db eats: Kaspar’s

Choosing ‘plus ones’ for restaurant reviews is always a feat of tact and diplomacy. Choosing who would accompany me to Kaspar’s in The Savoy, however, was an easy choice.

An avid cat fan and die-hard seafood enthusiast, my mother was the obvious candidate. And taking your mother for dinner in The Savoy’s most recent – and much acclaimed restaurant named after the hotel / institution’s celebrated ‘14th guest’ cat – is never going to go awry.

As it was, I have earned myself some serious brownie points.

With Pol Roger by the glass as we perused the menu and warm and personable service, the evening boded well. Our waiter, a chatty and well informed gentleman called Henry happily talked us through the menu, the origins of Kaspar, as well as the design particularities of the restaurant (like the hand-carved Portuguese ‘stalectites’ round the oyster bar), while never being intrusive.

Truth be told, the Pol didn’t help with the menu which offered an agonising choice between hot grilled dishes, cold smoked or cured fish or other assorted mains, although it has now pushed my mother’s traditionally favoured Bollinger from its ‘top Champagne’ place. While umming and erring over the options for the mains, we settled on our starters of tuna tartar and half a lobster.

One of the most impressive things about Kaspar’s is the astounding by-the-glass selection on the menu. Almost everything – even top notch Champagnes – was included, which gives diners a great opportunity to be selective and creative with their food and wine pairings. Like a child in a candy store, I spent a good while lapping up the options on the menu, ultimately deciding upon the Stag’s Leap Karia Chardonnay. I was in two minds about what to have with the main, torn between the Chassagne Montrachet Chenevottes 2008, and the Louis Latour Meursault 2010. The sommelier duly came to my aide, and talked me through the two options. My main consideration was how spicy one of our mains – the monkfish kebabs, was going to be. I presumed not terribly as monk fish is quite delicate, but nevertheless I was keen not to interfere with the wine.

The sommelier decided to help me chose through the medium of tasting, and produced both bottles for me to sample from. As it was, I was no better for the tasting. The Latour was zesty, bright and refreshing, and incredibly moreish. It was lighter than I was expecting with a lot of tightly coiled energy in it. The Chassagne was exactly what I thought it would be – stately, elegant and extremely well made with a seamless progression from gentle green fruit to soft minerality. The star of the show, however, was the utterly breath taking Stag’s Leap which was earthy and brooding with soft hay and bread notes carefully balanced by fresh, lovely acidity.

Equally breathtaking, however, were the prices for the wines, but then again if you are having incredibly smart Napa Chardonnay or top white Burgundy, it’s never going to be cheap – and moreover it’s almost never going to be available by the glass. So while not wallet friendly, it’s worth taking the hit and treating yourself to a glass of something really astounding, in the knowledge that in most places you’d only get close to that in bottle form.

So, armed with our sum total of five glasses of wine set before us (two Stag’s Leap, two Chassagne Montrachets and one small glass of Meursault for tasting – which my mother described as a wine with a “power of seduction that no woman can resist”. Hark, all ye men… ), we were ready for the food.

The tuna tartar was rich and unctuous, in sizeable chunks that positively melted in the mouth. The portion size was spot on, leaving me with a suitably whetted appetite. The lobster, served reclining on a bed of ice with a kelp blanket underneath, was fresh and juicy, according to my plus one. The Stag’s Leap was warming and bright with the tuna, while apparently wasn’t as keen a match with the lobster – however the Pol Roger which was lingering worked very well with it.

For the main, the siren song of the grilled star anise salmon and peppered monk fish was almost too much, but in the end the grilled selection proved the more tempting so we settled for the Dover sole and the monkfish kebabs.

The monkfish kebabs summed up for me what the restaurant and its new chef are trying to do – create fun, accessible dishes, but with The Savoy’s signature use of the finest and freshest with a nod to creativity and originality. The large skewers of meat which came with a generous helping of buttery sauce were filling and delicious. The texture of the meat was firm and meaty, and the gentle cumin flavouring added an intriguing note that kept you coming back for more.

On the other end of the scale was the very traditional Dover sole which was very simply taken from the grill, boned, skinned and served. Delicate and flavoursome to the utmost, this simple dish demonstrated the excellent artistry of carefully chosen ingredients and keen understanding of how things should be cooked to bring out the best in something. The two dishes were very different and therefore hard to compare, but both were excellent. The Dover sole’s price demonstrated the quality of the produce, but still was a little on the steep side. The kebabs, however, were very reasonably priced, especially considering the quality, quantity and the venue.

The overall feel of the place, we decided while letting our sizeable mains go down, was a little bit like a super-luxury fishmonger; black and white tiling, ice-like chandeliers, even a blue and turquoise rippled carpet. It lent the place a fun and informal air while all the while being comfortable and exclusive. The lady at the table next to us even appeared to have been briefed and was wearing a shell motif dress. IT was informal, classy and comfortable. It would be an ideal situation for a second date – great food, service and atmosphere, but the place has a sense of somewhat invigorating immediacy to it that makes somewhere where you would not stay for much longer than dinner, with the promise of drinks in one of the sumptuous bars just inches away, or a show in the West End.

After dissecting the exact feel of the place, we felt ready for dessert. I went for the strawberry and elderflower cream, while my mother was wooed by the very attractive cheese list broken down by cheese styles. Normally living in France, she was keen to try the English cheeses, although was dubious as to whether it would out do her much loved French cheeses. As it was, she was astounded by the variation – and quality of the English cheeses on offer, especially the rustic presentation on a wooden board with generous slices of quince preserve. My light and summery elderflower and strawberry cream had that slightly disconcerting quality of feeling almost healthy, which might have been the reason for the utterly unnecessary glass of Tamar Ridge Botrytis Riesling, 2010, which was a perfect accompaniment to the blue cheese in particular as well as my fruity cream.

True to our assessment of the place, after finishing our meal, we headed off to the decadent Beaufort Bar afterwards for a digestif. The dim lighting, soft divans and gentle piano made for a dangerous setting where much time and money could be spent without trying. As it was, we restrained ourselves to one cocktail before making our way home after a truly excellent evening out.

All in all this was more than a meal, given the sheer opulence of the venue and the adjoining bars. The food is very reasonably priced (all things considered), although the wine prices are fairly lofty. But, with such gems available by the glass, it’s very easy to justify the costs to yourself. We are also very keen to find eleven people willing to join us for lunch or dinner there just so we can have the pleasure of Kaspar’s company at the table. Any takers?