the five fields

i had dinner last night at this place with my girlfriend and i must say it was atimeworth remembering. they have a very wide range of wines. everything on the menu looked do great. i ordered lamb (yorkshire lamb) and it was delicious and beautifully presented. once ordered dessert we were served a sorbet melon to remove the strong flavors of the main dishes; the dessert was an ice cream milk of goats served with red beets and white chocolate. the atmosphere and quality of service are the two thing added to the list which makes you want to visit this place again.

this was actually the secondtimei'd sat down in the dining room at five fields. unfortunately on our first visit a power cut meant no sooner had we got settled than a very apologetic front of house had to find us a short notice table elsewhere; a very minor inconvenience for us (particularly considering the alternative was the wonderful medlar) but a disaster for them, losing an evening's full house of bookings and god knows how much food spoilage. this isn't actually the firsttimei've had a booking cancelled because of a power cut - it seems to happen in soho a hell of a lot; maybe it's the rats - and i'm reliably informed that compensation from the energy companies is rare to completely non-existant. which seems desperately unfair.

anyway a return date was soon found and here we finally were, nibbling on pleasant amuses of foie gras paté and fresh crab. i can't remember many canapés that have really set my heart racing; it seems to me that you'd be silly to waste an opportunity to start dinner with a bang, and yet most restaurants seem to settle for a couple of mouthfuls of comfort food. which isn't to say they weren't welcome, of course, just a bit disappointing.

pre-starter of onion consommé continued the theme; nice but fairly ordinary. the cube of soft gruyere had a gentle earthy flavour and having a chunk of sweet pickled onion floating around was at least unusual, but the broth itself was really no better than the french onion soup at zedel, a restaurant with no pretentious to fine dining and - to say the least - in a rather different price bracket.  

but then the bread arrived and all of a sudden the journey was worth it. this buttermilk-based invention is, without a shadow of a doubt, the best house bread i've encountered in a very long time, although perhaps it's not technically "bread" at all, more of a savoury pastry. inside a brittle, golden brown crust were soft curls of soft, sweet brioche, steaming warm from the oven, just the most perfect texture inside and out. alain ducasse once famously said he deliberately serves cold, sub-premium bread at his restaurants because he doesn't want people filling up before the proper dishes arrive. this is probably just an excuse for being rubbish at bread, but i can kind of see his point - i could have happily eaten 10 of these and nothing else and still gone home happy.  

another little extra course, thistimebeetroot done a number of different ways. it was very pretty, colourful and with an artistic arrangement of various geometric shapes, but the success or not of the whole enterprise rather depends on your attitudes towards beetroot. and to that end, i'm afraid i'm not that much of a fan. i don't hate beetroot any more than i hate parsnip or sweet potato or turnip, but it's not exactly a death row vegetable is it. still, enjoyable enough.  

rather a lot, then, was resting on the starter courses proper. first - huge, meaty orkney scallops crusted with toasted pistachio and surrounded by various forms of cauliflower, and these were very good indeed; not just the scallops themselves which were perfectly seared golden brown leaving the bright white flesh inside firm and tasty, but cauliflower is always a good match for scallops and the textures of veg made all kinds of interesting crunch and contrasts.  

my own dish "rockpool" is a five fields signature dish of sorts, and certainly comes with plenty of fanfare. it's presented in two parts, the first "cold" stage consisting of a bowl of seafood granita and a slate of various shapes and techniques of caviar, sea urchin, smoked eel, you name it. it's a dish that was more admirable than enjoyable. bits of it were very nice - i loved the oyster (i think it was anyway) bowl with the citrussy granita on top, and the best item on the slate was a sweet glazed bit of mackerel, rich and rewarding. my problem with it all was only that the flavours and aromas were a bit too reminiscent of an actual stagnant rockpool; evocative and technically impressive maybe, but still not exactly what you'd usually consider dinner. the next stage, some good firm langoustine tails in a slightly oversour seafood sauce, had a similar curate's egg quality.  

between the starters and main was this, the firsttimei've ever had a dish served on a 400-million-year-old ammonite fossil. if only the food had been as interesting, as what was inside these neat green spheres was a mouthful of the kind of everyday apple sauce you might have with your pork chop. i mean i'm sure it wasn't, but it certainly tasted no different.  

