Homage, 22 The Aldwych, London WC2 (020 7759 4080)
Dinner for two, including wine and service, £100
I worry about the name Homage for a restaurant. It's like a joke with the punchline told first. You wander in muttering 'But to what ...?' under your breath. Visit the Wolseley on Piccadilly (which, in proposition - breakfast, elevenses, lunch, afternoon tea and dinner under one roof - Homage most closely resembles) and you might just say: 'Oh look, it's an homage to the Viennese cafe.' But even if you didn't see the resemblance, you would still recognise the Wolseley as a good restaurant. Announce you're an homage to something in your name, though, and immediately you will fall victim to comparison.
According to its own press material, Homage, part of the Waldorf Hotel on London's Aldwych, 'recalls the grand cafes of Europe', but only, I think, like a very old lady recalls her wanton youth, with regret for what she is not.
I am also told that this is a 'concept' and that it was 'developed' by a 'hospitality industry entrepreneur'. Having been there I can say all of this appears to be true. It is certainly not a restaurant simply created by a chef who wanted to cook nice food. It is a disjointed collection of rooms down one side of the hotel serving mostly unimpressive dishes at the usual prohibitive London prices. There is a gloomy patisserie, a very unwelcoming bar, and then the 'Grand Salon', with imposing columns and a high echoing ceiling, and slightly desperate looking waiters who say things like, 'Enjoy your meal, please,' as if they couldn't handle yet another disappointed diner.
The menu is lengthy but lacks focus and a character of its own. There are salads and soups, pasta dishes and grills (rather meagre 200g steaks for less-than-meagre prices) and all of them could be found in dozens of places in London. A 'classic' Nicoise, with less-than-classic marinated rather than salted anchovies, boasted some very good tuna, but was desperately under dressed. My companion resorted to using the little saucer of olive oil and balsamic meant for dipping the bread, which is never a good sign. My linguine with crab, mange tout and chilli (ah, how they used to swoon over this in the grand cafes of old Europe) was nice and heavy on the crab, but so light on the chilli I couldn't taste it.
In the main courses, a fillet of sea bass arrived completely overcooked, and a chargrilled spatchcocked chicken turned out to be a flaccid little poussin so underdone it was bloody at the bone. The one indisputably good course was pudding: a very impressive, thin apple tart with ice cream and creme Anglaise and a punchy lime tart.
On the basis of those puddings, if I were to return to Homage it would be to try the patisserie.
All of this, with one of the cheaper bottles of wine from a list that starts at £18, plus service, came to £97.35. Naturally, the credit card slip arrived with service added and the tip space left open. The waiter attempted to tell me, with little conviction, that it was so people could leave more if they wanted. He gave up under further questioning, shrugged and said it wasn't his restaurant, and anyway he wasn't English, and where he came from they don't have such a thing as a service charge. At which point I was minded to knock the tip off this bill, too, but I couldn't be fagged. I just wanted to go home.
