Counting stars over The Capital
By Alex Larman, published on 13 June 2011
Under its former chef Eric Chavot, Knightsbridge’s Capital Hotel’s restaurant gained an enviable international reputation and two Michelin stars. One of the many pleasures of a visit there was that the atmosphere and impeccable French-accented service, which made visitors feel as if they’d magically been whisked over to the Continent for a lavish and highly satisfying lunch. Then Chef Chavot left, and there was a sharp intake of breath from the city’s fine diners at the prospect of being deprived of one of London’s quintessentially Gallic experiences.
The appointment in late 2009 of Jérôme Ponchelle, who was faced with the daunting task of continuing a legacy that would be tricky for all but the most gifted chefs to live up to, met with interest and approval from most food enthusiasts, but it took time for the change to become fully assimilated, perhaps inevitably. However on a recent lunchtime visit, it was quite clear that M. Ponchelle’s cooking has settled in extremely well. More in thrall to the conventional high style of classic cuisine than M. Chavot’s, perhaps, it’s still an excellent meal.
After a perfect, crisp aperitif of Jacquart champagne, and some superb focaccia, the meal began in earnest. My starter of foie gras ravioli, leek and black truffle was unashamedly rich, decadent and complex, in the grand tradition of French excess. It made a similar dish I had at the Georges V in Paris seem anaemic in comparison. My friend had a salad of white crab meat with guacamole, an apparently bizarre combination that worked delectably in practice. Wine matching was done with finesse; a crisp glass of Sauvignon Blanc for him, a Puligny-Montrachet for me. So far, so excellent.
Thankfully, main courses – so often an over-egged disappointment in places of this nature – continued the high standards. My medallion of veal was very nearly perfect, a rich explosion of flavours (including the more than welcome return of the foie gras) and velvety textures that came about as close to flattering the excellent cut of meat as it deserved. My guest’s escalope of salmon was as light and delicate as mine was robust and businesslike. A superb glass of Nuits-St-Georges claret was a more than fitting accompaniment.
By now, my innate critical sense was almost itching for something to go wrong. But no; the staff were friendly and accommodating but never too much, the room’s soft, almost feminine decor belied the gutsy richness of some of the cuisine, and even the sun was shining outside. And as if to thwart me further, desserts – often an afterthought, even at high-calibre establishments, were exemplary. My chocolate degustation, somehow managing to combine fondant, caramel and vinegar ice cream (which worked far better than it sounds) was a thing of wonder, and my companion’s strawberry and basil millefeuille seemed perfectly suited to the blessed weather.
As we departed, metaphorically (oh, alright, and literally)loosening our belts, there was only one real topic of conversation.
‘So, that used to have two Michelin stars, didn’t it?’ my friend mused.
‘Indeed. And now it doesn’t.’
My friend, a habitué of fine dining restaurants across the globe, sniffed. ‘I’ve been to restaurants with three stars that were less good.’
And with that, the matter was dropped.
The Capital Restaurant, 22 Basil St, SW3 020 7591 1202.
Counting stars over The Capital
Long the source of heated debate amongst foodies, the real value of the sometimes-reverred Michelin star once again comes into question as we visit The Capital. Alex Larman’s dining companion reckons some restaurants with three stars aren’t as good as this.
The Prodigal Fool
15 June 2011
For the love of God, who edits this rag!? Nuits St Georges, a claret? Last time I checked my atlas, it was still firmly in Burgandy.
Oh wait, I edit this rag, don’t I?