
Charles Street, W1 lays claim to an illustrious pedigree and an impressive list of London's (and so England's) great and good. Archibald Primrose, 5th Earl of Rosebery may not be as famous as Disraeli or Gladstone, but he succeeded Gladstone as Prime Minister in 1894 and was born on Charles Street in 1847, while Admiral Sir Edward Codrington, hero of the Battle of Trafalgar also lived for a period on the street, even if the Admiral Codrington pub itself resides in Chelsea. Today however, it's Mayfair pubs that are the subject of the post.
On Charles Street then, just off Berkeley Square, is The Only Running Footman, named after the practice of having your man servant run alongside your carriage, a common practice undoubtedly for the residents of the area (until about 1810 when the practice, like so many of the footmen, fell by the wayside). The modern incarnation of this public house however seeks as much to woo the new masters of Berkeley Square, namely the hedge fund managers who spend their every waking hour just around the corner, as much as their man servants, resulting in an 'upstairs/downstairs' approach.
That The Only Running Man has a tab on its website entitled 'Sports' with a 'Watch it here LIVE' strapline (their bold) doesn't instantly scream great gastro pub, let alone fine dining but today, I'm with a friend, ex one half of the critical couple, and gastro pub is what we want but we haven't booked in advance. In the vicinity is the Guinea Grill, famous for its pies, which means that even on a Tuesday in October it is likely too full to accept walk-ins. And round the corner is The Punch Bowl (not yet blogged) which, since it was bought by Guy Ritchie, has replaced crusty regulars with an altogether trendier set also meaning it's impossible to just walk in and get a table (on one occasion I couldn't even walk in and get a pint of beer, it's that kind of pub). Our choice then is easily made.
Seated upstairs in The Only Running Footman, with the restaurant about 70% full, of our 12 fellow guests that lunchtime, 11 were men and all wore a shirt with a collar; I guess we're the only ones not expensing the bill. Service got better through the meal though was a little cold at first, not something that could be said about my starter, Pumpkin & Sage Soup, that I had to let rest for a few minutes for risk of burning my mouth. A skin was also forming on top when it arrived. Bread rolls that were offered ahead of starters were beginning to go hard, this was a late lunch and one got the sense they had been sitting around for a while though to be fair, the soup itself was good; when it finally cooled, it had good texture and decent taste. My friend judged his Crispy Duck Salad, Watercress, Spring Onion, Radish & Plum Sauce to be excellent, with a decent crisp to the duck and a decent kick to the dressing.
On Charles Street then, just off Berkeley Square, is The Only Running Footman, named after the practice of having your man servant run alongside your carriage, a common practice undoubtedly for the residents of the area (until about 1810 when the practice, like so many of the footmen, fell by the wayside). The modern incarnation of this public house however seeks as much to woo the new masters of Berkeley Square, namely the hedge fund managers who spend their every waking hour just around the corner, as much as their man servants, resulting in an 'upstairs/downstairs' approach.
That The Only Running Man has a tab on its website entitled 'Sports' with a 'Watch it here LIVE' strapline (their bold) doesn't instantly scream great gastro pub, let alone fine dining but today, I'm with a friend, ex one half of the critical couple, and gastro pub is what we want but we haven't booked in advance. In the vicinity is the Guinea Grill, famous for its pies, which means that even on a Tuesday in October it is likely too full to accept walk-ins. And round the corner is The Punch Bowl (not yet blogged) which, since it was bought by Guy Ritchie, has replaced crusty regulars with an altogether trendier set also meaning it's impossible to just walk in and get a table (on one occasion I couldn't even walk in and get a pint of beer, it's that kind of pub). Our choice then is easily made.
Seated upstairs in The Only Running Footman, with the restaurant about 70% full, of our 12 fellow guests that lunchtime, 11 were men and all wore a shirt with a collar; I guess we're the only ones not expensing the bill. Service got better through the meal though was a little cold at first, not something that could be said about my starter, Pumpkin & Sage Soup, that I had to let rest for a few minutes for risk of burning my mouth. A skin was also forming on top when it arrived. Bread rolls that were offered ahead of starters were beginning to go hard, this was a late lunch and one got the sense they had been sitting around for a while though to be fair, the soup itself was good; when it finally cooled, it had good texture and decent taste. My friend judged his Crispy Duck Salad, Watercress, Spring Onion, Radish & Plum Sauce to be excellent, with a decent crisp to the duck and a decent kick to the dressing.
Mains were a mixed bag. My friend chose the Spelt Spaghettini with Clams, Tiger Prawns, Chilli, Garlic & Wild Fennel. When set down at the table, it looked as if it lacked much of what it claimed to contain. In total there were about five clams, one of which was closed, probably as many prawns, while the chilli was in such small quantity (and flavour) that we think it might have taken the day off. The dish was ultimately little more than a big bowl of spaghettini with everything else seemingly a too little too late affair.
My main, Braised Neck of Lamb Fillet, Pearl Barley Risotto and Rosemary Jus was actually very good, by far the best dish of the day with a nicely cooked piece of lamb and a fantastically rich jus that would have made me happy in a restaurant of any calibre. I really liked this dish on flavour and would happily return there to eat it again (and again). In many ways, it was a prefect expression of what a good gastro pub should serve.
My main, Braised Neck of Lamb Fillet, Pearl Barley Risotto and Rosemary Jus was actually very good, by far the best dish of the day with a nicely cooked piece of lamb and a fantastically rich jus that would have made me happy in a restaurant of any calibre. I really liked this dish on flavour and would happily return there to eat it again (and again). In many ways, it was a prefect expression of what a good gastro pub should serve.
Dessert billed itself as Autumn Fruit & Nut Crumble with Crème Anglais. The fruits in question here were plum, pear and apple though the fruit flavours really failed to come through. With the crumble on top also seemingly inadequate, the dish was out of balance and the crème anglaise couldn't offset the sharpness of the fruit. With other options being the likes of Pumpkin Baked Cheesecake, and Orange & Lemon Tart, my friend declined a dessert on the grounds that there was nothing with chocolate on the menu, indeed, looking at the menu, it was all fruit based. I chose the crumble feeling I was letting the blog down, too safe, for they would have little problem serving a classic crumble, but it still sadly missed the mark.
My food was for the most part good, two of three courses scoring reasonably well, whereas my friend fared less well on the main course. During the meal then, I suspect it punched both above and below its weight at the same time. There's clearly talent at work here and it's not to hard to imagine that small changes could lead to a disproportionate improvement in the quality of the meal, but I feel loathed to be too harsh on it for so many pubs do a lot worse, and this is ultimately a proper pub (downstairs at least). But with its location so close to so many great eateries including the Guinea Grill, it's the Grill I'd return to where I'd feel in safer hands. You might just need a bit of planning first though and remember to phone ahead.
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Guinea Grill
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Guinea Grill