Apicius

Jonesy ( 30s, Male, London )

A starter of deep fried cod brandade with a parmesan crisp, rocket salad and aioli was a delicate concoction belaying an experienced hand and palate. The brandade, a posh fishcake, was juicy and meaty; the aioli was good enough to eat a bucketful (not recommended on a first date).

The main course, a slow roast shoulder of Kentish pork accompanied by crunchy crackling, creamed potato, Savoy cabbage and caramelised apples, was as delicious as it sounds. The maitre d’, Mrs Johnson, told us that nobody makes mashed potato like her husband. And she was right.

By now I was finding it hard to contain my excitement about the dessert. Enter stage left, chocolate and crème fraiche mousse with Bailey’s ice cream and a spiced orange ‘soup’. The nail was hit squarely on the head once again. In the words of the greedy Valentine Warner, “Wow, wow…Wow.”

At £29.95 for three courses of this quality, you can’t help feeling that something magical really is at work here. It’s not only the food and the service that surpass all expectations, even the little dining room manages to feel larger than it is, without losing any of its intimacy.

Read the full review at The Arbuturian.