more, read on. If, however, you simply want to know whether it justifies the hype and is worth giving up your first born to secure a table, the answer is yes. Read no further.

For those still reading…

We arrived late for our already late booking, due to being caught in a kettle. This wasn’t some domestic appliance related incident, but rather that our perambulation down Piccadilly was blocked by the boys and girls in blue. It seems that a group of youths fancied a cup of tea in Fortnum & Masons. A fine choice; except that they preferred not to pay. Given their avowed anarchic tendencies, perhaps they adhered to the view that all proper tea is theft. The rozzers were out in force to help show them the error of their ways.

Arriving very late was a mere trifle to the charming front of house staff. Our coats were soon whisked away (an interesting aside here: most places have a sign saying that no responsibility for loss is accepted. Here, the envelope containing your coat check informs you that no responsibility will be taken if the article is valuable. Presumably, if it was a cheap coat, they would cough-up if nicked?). We were then shown through the bar (resplendent with absinth fountain) to the main event.

The room itself is impressive. You approach it by walking through a glass wine cellar and emerge into a light, high-ceilinged, airy space, with enormous chandeliers and an immense clock. On closer inspection, this is dial less and instead is the mechanism for an impressive looking spit, upon which turn pineapples.

Having only booked three months in advance, and for the uber trendy time of 10.30 p.m., we were not at all surprised that we didn’t get a seat by the open kitchen, instead being given pride of place next to a serving station. And service is good. Friendly, helpful, informative (the latter a prerequisite given the fare on offer), if a little quirky at times (how many times do you get food served before the wine? No, no, no – wrong. I digress).

For readers of a website like this, you’d have had to have been living on Mars not to have heard of Meat Fruit. A chicken liver mousse, coated in a mandarin jelly, presented as a mandarin and dating from 1500. I can report that it was every bit as good as reports (and expectation).

But here’s the rub: this was the only Hestonesque dish on the menu. It looked like a mandarin, but tasted of the most perfect chicken mousse. And mandarin. Sure there are odd ingredients (chicken oysters) and odd names (Salamagundy – well, that’s the chicken oysters actually) but, other than Meat Fruit, everything was what it seemed. Steak was steak (and came with chips) and rice was rice (and came in what, by any other name, was a risotto).

But where was the twist, the snail in the porridge?

Actually, that is the twist. This isn’t the Fat Duck. It isn’t even Fat Duck Light. It is a British restaurant serving British food. It is a culinary education. It is a V-sign to French: think that you invented confit duck? Think again: from 1630, I give you Powdered Duck. It is confit. It is a British recipe. At the same time as the French were in Dover pleading for help from the British against the Dutch, it seems that they were also nicking our recipe books (The Queen-like Closet by Hannah Wolley if you must know). Put that in your Gauloise and smoke it Frenchies.

To the hordes of septics who come to London, eat at Angus Steak Houses and Yeah Olde Fishie and Chippie Shoppe before moaning about that we can’t cook, I give you Turkey Pudding; a dish created nearly fifty years before the civil war that created your grating country. And in return, you gave us McDonalds and KFC. Gee; thanks.

The dishes themselves are great. The Salamagundy was fantastic: chicken oysters are my favourite part of the bird, and came with both a light horseradish cream and bone marrow. Two mighty big ticks. On to mains and still excellent: the spicy pigeon was gorgeous – just the right side of pink and just the right spicing, and the pork chop succulent and itself a little pink. Lovely. To finish, we had the tipsy cake with the roasted pineapples. Like the dishes that had gone before, absolutely top notch: a modern classic in the making (from 1810).

Forget the names on the dishes, this is what we commonly think of as French food, and isn’t. It is British. And it’s taken an earnest young man with odd glasses who just wants to make us dinner to show us how rich our culinary heritage truly is.

Dinner by Heston Blumenthal given its august billing did not leave one disappointed. We arrived early and were gently guided towards the bar, which ultimately while linked with the restaurant, really was the one sole blemish on the entire experience. It took 20 minutes for our cocktails to arrive, by which time we were being called to our table.

The menu, as per the website, followed the format of traditional British dishes, with Mr. Blumenthal's unique twist. The sommeliers did a fine job of finding a wine that complemented the food we opted for, an Austrian red which was quite unique and had a suitably long finish.

