Restaurant Sat Bains with Rooms

Robus (30s, Male, Nottingham/London)

Saturday, 7th February 2009

Sat Bains' food had the critics drooling for some time before I'd got round to eating there, my wife and I giving ourselves a birthday treat in June 2008. The food had blown us away, but we were relatively new to the Michelin experience then, spending most of the evening grinning like idiots as we scoffed a dozen delicately-cooked, elegantly-arranged dishes. We returned in February with high expectations, this time to experience the tasting room in a party of six.

You've probably already read stories about Restaurant Sat Bains being situated ‘under a flyover’, but that description only tells half the story. Ignore the background traffic noise and the setting – including a handful of bedrooms around a gravel courtyard – is actually quite tranquil. Inside is a cosy, candlelit reception bar, leading through to a dining area split into one room and a conservatory. The tasting room itself is separated by a sliding door, and connects to the tiny, pristine kitchen via another one, allowing the noise and excitement of service to spill in. This informal atmosphere was perfect for us, particularly as some of our group had reservations about whether a stiff restaurant experience was for them.

So, to the food: a plate of snacks that we were instructed to eat left to right brought a foamy parsnip soup topped with wild rice, a spoonful of raw tuna with ponzu and mooli, sticks of breadcrumbed salt cod and pig's head and finally a palette-cleansing block of compressed watermelon with ricotta. The first dish was a scallop, with small chunks of apple, compressed apple, bitter chicory leaves and watercress. This was followed by crabmeat, bound by a rich duck egg, overlaid with thinly-sliced turnip, ice cream and croutons, finished with a drizzle of brown butter.

The purity of these dishes was contrasted by a jar of rich, sweet duck liver and sweetcorn velouté, with caramelised popcorn and gingerbread, followed by veal sweetbreads with broccoli, a broccoli puree and crushed hazelnut. The final savoury course was small hunks of beautifully-cooked woodpigeon, with squash and a smear of dark chocolate – although by this point the details were starting to get a little hazy thanks to some intriguiing selections by our friendly sommelier.

We shared a plate of potent local cheeses before enjoying what the restaurant calls the ‘crossover’ course: blue cheese on a thin crispy toast with a cube of compressed pineapple. In other words, cheese & pineapple! The courses continued in this dainty, vaguely camp vein with a rack of white chocolate and beetroot mivvis, complete with sticks. After this, the curiously ugly ‘anti-griddle’ machine in the corner of the room came into play; dark chocolate and rose-petal rounds were chilled on its surface and popped into our mouths… More