Telephone: 020-7829 2000
Address: Renaissance London Chancery Court, 252 High Holborn, London WC1
What does QC stand for, do you think? Queer cattle? Quintessential consumer? Querulous critic? Anything but the last. No. I suppose, given the location and all, it has to be Queen's Counsel. Very boring.
QC is the restaurant end of Chancery Court, and Chancery Court is a new(ish) hotel on High Holborn, which, I believe, was once the headquarters of some insurance company or other. It is a reflection of our changing priorities that yesterday's palaces of finance are recycled as today's hotels and restaurants. That's better, I suppose, than the public schools and madhouses (or public school madhouses) that they would once have become.
Even given the profligate nature of today's restaurant impresarios, it is unlikely that any would have the temerity to lay on marble so lavishly that it would have caused embarrassment in imperial Rome, or devote the space to the self-aggrandisement that the City fathers once sought to celebrate their power and position. There is more than a little of Shelley's Ozymandias about Chancery Court's previous incarnation. It is altogether more satisfying that the splendid halls should now be turned to a greater purpose, that the managers of the managers of evasion and featherbedding, and the clerks to the under-clerks in dockets, should give way to the worthier callings of concierge and bellboy, sommelier and waiter, and the vaulting spaces should now echo to the sound of people having a good time.
The massive space of the old hall has been cleverly divided up into a series of more intimate areas without sacrificing the sense of grandiosity, and the notion of imperiality is reflected in a deft pastiche of classical lighting. It is impressive (and smart), without being in the least oppressive (and pompous). It makes a splendid setting for some of the most limpid cooking in London.
I first remarked on the skills of Jun Tanaka when he was at Chives. The food there was notable for its balance, elegance and refinement. It was original without being outlandish, accomplished without being distractingly sophisticated. Even I could tell that he was someone to watch. And, as usual, I didn't manage to watch quite closely enough. I missed his move to QC. In fact, I very nearly missed QC altogether. I'm rather glad I didn't.
The lunchtime menu of £14.50 for two courses and £18.50 for three (including, at the time of my visit, a glass of wine), must rate as one of the better bargains in London. This led to vitello tonnato with rocket and caramelised sweetbreads followed by tempura of red mullet with a salad of baby vegetables for Peperoncina, while I made do with fish soup, brandade beignet and garlic croutons and then fricassee of roast quail and Jerusalem artichokes, with an apple and blackberry crumble with ginger ice cream to bring up the rear.
I'm not altogether sure that any Genoese would have recognised Mr Tanaka's version of vitello tonnato - come to think of it, I'm damned sure they wouldn't - but that didn't stop it from being a very fine dish indeed. A slice of veal as thin as an onion skin and tender as the night was wrapped around a fat stuffing of stiff tuna mush, flavoured, correctly, with mayonnaise and capers. The little rectangles of caramelised sweetbread neatly picked up the off-sweet, musky flavour of the tuna mush. It may not sound like much, but it was a very sexy dish, made to measure for Peperoncina, and she duly took the measure of it.
The fish soup wasn't quite in the class of Martin Hadden's bespoke effort mentioned last week. The fishy flavour was a bit more pronounced, but it was still a smooth and tasty old article, and sitting in it was a beignet the size and shape of a miniature rugby ball, a fine, tanned colour and rugged with crunchy Japanese breadcrumbs (something of a fetish among chefs at the moment). It managed to be substantial and light at the same time, with the flavour of the salt cod subtly modulated.
But it was in the fricassee of roast quail and Jerusalem artichokes with quail eggs that Mr Tanaka showed true class. Jerusalem artichokes are not exactly a high-fashion veg, but they have a wonderful, sweet, nutty flavour that perfectly complements the sweet, very slightly gamey flavour of your top-grade quail. In this case, each was bound to the other in a delightful sauce that was as soft as suede and delicately flavoured with the juices of the bird. The soft-boiled eggs burst into it, the yolk thickening it still further and adding an extra layer of richness. But it was the unity of the dish that really impressed me. It was the culinary equivalent of a Hepplewhite chair - elegant, beautifully crafted, with no unnecessary ornamentation; utterly satisfying.
Peperoncina's tempura of red mullet was an altogether feistier dish, partly because red mullet has a true, slightly wild flavour. This was a prime specimen, cooked with superb precision, the tempura lightly lacquering the outside, adding a slight crunch to the firm flesh. The cleanly dressed salad played off the strength of the fish.
The pudding was fine, if rather ordinary after the thoughtfulness of the earlier dishes. I'm not sure whether puddings rank that highly among Mr Tanaka's priorities yet. Given the excellencies of the earlier courses, I am inclined to forgive him this lapse for the time being. My sense of generosity was helped by the services of a sommelier of notable charm, enthusiasm and nous. We drank by the glass moderately (which is not always the same as cheaply), wisely and well, something I don't always manage to pull off. So the bill came to £78.20: food £33, water and coffee another £10.50, and the rest made up of various alcoholic substances.
· Open Mon-Sat, 11.30am-3pm and 5-10.30pm Menus: Lunch and 5-7pm, £14.50 for two courses, £18.50 for three. All major credit cards. Wheelchair access and WC.