The starters we opted for were the Salamugundy, done to perfection, and provided a subtle layering of flavours, one after the other, which left one positively craving the next course. Marrowbone, was beautifully presented and met with the very strong approval of the diner. The roasted scallops, were stunning, and used the full versatility of the fish, to provide a stunning dish, full of nuance and delightful texture.

The mains, turbot with cockle ketchup, again lived up to its billing and came deservedly high commended by the staff. A beautiful dish, which used the sheer softness and delicacy of the turbot, with a nuance of the cockle and mussel ketchup. Our other diners had the steak and the braised celery both met with similarly high approval. The meat appeared beautifully rare a very full scarlet and was highly complemented.

The cheeses and the Taffety Tart were quite excellent. The variety of soft and hard cheeses were complemented with delightful chutneys and apples. The Taffety Tart was eaten with such gusto; that anything other than a flawless review would be inconceivable, as was the Samian sweet wine which was ordered with it.

The service, was attentive, but rather patronising at intervals, indeed it rather assumed that we could not read what was on the menu; since there were no specials being advertised. In fact, the constant running commentary while pleasant at first, became increasingly ridiculous and did detract from one's enjoyment at intervals.

Nevertheless, this was a superlative experience and was quite excellent; the small stains of the cocktail bar service did by no means supersede the quality food, and were frankly trifling in comparison. Indeed, it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience, and one would happily dine again in such surroundings; but then again should one expect anything less!

The biggest restaurant opening of 2011 will undoubtedly remain ‘Dinner – by Heston Blumenthal’. The sheer volume of reviews and write-ups about his latest venture are unlikely to be rivalled by any other restaurant opening this year and perhaps even next year. Ashley Palmer-Watts is the Chef at the helm of this operation at The Mandarin Oriental Hotel in Hyde Park. Ashley and his team are continuing Heston's fantastic work but in a much toned down version minus all the mind-scrambling trickery and special effects and instead, with the help of a bonafide food Historian, reviving the dishes of centuries-old Britain.Dishes can sound a bit alien to most with ‘Rice and Flesh’, ‘Meat Fruit’ and ‘Salamagundy’ featuring as starters; but have faith because everyone knows that whatever Heston gets behind, tends to be very magical indeed. ‘Meat Fruit’ has been causing quite a sensation among those who have dined here. A seemingly normal looking mandarin orange on a wooden board accompanied by slices of toasted bread, conceals a flavoursome centre of chicken liver pate enriched with foie gras and encased in a delicate mandarin jelly cutting beautifully through the rich fattiness of the pate itself. A perfect example of point and counterpoint at its finest and a wonderful dish that I could quite happily eat over and over again. ‘Salamagundy’, a simple salad of soft chicken oysters with quivvering slivers of bone marrow amid roasted salsify and mixed leaves was an interesting combination that worked well although couldn't possibly outshine the meat fruit of the final starter of ‘Rice and Flesh’. Gory as it sounds, ‘Rice and Flesh’ is little more than a Risotto Milanese, buttery rich in it's ocre saffron glory, studded with meat chunks of veal tail with perfectly al-dente rice and the most perfect version of this dish that I have ever had the good fortune to taste. A definite addition to the menu of my final meal on earth.

Main courses, whilst retaining the highly skilled execution and ingredient combinations you would expect of such a kitchen, didn't enthrall me in quite the same capacity as the starters. That is not to say that the dishes were not fantastic, because au contraire, they absolutely were but they were more along the lines of exemplary seasonal cooking rather than the wow-factor style that Heston is known for. And this is perhaps something that should be explained; ‘Dinner by Heston Blumenthal’ is not supposed to be anything like ‘Fat Duck’ and you should remember that when eating here, so as to avoid any potential disappointment. Our main courses of ‘Powdered duck with fennel and jus’ and ‘Black foot pork chop with cabbage’ were both very good, although whilst the duck was ‘lifted’ by its pairing with the fennel, my companion did leave rather a lot on her plate and when quizzed about the matter the words “fiddly” and “lacklustre” were mentioned. Not my own opinion, you understand but duck legs are not for everyone and the cooking method can impact on the smell and flavour of the duck in a way that is not to everyone's taste. However full marks for my pork chop that was cooked to perfection with a rich jus that lifted the gentle flavour of the meat beautifully.

