Telephone: 020-7434 1500
Address: 5a Burlington Gardens, London W1
Rating: 17/20
Once upon a time, Cecconi was the kind of restaurant to which I would give a wide berth. Apart from the legendary inflated nature of its prices, it oozed literally and metaphorically that spurious oleaginous charm that certain Italian restaurants seemed to have delivered every morning along with the vats of cheap olive oil. This attracted the kind of clientele that seems to be made up entirely of passing dons of the non-academic variety, Mayfair toadies and assorted Eurotrash, whose discernment and aesthetic appeal was in inverse proportion to the size of their wallets. Now Cecconi has been revitalised, redesigned, and relaunched upon the world, and all has changed. Or has it?
Well, the food has, that's for sure. The man in charge of the kitchen is actually Nick Bell, but the man whose name has been drawing in the celebrity critics (not to mention the dons, toadies and Eurofolk) is Giorgio Locatelli, recently departed from Zafferano, who has been called in as executive chef or consultant, or some such arrangement.
Signor Locatelli, as readers of this column may well know by now, is one of the contemporary colossi of the London restaurant scene, a man whose charm is as great as his skill as a chef, and who was rightly named London chef of the year in the Mo¿t et Chandon London restaurant awards this year. It is slightly unfair, although understandable, that the excellence of Nick Bell should be overshadowed by Locatelli-mania. While the Locatelli inspiration is all over the menu, the daily delivery of the dishes depends on Bell, who worked at Zafferano for several years. Indeed, Locatelli was not on the premises on the day that Tetra and I went for a lunch so, while he may receive a good deal of praise for the excellencies of the menu, Bell should receive a round of applause for the beauty on the plate.
And there was plenty of it. Summer minestrone was subtle, soothing and herbal, evocative of sunlight filtered through green leaves, and quite at odds with the deluge engulfing Mayfair at that moment. Ravioli of oxtail managed to combine the ingratiating tenderness and sweetness of the long- cooked meat with a sauce of magisterial authority and pleasurable penetration. Saltimbocca of red mullet - that is, a brace of fillets of the said fish wrapped in prosciutto and fried to form a crisp carapace on the outside - was superbly executed, but I have nagging doubts about the basis of the dish because red mullet is such a strongly and distinctively flavoured fish that it needs a suitably robust treatment, and this was too refined to hold it in check.
That did for me, and Tetra did for a salad of chicory, gorgonzola and pear, an Italian variation of the classic French salad of endive, Roquefort and pear, which lost nothing in the comparison because the individual elements were so classy - they had her twittering like a songbird with delight. Then Tetra did for liver with onions, parsnip mash and spinach, which, while a combination that owed more to British tradition than to Italian, was completely Italian in its superb handling of the liver and the dulcet sweetness of the onion.
We had to pass on pudding with regret, but all in all this is Italian cooking by an Italian and English team of a very superior calibre. However, though many of the dishes have a pared-down quality that allows you to concentrate on the flavours produced by knowledgeable and skilful cooking, I wouldn't say that it was all as authentic as can be, what with the vegetables and sauce on the same plate, but when food tastes this good, authenticity can go hang.
I wish I could say the same about the redesign and the service. The former was altogether too dull, brown, linear and formal, and the latter too chirpy, intrusive and informal for comfort. Maybe the clientele, which does not appear to have changed since I last went 15 years ago, likes that kind of thing, and the price it comes at.
Our bill was £105.43, which represents something of a cut-price effort compared with former days, but is not exactly a snip by current standards, especially as we drank modestly by the glass. The mark reflects my feelings about the food, not the place. It seems unfair to tax such good food with the sins of conventional surroundings and service.
· Open Mon-Sat, 12 noon-3pm, 7-11pm. All major credit cards. Wheelchair access and WC for wheelchair users.
