Lunch at Launceston Place

Yesterday @titianred treated me to lunch - and it was the opportunity for us to both sample the delights of Launceston Place. The restaurant first came to my attention when the lovely Steve Groves, sous chef there, won Celebrity Masterchef last year. His food was amazing, and after he won, he chose to stay as he said he was learning so much. And food bloggers have written delighted posts about the place. We spent a very happy morning goggling in the jewellery gallery at the V&A and, appetites aroused, staggered across to leafy Launceston Place, standing quietly in a leafy corner of South Ken. Comfortably seated next to the window, we perused both lunch menus but stuck to budget with the three course £20 lunch. Astonishing value, as it turned out. Before our starters arrived, we were presented with an amuse bouche of yoghurt sorbet and lightly pickled diced cucumber. This boded well, as the icey silkiness disappeared.

Then the bread - a lovely sourdough - and butter arrived. We suspected that the butter-on-a-pebble is a Launceston Place tease to see which customers can perfect butter balancing. Our butter slid from side to side but did stay put.

Was it yoghurt sorbet or ice cream? Not sure, but it was lovely. And soon gone. The starters arrived as soon as we were finished. Henri had gone with a beef, beet and wild garlic rissotto. With a bone that looked just like my father's napkin ring.

Henri was uttering quiet squeaks of joy. I sneaked a mouthful and it was fabulous, with melting marrow and an intense blast of flavour. Henri took a bite of my starter and said, 'That's lovely, but I'm glad I'm having mine,' which is exactly how I felt.

I'd chosen the duck egg on toast with Somerset truffle and boy, was it good. The egg was besides, rather than on, toast, and it was surrounded with shaved truffle and wonderous truffle goo. Not so much a up front whack on the taste buds but more a shimmer round the palate then insinuating itself into the memory and inducing a desire for more. Heavenly. Contender for best plate of food I've had this year.

Henri's main was saltmarsh lamb, herb consomme and pomme purees. I think we'd both expected this to turn up as lamb carved off the bone - but no, it was a lamb turret, crowned with herbal crust. Henri loved it - meltingly tender meat perfectly complemented by the crusty top and herb consomme.

Meanwhile, I was tucking into Cornish mackeral, cured cucumber and pickled onions. Someone spent a very long time pin-boning the fish which was cooked with a fine crisp skin and worked beautifully with the cucumber. The acidity of the onions worked well but I did miss a fruity punch to finish off the dish. But a lovely plate of food. With the main plates whipped away, we were offered a tiny jar of a most luscious lemon possett. We wolfed this down so quickly that there was no time to take a photo.

For pud, we both went with the dark chocolate and  raspberry mousse - a wonderful concoction with shiny raspberry lightness over sugared berries and a dense and serious chocolate base. We were given big spoons but unanimously demanded smaller ones so that we could make the sensation last.  

Reeling with the pleasure of it, we were left giggling when we were presented with plate of two jars - baby madeleines warm from the oven and egg white-lightened cream. Ohmygod. Delicious and almost too much for two full tums. Almost - we did our best to demolish this last delight.

I love this place. The food was gorgeous, the service was superb, and I think it's the first time ever that the bill has arrived exactly when you want it. It's the kind of place that you rave about in the office the next day - which I did.

Thank you Henri for a marvellous lunch, and to Launceston Place for living up to all expectations.

Crab two ways and an allotment harvest

Last week I was so taken with Jason Atherton's Maze Cookbook that I bought it, having glimpsed a couple of fantastic crab recipes. As I have the lovely @titianred staying (which involves much boozy putting the world to rights and listening to Leonard Cohen), I had the perfect opportunity to put crab to pan. The first recipe was for crab chowder, involving the underrated brown crab meat. The lovely guys at Seafood and Eat it sell the most wonderful crabmeat and once again provided the protein.

First there's a serious stock to put together: leek, shallot, carrot and garlic are sweated in rapeseed oil (Jason specifies onion and olive oil but hey, I go with what I have). Then when the veg are wilted and golden, it's in with the spice mixture - star anice, lemongrass, parsley and basil stalks, coriander seed and peppercorns.

And I popped in a couple of sprigs of Thai basil from the garden.

Then I added a good squirt of tomato puree and a glass of white wine. The scent was beginning to get really very good.

Next in is a good jug of homemade chicken stock and the mixture bubbles gently for 20 minutes. Strain the stock through a seive, pressing the veggies and spices down to extract all the flavour and then the soup goes back on the heat for the addition of the brown crab meat and double cream, and a final adjustment of salt.

Oh boy. This is an amazingly good recipe. I added a spoonful of white crab meat at the bottom of the bowl before laddeling in the soup. Crab heaven and a noble end for a fine crustacean. We slurped it down.

The second crab dish was a crab toastie - good, but not quite reaching the heights of the chowder. Mix white crab meat with mayo, cream cheese, a dash of soy sauce and a sprinkle of cayenne. Jason's recipe tells you to bake in an oven at gas mark 3 for 10 minutes, but I wasn't quite convinced, so I toasted the bread on one side then pile the crab mixture on the white side and grilled it till bubbling. A good dish but not as good as the soup. But a pretty good supper.

Meanwhile, down on the allotment, life has sprung back into the veg now that we've had some rain. The runner beans - Painted Lady - are going great guns.

I'm so proud of my squash - they're ripening nicely in shades of orange and yellow and green. And we even have a volunteer squash that's sprouted out of the second compost bay.

And after a couple of months of sulking in the heat, the courgette plants have sprung into action, providing the most delicious fruit. I've never loved courgettes until this year.

There are toms and garlic - and a couple of ears of corn from my lovely lottie neighbour Mark. An autumn of mellow fruitfulness.