The wonderful pineapple spit-roast in the kitchen is a thing of beauty, so much so that I simply had to get into the kitchen myself to photograph them in all their rum-drenched glory. Making up part of the delightfully indulgent ‘Tipsy cake’, I ordered a nice glass of Hungarian Tokaji dessert wine and enjoyed every last buttery mouthful of the delicious sugar crusted bread-like cake, in it's own mini cast-iron dish accompanied by the exquisite and perfectly caramelised wedge of roasted pineapple. Another dish I would happily include on the menu for my final meal on earth.A final complimentary dish is brought to the table; a dainty little tea cup and saucer filled with an Earl Grey and white chocolate ganache accompanied by a finger sized caraway seed shortbread biscuit. What a splendidly unctuous combination, the perfect way to end such a lovely meal… even if you do have to ‘waddle’ out of the restaurant like a pregnant woman.

For those of you who have spent the last year only eating in MacDonalds, or who don't care a fig for fine dining, bald headed culinary Wonka Heston Blumenthal (he of the snail porridge and ‘food as theatre’ TV programmes) has just opened a new restaurant called Dinner on the most expensive street corner in Western Europe. Restaurateurs. Don't. Get. Any. More. Exciting. Than. Him.

The room is fairly generic opulent hotel resto chic. Neutral beige palate, expensive fixtures and a proliferation of arseholes in suits. It is the dining room of the Mandarin Oriental, one of London's most expensive hotels, after all. That being said, there are moments of zany Heston-ism scattered around; jelly moulds act as light fittings, the back bar is lit with gummi coloured bottles of booze and serried ranks of pineapples roast on a spit powered by the largest Swiss watch you'll ever see (I'll come back to those…).

It ain't another Fat Duck. Neither is it just a posh food pit for fat cats to roll around in. It's somewhere between the two, but mostly just a five star hotel restaurant. It's less complex than you'd expect. There's no nine course set tasting menu here (no tasting menu at all, unless you're in the Chef's Table overlooking the pass), just three simple courses, each with 8 or 10 options. Recipes aren't beset with foams and gels and carnival flourish, but are taken from the annals of British food history, the grand dishes served to our forefathers (or at least the forefathers belonging to the monied arseholes in suits).

As you'd expect, the prices are challenging in places, challenging to those not on expense account dining certainly. While there are a number of wines in the 28 page list below £100, the vast bulk of the list is pitched above this point (some considerably so), that being said, we found a very pleasant Fleurie at £45. More surprising is a three course lunch set menu at a very reasonable £28. I go for this while my guest plumps for the a la carte option. I've seen one too many reviews not to have heard of the Meat Fruit, a chicken liver parfait coated in mandarin gel, shaped and textured like a little mandarin. We add one of those to the table too, with the current waiting list at 6 months it's going to be a while before I'm back to try it again. My Ragoo of Pigs Ears is a real star. It's been braised for hours with sweet onion and parsley and the cartilage is sweet and soft, an intensely concentrated meaty kick. My guest goes for the Salamagundy, a perfectly constructed and flavoursome hot salad of chicken oysters, bone marrow and a light horseradish cream. If anything it's a little soft and texturally lacking, but that's not much to lay against it. And the Meat Fruit? It's a ball of chicken liver parfait. Strangely tasteless without the char of the sourdough. I don't think I saw a single table go without one though.

The Roast Quail from the set menu was another flavour triumph for my cheaper menu choice. The turnips served with it were subtly smoked and then roasted, just the sort of thing you hope for from Heston. Soft game breast worked well barely cooked, though the just cooked meat was remarkably difficult to separate from the tiny quail legs. The 72 hour slow roast rib of angus beef managed to arouse high passion on arrival, a thick lozenge of dark meat, served with a thick jus, cubes of ox tongue and baby veg. It was good, but certainly not brilliant. The meat had the texture of a hunk of salt beef, and was relatively one dimensional in its flavour. Definitely one that didn't live up to my hype.

