Well, this was not really a place I wanted to go to but HI was quite keen, and since he doesn't get out much I though I would give in. The thought of a plate of oxen heart, or tripe, or squirrel on toast doesn't really do it for me, but HI seems to like the idea. I think he really is the curious eater.
St John has two locations, the original in the Smithfield's area and a smaller bread and wine concern in Spittalfield's. The Smithfield's one is huge, with a downstairs that was packed and had a good buzz about it, and an upstairs which was quieter but still busy.
Fortunately we know a lot of folk that like 'Nose to tail eating' so we had a table for 6 for dinner, maximising the number of dishes we could have.
Now, I know it's a bit gauche to get excited when you see a celebrity but, Jamie Oliver, my new favorite person was there too with Dexter Fletcher!, sitting at the table next to us!
We tried not to ogle Jamie, and instead concentrated on the offerings on hand.
We started off with some oysters and champagne, and so eager were we to get them down our throats that I forgot to take a photo. They were good.
Five out of the six of us ordered the bone marrow
and I was the only one to buck the trend by ordering the potted duck neck, which was very tasty if a bit salty.
The bone marrow went down a treat as you can see from the photos.
But I couldn't help thinking that without the salt and the parsley it would just have been jelly fat.
Tasty jelly fat. Which I suppose is what it is.
For mains HI had the chitterlings as did Phil, and all I can say is I am glad I didn't.
Instead John, Marcus and I set to about the veal shin, which was meant to feed four.
I was ridiculed for being surprised at how large it was. I guess I always imagined baby cows like the ones they have in Southpark, and expected them to be small.
My sis went for the oxtail and I guess it reflected how drunk we all were that I didn't snaffle a bit. I was too distracted by the large hunk of meat in front of me.
Our server was a very efficient and accommodating lady called Kirsty. She didn't bat an eyelid when I requested, somewhat tipsily, that I have clotted cream with my chocolate cake as well as ice-cream.
My sis went for the blood orange jelly which I remember being an altogether more adult version of the type I had at school, vibrant intense and refreshing.
She also brought us a taster of all the puddings wines which was a clever move on her part.
She must have realised that my friend John has expensive taste and even in a blind tasting would automatically pick the most expensive- Vitriol Rouge £11.75. I went with my tried and trusted friend Pedro-£5.10.
At the end of the night we were full and happy. Full of meat, booze and good cheer.
Which was just as well as the bill worked out around 70 quid each! But given how much we ate, drank and enjoyed ourselves justifiable.
Would I go back? I think I would.
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1 comment:
"Well, this was not really a place I wanted to go"
Please stop writing about food, as an innocent reader may confuse you with someone who likes and knows about eating.
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