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Gran Paradiso; Rene's
WHAT a time to write about restaurants: the first week in Lent, no less. Firm friends kindly state that it is part of the job to drink with the food; the less firm point out there is such a thing as water, fizzy or otherwise. They are only too right, of course, but it ain't the same.
I shall start on home ground with my local Italian restaurant, which I love and rely on, always welcoming, always good, and much admired by any friends I have led there.
Gran Paradiso (52 Wilton Road, SW1, tel. 828 5818) lies on the boundary of Pimlico and Westminster, in Wilton Road, running parallel with Vauxhall Bridge Road. Unlike my beautiful predecessor Nigella I have the 'knowledge' of Pimlico; it is my manor, my village, market, laun- derette and all. The restaurant is owned and run by Sandro Maldini and his charm- ing wife Uschi with professional flair and imagination.
The chairs are comfortable and the tables set well apart from each other, a great bonus I think. The pasta is freshly made by an expert, late of the Meridiana in Enzo Appicello's good old days. Last week we started with a tortelloni stuffed with spinach and highly spiced meats in a simple tomato sauce, which could not have been better. It was tender and succulent, the speciality of that day.
This was followed by a delicious brace of quail sitting on a nest of near black mushroom risotto, surrounded by field mushrooms and little onions. A fine and generous dish. My mate who likes only things crispate had the crispy roast duck with a bitter orange sauce accompanied by perfect sauté potatoes, fried zucchini and lovely little green beans, with which he was delighted. He then had a glorious tropical salad of mangoes, papaya and other such exotica while I settled for an enormous slice of proper gorgonzola.
Washed down with a bottle of Bardolino Ca'Bordenis at £7, mineral water and the excellent espresso coffee, the meal came to £41.10, without a service charge. The service in fact is very good and gracefully executed by Portuguese waiters. Choco- lates and amaretti in plenty come with the coffee.
If you feel like a lesser meal before or after a cinema or theatre perhaps, there is a dish of pasta with an enormous salad of mixed leaves, fennel, radicchio, endive, etc, at the special price of £5.50. The salads here are consistently good, well dressed and plentiful.
There is always a fine fish, grilled prawns or a seafood composition available, and the usual grills and chicken dishes. The homemade ice-creams vary, coconut, pas- sion fruit or mango. Very sumptuous.
Rene's at Club Royale (11 White Horse Street, W1, tel. 493 1977) advertises itself as 'the only American restaurant in Lon- don with no hamburgers'. The evening we went it was empty save for one other table. Having entered through vast pretentious doors into this wilderness of napery and glass, we were seated opposite a lavatory and a tape recorder near the door (to encourage any autres who might appear, I suppose — they didn't).
My guest had an assorted seafood platter containing a cherrystone clam, a blue point oyster, prawns and a slice of smoked salmon wrapped around some crab perfectly all right. I had frogs' legs which I had supposed to have leapt from some American swamp but subsequently disco- vered came frozen from Thailand, rather tough and floating in a huge pool of melted butter.
Main courses for us were king prawns stuffed with crab (my friend is a fish-eater) and abalone meuniere, which was extreme- ly tender, but had very little taste and far too much butter again. A blandly dressed green salad and some rather good cubed fried potatoes accompanied this repast. We had no desserts; I had coffee and friend had tisane. With the cheapest bottle of wine, a Vouvray at £8 (the wine list is exorbitant), mineral water and one whisky the bill came to a staggering £86.08, including service and cover charge. We were offered after-dinner drinks on the house, which was kind, but we de- clined. There is a dessert trolly of Amer- ican apple strudel with ice-cream, profiter- oles and tarts, etc, all made on the premis- es. I don't like to think what they would have cost. There is also 'a typical business- man's lunch' advertised for £9.95. I wonder what it would cost in the end. The service was attentive, and why not? But the atmosphere is slightly ominous and smack- ing of bicycle parts.
Jennifer Paterson
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