I have thought about writing blog posts on restaurants I have visited before, but never managed to put fingers to keypad. Of course, this has now changed. The blogs I had in mind previously for my culinary musings would have focused on the service (or lack of) but this post is designed to highlight and praise what is probably now my favourite restaurant in London, and one of my favourite in the UK: C London.
Formerly called ‘The Cipriani’, it was forced to change its name to the present title due to a law suit from the Italian hotel (which also owns this restaurant… bizarrely). Situated in Mayfair’s Davies Street, the restaurant is (I discovered subsequently) a favourite of television and music mogul Simon Cowell, and a regular haunt of many A-list celebrities. There weren’t any slebs in when I ate, presumably that was because I was the token sleb at the time (please note the irony).
The restaurant is Italian in theme and like many good authentic Italian restaurants up and down the land they seem to employ half of Italy as their waiting staff. This is not strictly a negative as it does mean efficient and conscientious service, but I often find that it can mean the ‘dining experience’ is over before it has even begun. Maybe I am just fussy as I also don’t like sitting for hours for the food to be brought out, but there is an art in perfecting the timing of the diners’ service.
The one concern I always have with quick service of the food is that it hasn’t been prepared fresh. My mother would always say about late service, ‘well, at least it means it is fresh’. Quite true, and I did slightly question whether the food at C London was as fresh as it could be seeing as it seemed to fly out the kitchen before the waiter had even taken our order.
Any reservations I may have had were quelled when I tucked into Sausage Tagliarelle. The sausage meat had been squeezed out of the sausage skin and gently fried so it melted in the mouth. The pasta was fresh (of course) and a very light sauce coated the pasta. I also tried the Veal Milanese, which was tender and succulent.
I have a very sweet tooth and sadly I did not have time to sample any of their puddings. That said, I find that Italian restaurants generally have a consistently poor selection of puddings – tiramisu, summer pudding, gelati. Although at C London I did glimpse mention of a crepe on their website, so I shall retain judgment on the pudding front until my return visit in a few days.
The interior design is awash with bronze and off-bronze colours. Copper-tinted mirrors clad the bar area, reflecting the 1930s inspired décor. The dining tables and chairs are lower than your average restaurant, which can be off-putting at first, as to a first-time diner it felt a tad like Alice in Wonderland, but it helps the congenial and laid back atmosphere that is synonymous with Italian dining.
Reading this review back it may seem to draw upon negatives and flaws too much, but the fact that I can only pick out one or two minor ones means that it is good: I’m quite critical. The prices are not that expensive for London standards, but it is certainly not cheap. The quality of food one gets and the overall pleasure from eating there is worth the slightly steep prices: if one got more on the plate then they might be justified. But it won’t stop me from going back for more.
Long Time No Blog
Wednesday, August 4th, 2010Yes, all right. I realise I haven’t filed a blog in a few weeks. I was fully aware of this, but when my 13-year-old cousin, Harry, rang me this evening and said ‘can I remind you that you haven’t done a blog since the 15th July, William?’ I felt that perhaps I should pen something to fill you all in on what’s been happening.
I am preparing to go on holiday with all my family (including the aforementioned cousin) to Italy as of this Friday. We are going to Le Marche region of the country; I don’t usually get excited before holidays, Christmases or birthdays but for some reason for this summer’s holiday I am really very excited and super hyped. It will probably be dreadful – I always find that the greater the anticipation, the bigger the disappointment.
I’ve been spending the last couple of weeks down south. I was in London a fortnight ago (I blogged about that, as regular readers will know), but it was my mother’s birthday on one weekend, and I also had a few other family commitments I had to be down here for so I decided that rather than bouncing up and down the country, I’d just stay in one place until after Italy, when I shall return to Manchester.
Sadly, being down south does mean that I come face-to-face with the gym and my trainer. In fact, I have a new trainer. No, I am not that un-fit and flabby that I need two instructors, but my normal trainer Andy has been taking some time off to spend with his new child so on the days that he is not there, I have Tom, who is equally as good a task-master as Andy. As I type I have just finished making Tom and Andy a cheesecake – I do feel I should be making them a salad, not a calorific pudding, but I have decided that I shall fatten them up in order to make me look slimmer.
They have me doing runs/jogs/canters/walks/crawls. I don’t like going out on the public roads as there is a risk of people seeing me who I know (or that know me). I don’t really want to bump into someone when I am a sweaty, lolloping mess. Every time we pass someone I know I have to shout ‘I’m training him!’ whilst pointing at Andy or Tom. I don’t think the passers-by believe me for a second, but I am sure someone will one day.
I went for a run around the country lanes where my parents live this morning, safe in the knowledge that I know very few people in the immediate area (partly as there are very few houses!). How wrong I was. Five minutes in and I bump into Her Majesty’s Lord Lieutenant for Bristol, who lives two houses away from my parents and whom we know. I hope she doesn’t report her sighting of me in my jogging gear to Her Majesty; I’d imagine the Knighthood will be off.
Biscotti
Culinary-wise, I’ve made two cheesecakes, but also some biscotti. Something I’ve never made before but had always wanted to try. I have to say, for someone who has never made them before, I am very pleased with the results. It did take me 4 hours (one has to cook the biscotti twice – indeed that is what ‘biscotti’ means: twice baked). The recipe was for 60. I really should have scaled it down. My parents and I now have biscotti coming out of every airtight container in the house. I’ve been taking biscotti round to every social engagement (however informal) just to get rid of it by the time we go to Italy… the home of biscotti!
I shall endeavor to blog from Italy… but I’m not promising anything. That said, my cousin will be with me, so I’m sure he’ll remind me.
Tags: baking, biscotti, cheesecake, cooking, cousin, diary, etiquette, family, fitness, gym, holiday, Italy, Le Marche, manners, protocol, pudding, running, social commentator, summer, The Queen, william hanson
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