Peter Calder
WINE LIST: Extensive,
with a moderately priced by-the-glass selection.
VEGETARIANS: Are well served – there's
even a vego tasting menu.
WATCH OUT FOR: Odd animals - ostriches
and rabbit. A good place to get adventurous.
BOTTOM LINE: Exquisite if pricey
food; cool, calm service. What more could you want?
Restaurant reviewers crave anonymity. If we are recognised, there's a good chance we will get better treatment than the old fish or the offhand discourtesies visited on so many diners around town. We may, as a result, give a better account of the place than it deserves.
I have adopted the habit of making a reservation under the blonde's surname which I would call common if it were not hers. This can backfire, of course, if you show up late for a date. I once booked under this assumed name for a lunch with a mate. He arrived early and unprepared for the ruse. He waved to me from the table as I entered. "Mr Calder, i presume," the maitre d' asked, with an expression of thinly disguised triumph.
So I was a little anxious when we arrived at The Grove and the third member of our party hadn't shown yet. The blonde said she'd keep an eye out for him, stop him from asking for me by name. But he was, two steps ahead of us both. He was positively cantering when he came through the door and barely waved to the staff as he made a beeline for our table. "I had an idea you would want to be undercover," he said , as he sat down. "I would have said I didn't know your surname and asked to look around." I rather think such cloak and dagger was unnecessary at The Grove. This is a place where they take trouble over the details while never lose sight of the big picture and it strikes me they'd do it right for anyone.
The restaurant is housed in the big, upstairs space that was home to the late, lamented Le Brie, in between its two incarnations in the area now known as The Chancery. The room is plain and airy – it was full the night we went, though I fancy it could be a bit echoing if it were empty – and the staff move through it with an unobtrusive efficiency.
This last point matters a lot. Food arrives at the table quite without fanfare but escorted by two or even three people.
One will be carrying the plates while the others ride shotgun on the whole procedure, replenishing water, moving stuff.
As one who mostly orders wine by the glass, I am often exasperated by the inability of restaurants to make wine and food arrive at the same time. Sometimes the delay is such that they barely arrive in the same week. At the Grove they've taken care of that. The ostrich and the pinot noir the waiter has suggested to accompany it, landed within seconds of each other.
All this, accomplished quite without fuss, is in service not only of the customer, but also of the chef, ensuring that food is received and appreciated as it was conceived and presented.
Chef Michael Meredith (formerly of the the incomparable Vinnies in Herne Bay) deals in bright, clean tastes. His dishes are artistry without artifice at all and the eating is simple but sublime. Highlights from our evening included a prawn ravioli served with sprigs of blood pudding (an unlikely but very happy marriage), the whole dressed in a frothy lobster bisque; and a main of succulent pork confit topped with a square of perfect crackling that our canny guest, a man not given to overstatement, said was the best pork he'd ever eaten. The blonde, a fish fanatic, was less impressed with a snapper special which she found bland and a shade overcooked, but when she took a mouthful of her dessert – a yoghurt parfait – she cheered up.
If the details of the rest don't linger, it's
because I was so engrossed in the conversation.
That's as it should be. The Grove hums but
you have the sense of dining alone. They are
doing the work. You just have to enjoy.
