In Jerome K Jerome’s classic book Three Men in a Boat, the hypochondriac narrator of the story J kick starts his adventure by visiting the doctor and, on being asked what exactly is wrong with him, replies:
I will not take up your time, dear boy, with telling you what is the matter with me. Life is brief, and you might pass away before I had finished. But I will tell you what is not the matter with me. I have not got housemaid’s knee. Why I have not got housemaid’s knee, I cannot tell you; but the fact remains that I have not got it. Everything else, however, I have got.
So it was with us at St John Bread and Wine. We wont take up your time (yet) telling you what we did have, but we will tell you what we didn’t: we didn’t have the salad, the butternut squash soup or the beetroot. Everything else however, we ordered. Everything else, we ate. We threw in a few daily specials too for good measure. I fear we are getting overly used to large menus and today we embarked on an epic feast.
On taking our order, the waiter drew a deep breath, nodded and feigned respect at our folly. Two dozen soiled and empty plates later, the respect was now reverential; by now, he was little surprised that we should also choose to attack the dessert menu with gusto together with a bottle of sticky adding the heartfelt comment, ‘why not, there’s nothing you can’t do.’
Before we go any further, let’s first take a step back in time. At the risk of gastronomic blasphemy, our last meal at St John Smithfield (in the days before the blog) was disappointingly ordinary in both available menu choices and its ultimate delivery; something was clearly wrong that day. Subsequently however, when Fergus Henderson was cooking at the Action Against Hunger annual dinner at No 1 Lombard, Mrs CC taking a little ciggie break outside the back door between courses bumped into Fergus doing the same and ended up engaged in a discussion on the best way to cook a pig’s head. Fergus was quirky, brilliant and a smoker; we restored him to the pantheon. We also knew that our previous experience was not representative of St John by a long way and resolved to return. It took some time to do but today, we crossed the threshold of St John Bread and Wine hoping for a food adventure: we duly found one.
I will not take up your time, dear boy, with telling you what is the matter with me. Life is brief, and you might pass away before I had finished. But I will tell you what is not the matter with me. I have not got housemaid’s knee. Why I have not got housemaid’s knee, I cannot tell you; but the fact remains that I have not got it. Everything else, however, I have got.
So it was with us at St John Bread and Wine. We wont take up your time (yet) telling you what we did have, but we will tell you what we didn’t: we didn’t have the salad, the butternut squash soup or the beetroot. Everything else however, we ordered. Everything else, we ate. We threw in a few daily specials too for good measure. I fear we are getting overly used to large menus and today we embarked on an epic feast.
On taking our order, the waiter drew a deep breath, nodded and feigned respect at our folly. Two dozen soiled and empty plates later, the respect was now reverential; by now, he was little surprised that we should also choose to attack the dessert menu with gusto together with a bottle of sticky adding the heartfelt comment, ‘why not, there’s nothing you can’t do.’
Before we go any further, let’s first take a step back in time. At the risk of gastronomic blasphemy, our last meal at St John Smithfield (in the days before the blog) was disappointingly ordinary in both available menu choices and its ultimate delivery; something was clearly wrong that day. Subsequently however, when Fergus Henderson was cooking at the Action Against Hunger annual dinner at No 1 Lombard, Mrs CC taking a little ciggie break outside the back door between courses bumped into Fergus doing the same and ended up engaged in a discussion on the best way to cook a pig’s head. Fergus was quirky, brilliant and a smoker; we restored him to the pantheon. We also knew that our previous experience was not representative of St John by a long way and resolved to return. It took some time to do but today, we crossed the threshold of St John Bread and Wine hoping for a food adventure: we duly found one.
rock oysters
cauliflower, butter beans & hedgerow garlic
potted pork
pork terrine
cold middle white & piccalilli
ox tongue, pickled walnut & watercress
snails & sea beet
What’s the difference offered by Bread & Wine versus the Smithfield restaurant? In their own words:
It [SJ Bead & Wine] very much beats its own drum with a menu structured towards a slightly less formal manner of dining, with guests actively encouraged to share dishes as they're ready from the kitchen.
This entirely suited our plans and with a friend joining us for lunch making it three at the table, all with big appetites, we felt we had enough to tackle the menu. All of it (almost).
