Tuesday, 3 June 2014

Londoner About Town At Pitt Cue Co

Last weekend G and I met at Oxford Circus underground station ostensibly to spend the afternoon shopping along Regent Street although truth be told, we really just wanted an excuse to eat out on a Sunday afternoon.

After half an hour of wandering the shops and watching G try on numerous permutations of outfits while sipping a glass of white (I salute the sales staff at Gant - kudos for keeping me engaged in the process) it was time for lunch.

There were two options: one, a delicate lunch of a sushi platter at our current favourite Japanese restaurant - Sakura on Conduit Street or two, a meal at Pitt Cue.  Now Pitt Cue was something of a sore point between me and G as, before Christmas, I had made a deal to take G for dinner there only to go with my flatmate before G and I had arranged a suitable date.  Given that the previous night's excesses meant a meal of rich carb loaded goodness and deep meaty flavours was in order and also presented an opportunity to regain favour lunch at Sakura trailed in second place this time.

While G finished up, I headed to the restaurant tucked away off Regent Street on Newburgh Street.  In typical current London style, it is impossible to make a reservation and you can only put your name down on the waiting list once all of your party have arrived.  As I waited for G I sat at the bar and sipped an expertly made Old Fashioned.

When G arrived we were given the option to head to a table downstairs where the tiny seating space seats around two dozen.  Instead G and I opted to sit at the window of the bar.


Even with such a narrow selection G and I struggled to make our choices - every option suggested moreish mouthfuls of the kind of food we were hankering for.  In the end we agreed to share a couple of extras and split two mains.

The first dish to arrive was the least impressive of the day: Lamb Hearts.


The other dishes we ate left us scraping the tin plates clean and frankly none of them really needed washing up.  In stark contrast neither of us mourned the end of this dish.


The Jowl Scrumpet with Apple Ketchup was sensationally good.  The pork melted in the mouth and the crunchy coating and sharp ketchup ensured this was our favourite dish of the day.

As we scraped the enamel from the plate our mains arrived.



Smoked Lamb Breast and Green Chilli Slaw was good.  A belly cut of lamb this had been rolled, smoked and then finished on the grill ensuring the meat was tender and the hit of lamb was intense.  The slaw had a subtle heat and fresh crunch.

The lamb, however, was soundly beaten into second place by the Smoked Ox Cheek and Bone Marrow Mash.



The fact the cheek fell apart at the touch of a knife spoke of the hours of slow cooking this undervalued cut of meat had undergone.  The flavours were deep and each mouthful felt like a warm embrace.  The thick cut slice of toast underneath was inspired as it soaked up all of the glorious juices to provide one sodden mouthful at the end of the meal to help ease the sadness its passing inspired.  Served with bone marrow mash it is the kind of meal you want to eat as rain lashes against the window and logs crackle in the hearth.  This bowl of mash was every bit as good as the one we were served recently at Dabbous.

After food of this quality how were we ever going to refuse the offer of dessert especially once we learned the day's offering was Bourbon and Coke Sticky Toffee Pudding?


As G took the first bite I listened as she ran through whole gamut of culinary superlatives at her disposal.  This was impossible to fault.  The bourbon hinted at in the dish's title was evident on the first mouthful.  The hit of booze left you in no doubt that this was an adult dish.  The sticky sauce coated the back of spoons and was a joy to eat and the crushed biscuit garnish ensured that there was a little crunch to add finesse.  The biscuit was heavily seasoned with salt which enhanced the flavours present.  I tell myself that I was a gent for letting G finish the pudding, but in truth the look in her eyes left me in no doubt what would happen if I tried to fight for the last mouthfuls.

In summary: go, you can thank me later!

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