Excited about eating at this highly-rated city spot again, last night was not what I had hoped. First off was their unsatisfactory reservations system. I left a message requesting a table, missed their return call, called back only to find that I did not have a reservation and had to make another for a time that was less suitable. Of course I may not even have got a table. The place looked pretty shabby (though it’s always gone for that inner-city cool “grunge” thing) and there was a malodour wafting in and out all evening (which they probably had no control over to be fair). Service was confident but perfunctory and often missing, on other tables aperitif glasses remained on the table way into mains. My starter duck was stringy and tough, but they dealt with this complaint well; while my lamb main was very good. One of the strengths of the experience here is the highly creative plating; while the confusing menu, with adjectives spilt under a heading like “lamb,” makes it hard to know what you’re in for. The night was summed up by my friend D’s response to his “chocolate landscape” dessert that he hardly touched: “I’ve got agoraphobia.”