That being said, we finished on a storming note, with the Tipsy Cake. A baked brioche, crystal studded with sugar, cooked in cream, Sauternes and brandy. It came served with a slice of the pineapple from earlier mentioned spit roast and my rapidly expiring heart. Pudding perfection from 1810; no wonder they had a life expectancy of less than 45 back then.

Never have I have been so excited about a new restaurant opening, having been lucky enough to have eaten at some the finest restaurants this was going be amazing and it all started so well – the overall restaurant was very much a hotel restaurant geared torwards business types great views over the park lighting a little harsh and the side views of the wall mounted pie dishes and their cheap White plates not so good and then to the food the bread was the best and my started the meat fruit was in every way perfect but then the main course and the wonderful Angus steak was not the soft deep flavour that it should have been but a soggy salty mass of meat that had the flavour washed out of it and the jus which should have been so deep and rich when poured on the plate had so much oil floating on the top it would not have looked out of place in the north sea had to return it to the kitchen and dessert the presentation of the brown bread ice cream was awful on a big White plate the biscuit was so hard the tipsy cake had sunk into the cast iron pot and the pineapple still had the skin on so impossible to eat. I hope this was a soft opening as I have never been so disappointed totally ruined my day

After reading a host of glowing reviews in the newspapers, I couldn't help feeling that there is an element of the Emperor's New Clothes about this restaurant. The food is very good – and you would expect that – but apart from the meat fruit, which is excellent and typical Blumenthal, it does not have the wow factor of the Fat Duck. The pigeon and pork chops we had were expertly done, but the desserts were boring. Frankly, any half decent chef could produce the rhubarb or the chocolate bar and ginger ice cream that we had. The decor is unremarkable and the ambience is of a noisy, big hotel restaurant. Service was superb – informal, friendly, skilled – and the staff genuinely seemed to enjoy working there, which made our meal most enjoyable; but although we had a good meal and enjoyed the experience, we won't be rushing back. This is a place to bring clients or friends, certainly not a romantic venue and if you can't hear dinner companions when there's background noise, don't bother coming. All in all, a bit of a disappointment after all the praise it won upon opening. P.S. – £150 a head and no amuse bouche? Come on Heston, give us some nibbles to accompany our expensive aperitifs!

after much anticipation, i manage to go there for lunch with a couple of mate. what a place! looks amazing, kitchen set up, restaurant view etc.. just great. The rest however wasn't always up to top standard. the service efficient but not fantastic. food was overall good but a few deatils like the slow cook rib @ £28 was tiny and a touch fatty, the garnish served with it was over glazed and the sauce too salty. For pudding, I had the pineapple with cake, the pinaapple was a touch over caramelized (rotisserie for too long) we also had a lemon pudding which did not hit the spot (pastry was dry). i will try it again as i think this might just still be teething problems. would recommend to anyone, great view, great setting food will get better I'm sure.

I went to the restaurant on day three after its opening.
We were told to come at 12 noon which seemed a bit early. It was infuriating to arrive and then see an empty restaurant, so I hope this wont be a typical ploy for two eating sessions.
We were seated next to the windows giving a lovely view of Hype Park.
My husband had a vodka martini which at £15 I guess is standard hotel price.
The waiter was very attentive — in fact there were dozens of staff members with few customers so you felt a bit ‘watched’ as you ate.
I opted for the price fixed lunch — three courses for £28 (only available at lunch) which sounded like good value.
The starter I chose was a lemon and goat's cheese salad – plain but much too much lemon.
My husband had ala carte — the ‘rice and flesh’ which was like a risotto with calf tail and red wine. It was excellant.
For the main course, I ordered salmon – again off the price fixed menu — which was, as it said, salmon with beetroot. Nothing special. My husband ordered the pork chop (the turkey pudding which he would have ordered was not available). It was a bit on the tough side and again, nothing out of the ordinary – a grilled pork chop. he ordered french fries on the side which were nice and crispy.
They were pushing the tipsy cake for desert but it had to be ordered in advance so I opted for an orange buuter loaf cake with orange sorbet which was excellant and my husband had a lemon and caramel pudding with cream which was very good.
I think Giles Coren in the Times was a bit OTT – he worked with heston so I guess he is biased. I felt the meal was fine, nothing extraordinary, and certainly not the best new restaurant in London or anywhere else. I can't say any of it was a sensation on the tastebuds.