GORDON RAMSEY TO ALAIN DUCASSE
Once at our table, we opted for the two-course fixed-price meal.
Steve’s pea risotto with salty ham and hint of mint was to die for.
His main course, home-made egg-rich spaghetti, was delightful.
Heidi’s roast pork medallions in balsamic sauce was splendidly tender and tasty, sitting on julienne vegetables, and exquisitely flavored by its own juices.
This was even more remarkable given that we live in a city where Cuban roast pork is excellent and plentiful; a pork dish must be truly smashing to impress us.
At meal’s end, Steve coveted Heidi’s crème Brule, of which a generous portion was served in a shallow terrine.
The crispy, savory-sweet, thin crust hid a filling of tangy, farm-fresh raspberries in the dish’s cool center.
Yes, the Marco Pierre White name was still grandly earning its well-deserved reputation.
But no gourmet tour of London would be complete without a meal at a Gordon Ramsay establishment.
Ramsay, another Michelin-starred culinary demi-god with mood swings, has an outlet in the landmark Claridge’s.
The hotel, with its stunning art deco décor and magnificent Dale Chihuly chandelier, has long been a favorite with British royalty and European aristocracy.
Ramsay’s restaurant seemed the perfect spot for dinner on our final night in London, at which we would gather with family to celebrate a 50th wedding anniversary.
With so much expectation resting on this meal, would it be all we dreamed?
It was, and so much more.
No comments:
Post a Comment