For the record then, we ordered the following:
- half a dozen rock oysters
- smoked haddock, frisee & duck egg (x2)
- potted pork
- crispy Old Spot, chicory & mustard
- ox tongue, pickled walnut & watercress
- red mullet & kohlrabi
- foie gras & duck liver toast
- cauliflower, butter beans & hedgerow garlic
- mussels, cider & alexanders
- plaice, brown butter & sea purslane
- swedecake
- cold middle white & piccalilli
- snails & sea beet
- terrine
- mutton chop & carrots
Feeling invincible in our gargantuan appetites, we followed through with
- Eccles cake & Lancashire cheese
- hot chocolate pudding & caramel ice cream
- rice pudding & quince jelly
- one dozen Madeleines
Invoking Jerome K Jerome, were we to detail how each dish was, you might pass away before we had finished. Instead, we’ll do two things. First, memorable dishes. Second, overall impression.
It [SJ Bead & Wine] very much beats its own drum with a menu structured towards a slightly less formal manner of dining, with guests actively encouraged to share dishes as they're ready from the kitchen.
This entirely suited our plans and with a friend joining us for lunch making it three at the table, all with big appetites, we felt we had enough to tackle the menu. All of it (almost).
For the record then, we ordered the following:
- half a dozen rock oysters
- smoked haddock, frisee & duck egg (x2)
- potted pork
- crispy Old Spot, chicory & mustard
- ox tongue, pickled walnut & watercress
- red mullet & kohlrabi
- foie gras & duck liver toast
- cauliflower, butter beans & hedgerow garlic
- mussels, cider & alexanders
- plaice, brown butter & sea purslane
- swedecake
- cold middle white & piccalilli
- snails & sea beet
- terrine
- mutton chop & carrots
Feeling invincible in our gargantuan appetites, we followed through with
- Eccles cake & Lancashire cheese
- hot chocolate pudding & caramel ice cream
- rice pudding & quince jelly
- one dozen Madeleines
Invoking Jerome K Jerome, were we to detail how each dish was, you might pass away before we had finished. Instead, we’ll do two things. First, memorable dishes. Second, overall impression.
The ‘go back for’ dishes were definitely the pork orientated plates, appropriate for a restaurant that has a pig as a motif. The potted pork was divine, spread on bread or just eaten as is. The pork terrine we were told contained meat from every part of the animal so truly ‘nose to tail’; this too offered stupendous flavours while zig zagging texturally between firm pork meat and softer fat rich globules. Equally, the crispy Old Spot caused us to squeal like little piggies as it liquefied in your mouth under the gentle pressure of mastication. After eating one chunk of pork I was heard to comment, ‘that piece was purely fat; it was divine’. The ox tongue too while looking too much like a tongue perhaps to allow you to ignore what you were eating offered deep and lasting flavours.
Really, everything was pretty excellent, though none of us cared too much for the Swedecake, it tasted too much of Swede (funny that) without much addition.
Really, everything was pretty excellent, though none of us cared too much for the Swedecake, it tasted too much of Swede (funny that) without much addition.
Swedecake
plaice, brown butter & sea purslane
red mullet & kohlrabi
mutton chop & carrots
Desserts too were excellent, the Eccles cake as fruity and rich as anything that you might well eat this Christmas though nicely offset by the very dry Lancashire cheese. The hot chocolate pud was gooey and deep while rice pudding took us right back to our school days (though we were never allowed to have a Leoville-Las-Cases to wash it down with back then).
Who hasn’t had a debate on what is English food? It seemed to us today sitting here enjoying plate after plate of delectable treats that this was the real thing. It was said by our friend that ‘I wish I could bring some French people here who look down on British food and show them just how good it can be’. We also thought this offering was a kind of UK tapas and potentially provides a meal offering a real unity of shared experience to diners. Nor is it so expensive, our second great value meal in two days.
Who hasn’t had a debate on what is English food? It seemed to us today sitting here enjoying plate after plate of delectable treats that this was the real thing. It was said by our friend that ‘I wish I could bring some French people here who look down on British food and show them just how good it can be’. We also thought this offering was a kind of UK tapas and potentially provides a meal offering a real unity of shared experience to diners. Nor is it so expensive, our second great value meal in two days.
Eccles cake
While the outlet is called Bread & Wine and there is of course bread baked on site (as well as wines being sold to go), the emphasis in the restaurant is more on the food than the wine. The corkage policy of £15 a bottle is generous and saw us take advantage of that with some excellent vino from home but if you expect voluptuous Bordeaux glasses to enjoy it from, think again, the glasses for your best Bordeaux are the same as those you’ll be drinking water from. Apparently, Fergus has rude words for anyone who thinks it should be anything otherwise.
Overall, this was a wonderful and indulgent afternoon. We love French food and we love Italian food. With St John, we can now say proudly we love English food. Spread the word.
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Overall, this was a wonderful and indulgent afternoon. We love French food and we love Italian food. With St John, we can now say proudly we love English food. Spread the word.
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