red grouse was, i'm fairly certain, cooked sous-vide because there was no nice bubbly skin, in fact no sign of a direct heat source of any kind, just two tranches of medium-rare breast meat surrounded by neat chunks of winter vegetables. there is atimeand a place for sous-vide cooking, i'm certainly not totally against it in all situations, but when i compare the golden brown, crisp-skinned birds fresh out of the oven at, say, racine to these characterless lumps of salted rubber, well, there's no contest. it seems to me that too often sous-vide is a technique used for the benefit of the kitchen more than the enjoyment of the customer, and though i can appreciate consistency is at least more important in a fine dining environment than in a neighbourhood bistro, it should never be priority number one.  

cornish turbot, hiding here under a clever piece of dried skin, was by all accounts a more enjoyable main course. pan-fried to a nice dark exterior, the inside firm and fresh, there was little to complain about. i'm not entirely sure raw blackberries are a perfect accompaniment to anything other than a fruit salad, but that could just be me.  

this miniature bowl of foam was presumably a palate-cleanser of some kind, as it was quite surprisingly bitter and not entirely fun to eat but admittedly did zap our tastebuds back into the middle of next week.  

finally the desserts. mine was a mango, peanut, celery and buttermilk affair, a dairy-style arrangements of different forms and textures but lacking something - salt? sugar? heart? it was perfectly pleasant, but entirely forgettable, a sign of a kitchen whose interests quite clearly lay elsewhere.  

i think the other dessert was called orchard, as it consisted of coils of fresh apple in an apple sorbet, with some bits and pieces of ice cream and doughnut things. it also felt like a refugee from a much cheaper restaurant; this kind of thing is done better by any of those new-wave british garden restaurants like picture, the dairy or toast, and for little more than a fiver.  

five fields is, and will more than likely remain no matter what i have to say on the matter, an incredibly popular little restaurant. plenty of people have had enough of a goodtimeat this cozy spot just off kings road to regularly propel it to the top of more than one 'readers favourites' list on sites like tripadvisor, and whatever you think about those lists they must at least have a loose relationship with the truth. i just honestly wish i felt the same - dishes swung between oddly timid (sous-vide grouse, scallops and cauliflower) and recklessly experimental ("rockpool"), never often stopping at enjoyable along the way, and for the prices being charged "enjoyable" is really the least you could ask. most likely, five fields just isn't for me. and all said and done, i'm sure that's the least of their worries.

this was actually the secondtimei'd sat down in the dining room at five fields. unfortunately on our first visit a power cut meant no sooner had we got settled than a very apologetic front of house had to find us a short notice table elsewhere; a very minor inconvenience for us (particularly considering the alternative was the wonderful medlar) but a disaster for them, losing an evening's full house of bookings and god knows how much food spoilage. this isn't actually the firsttimei've had a booking cancelled because of a power cut - it seems to happen in soho a hell of a lot; maybe it's the rats - and i'm reliably informed that compensation from the energy companies is rare to completely non-existant. which seems desperately unfair. anyway a return date was soon found and here we finally were, nibbling on pleasant amuses of foie gras paté and fresh crab. i can't remember many canapés that have really set my heart racing; it seems to me that you'd be silly to waste an opportunity to start dinner with a bang, and yet most restaurants seem to settle for a couple of mouthfuls of comfort food. which isn't to say they weren't welcome, of course, just a bit disappointing. pre-starter of onion consommé continued the theme; nice but fairly ordinary. the cube of soft gruyere had a gentle earthy flavour and having a chunk of sweet pickled onion floating around was at least unusual, but the broth itself was really no better than the french onion soup at zedel, a restaurant with no pretentious to fine dining and - to say the least - in a rather different price bracket. but then the bread arrived and all of a sudden the journey was worth it. this buttermilk-based invention is, without a shadow of a doubt, the best house bread i've encountered in a very long time, although perhaps it's not technically "bread" at all, more of a savoury pastry. inside a brittle, golden brown crust were soft curls of soft, sweet brioche, steaming warm from the oven, just the most perfect texture

five fields was how this part of chelsea was described on an 18th century map of the area, though it is hard to imagine that these days in a location that is a short walk from sloane square. as of may 2013 it is now home to a restaurant of that name, has a youthful chef/owner with the wonderful name taylor bonnyman, who is british with an american mother, and who worked at corton in new york. the actual head chef is marguerite keogh, who has worked at marcus wareing at the berkeley. it is on the site of former spanish restaurant el blason, but this was no lick of paint makeover, with a new basement being dug out as part of an eighteen month building project; clearly some serious investment has been made.

