Telephone: 020-7613 5346
Address: 70 Leonard Street, London EC2
Who was this suave, smooth-shaven, neatly barbered fellow in chef's whites? The last time I saw David Eyre, he had several days' stubble and his hair was held in place by a raffish baseball cap. And his eyes had a somewhat haunted, frenzied look to them. That was when he had just emerged from a savage lunchtime session at The Eagle. The eyes are still somewhat haunted, but the frenzy has gone. Now David Eyre has something different to worry about.
Eyre Brothers is about as far removed from both the sandwich shop of the same name, the previous Eyre Bros incarnation, and The Eagle, as it is possible to be. While the latter had about it something of an outback sheep-shearers' bar in high season, particularly of an evening when City chaps and chapesses invaded the place in droves, Eyre Brothers is cool and orderly, at lunchtime at least.
From their past ventures, David and Rob Eyre clearly share a taste for barrel-chested flavours of the European peasant variety, particularly those of Spain and Portugal. So it was no surprise to find among the first courses dishes such as Portuguese mussel, prawn and tomato soup with chilli and coriander, and grilled wood pigeon on truffled potato with sweet onion and chervil; and, among the mains, roast monkfish with caramelised butter and sage, with braised black cabbage and verdina lentils, and grilled Mozambique prawns piri-piri with pilaf rice and cucumber salad.
But Dalhousie and I had none of these. He had rare beef fillet salad with tarragon and capers, mustard leaf and new potatoes; and I had fried fillets of sardines with ali-oli. And to follow that up, he went for calves' liver with pancetta, sage and garlic, sweet and sour cipolline and pinenuts; while I opted for Feijoada Branca, a pork and white bean stew, Tras-os-Montes-style, from Portugal. I couldn't resist the idea of the Tras-os-Montes-style. I couldn't resist the notion of beans and sausages, come to that, and Dalhousie couldn't resist the idea of a bottle of Morey-St-Denis 1997, which drank like silk.
The dishes ate much as they read, only more so, if you see what I mean. This is hearty stuff, and pretty hefty, too - high-grade protein dressed up and cheered up with expressive, vivid saucing. Having said that, the ali-oli, the Galician take on aËoli, could have done with a little more of the base vulgarity of garlic. But the tarragon and caper dressing for the beef was light and lively in all departments, and the pancetta, sage and garlic mixture for the calves' liver was ever so warm and fruity. The helpings were generous, too. In fact, the great plate upon which my Feijoada Branca sat brought a sharp intake of envy from Dalhousie. There were sausages of wicked variety and beans in abundance, and flavour to boot. But we both agreed that it seemed to have been made that very morning, and that had it been made yesterday or, better still, the day before, the flavours would have deepened and rounded out to greater effect. Still, it was a mighty, and mightily pleasing, dish.
After all this, it may seem surprising that we still had room for a pudding, but we did. And I am glad that we did, because what was heralded as an Agen prune and almond pithivier (in fact, as Dalhousie correctly pointed out, a jalousie) turned out to be an absolute stunner: sweet and tender prunes swaddled in a duvet of light almond paste, and the whole thing wrapped in a thin layer of impeccably buttery pastry. Puddings don't come any better. Certainly Dalhousie's espresso ice cream with hazelnut biscuit didn't - it was too sweet and slightly granular.
But these are the slight blemishes you expect when a restaurant is still wet behind the ears. They don't in any way compromise the overall style of the cooking. If you like food with substance in all departments, put Eyre Brothers on your list of places to visit. However, for those used to Eagle prices, there will be a little way to be made up, though our cause was not helped by Dalhousie's penchant for top-flight burgundy and calvados. But I can't help that - we could help the food side of things, which came to £63, but had no wish to do so. I pottered off into the afternoon well fed in every sense.
· Open Mon-Sat, lunch, 12 noon-3pm, dinner, 6.30-11pm. All major credit cards. Wheelchair access and WC.