the wine list had over 200 choices, ranging in price from £29 to £495, with a median price of £68 and a average mark-up of 2.7 times retail price. example wines were heathcote greenstone vineyard syrah 2009 at £52 for a wine that you can buy in the high street for £19, cristom vineyard jessie pinot noir 2008 at £98 for a wine that will cost you £37 in the shops, and antinori tignanello 2009 at £145 for a wine that retails at £65.

the dining room seats just forty diners, and is smartly decorated, with panels of patterned duck-egg blue tiles. tables were dressed with proper white linen tablecloths, chairs having cream upholstery. the tables, some an unusual oval shape, were fairly well spaced, though the wooden floor means that noise levels are a little high when busy, as it was on the evening that we visited. at least the volume of the music being played was low. three courses were priced at just £45, a tasting menu at £65, a level that probably reflects the early days of the restaurant.

a plate of nibbles included gougeres whose choux pastry was a little hard but had good cheese flavour, tomato pain perdu, and salt beef with mustard and pickled cucumber (5/10). a bay and cape gooseberry tonic then appeared in a little bowl; i am not sure what the point of this was. breads were made from scratch and comprised sourdough, black olive roll and campaillou. these were very good, the olive bread having deep olive flavour, the sourdough a light, airy texture and good crust (6/10).

orkney scallops were seared and accurately cooked, having enjoyable inherent sweetness. these were served with cauliflower and pistachio, the latter giving an interesting contrast of texture (6/10). “the garden” was a prettily arranged dish of vegetables from the sussex farm of the owner. here artichokes, asparagus, beetroot, courgettes, radishes and cauliflower were paired with purees of morels, cep and aubergine and garnished with edible flowers. this was an elaborate and unusual dish, perhaps taking inspiration from the gargouillou dish of michel bras (5/10).

the only technical slip of the meal came with the main course of dover sole, horseradish cream, butter emulsion, apple foam and oyster leaves. the fish was cooked sous-vide, and for whatever reason by thetimethe plate arrived the fish was barely warm. the horseradish cream was a good accompaniment, but dover sole is too good an ingredient to be wasted in this way (3/10). my chicken (cotswold white) was much better, the breast meat nicely cooked, the leg cooked as confit and served with charred leeks, a slow-poached hen yolk and brown almond puree. this was a very successful dish (5/10).

pastry chef chris underwood worked with tom aikens before this, so clearly has a good pedigree. he does seem to enjoy putting shrubbery in many of his desserts, as illustrated with a pre-dessert of lemon thyme financier, apple puree and tarragon sorbet. the textures were fine and the financier well made, but ignoring my own dislike of hedgerow-infested desserts, are apple, lemon thyme, and tarragon a logical and appealing pairing of tastes? not for me (2/10).

better was strawberries and cream served with champagne sabayon and italian shortbread with spiced strawberry jam. this was a sophisticated take on the classic flavour combination of strawberries and cream; the biscuit went well with the fruit, the sabayon was elegant and the elements worked well as on overall dish (5/10). my dessert involved rhubarb cannelloni, saffron custard roulade, rhubarb sorbet, rhubarb jell and salted milk crumble with candied pistachios. the trouble was that the cannelloni was soggy, and the rhubarb was surprisingly lacking in acidity, so the overall effect did not work that well, though the candied pistachios were a nice touch (3/10). coffee, a nespresso black ristretto blend, was good (£3.50 a cup). this came with good passion fruit marshmallow and a nicely made white chocolate with cocoanut and lime, amongst other petit fours.

service throughout the evening was very good. our waiter was that rarest of creatures: an english waiter in london, and he was attentive and helpful. the bill came to £112 a head with a bottle of jj prum and pre-dinner drinks. if you stuck to modest wine then a total bill around £75 a head would be possible. overall, although not everything worked perfectly, the five fields was certainly a nice change from the achingly trendy restaurant openings that have dominated the london scene recently. the menu had appealing dishes, the ingredient quality was good and the cooking technique generally of a high standard.