Review: Shay Cooper at The Goring

Suffering, as we both do, from a kind of illiteracy when it comes to the Royals, it was only when we mentioned our recent visit to The Goring in Belgravia to a friend that we discovered its status as prenuptial host to Kate Middleton. Perhaps the bust of the Queen Mother should have tipped us off as to its role as de facto Buck Palace extension, though we were too busy focusing on the arrival in the kitchen of a new chef, Shay Cooper.

At The Goring, the average age of the clientele is twice that of the frequenter of a Hackney brasserie. However, when it comes to the menu, the differences disappear

In most ways, the contrast between The Goring’s restaurant and the rash of small plate joints opening up across gentrifying parts of London couldn’t be more marked. In the former, the gold curtains are so heavy they’d probably kill you if they fell on you, while the furnishings are so soft and muted they blend conversation to a discreet murmur – a world away from the clamour of voices bouncing off exposed brick in the latter. At The Goring, the average age of the clientele is twice that of the frequenter of a Hackney brasserie. However, when it comes to the menu, the differences disappear: “traditional” doesn’t look as … traditional as it did ten years ago. British food, locally sourced, is more fashionable than it has ever been, and so in sticking to its guns (with a little subtle tweaking from Cooper), the hotel – which has been in the same family for four generations – has eventually ended up surprisingly of the moment. In fact, they may just have the edge – to date, we have yet to see a food trolley at an East-end pop-up, though tweeds and waxed moustaches are omnipresent.

Our starters were excellent. The Cornish mackerel was very slightly pickled and had a wonderful delicacy rarely associated with this gutsy fish. Day-boat plaice fillet was perfectly executed and accompanied by a lightly curried potted shrimp butter– just enough to complement but not to overwhelm. Both dishes showed that the kitchen has the confidence to freshen things up, while exercising sufficient restraint to avoid upsetting the regulars. They were paired with wines by an attentive sommelier whom we gave carte blanche to match a wine to each dish. The Saumur Arcane, Chateau de Fosse Seche 2009 that went with our mackerel was the winner of round one, with a lingeringly aromatic depth and complexity balanced by fresh acidity – a perfect analogue of the dish. In comparison, the Condrieu La Combre de Malleval, Domain Ogier 2010, though well matched to the food, seemed just a little too straightforward. Interestingly, both are examples of the kind of modern, small producer wines, from arguably more esoteric regions, that you might expect to come across in younger, hipper dining rooms in distant postcodes.

The Beef Wellington on the main course is not one of Cooper’s subtle tweaks. It has, famously, never been off the Goring’s menu in all its 104 years, and arrives at the table aboard a hooded trolley of baroque splendour. This is as far as one can get from the “small plate”, but Cooper’s hand is as assured here as elsewhere – the pastry crust immaculate gold, the beef fillet a glorious pink and perfectly tender. The only flaw is the one inherent in the design of the dish: cook the meat to perfection and the juices inevitably seep into the crust, soggifying the pastry. Perhaps that’s how the buffers like it, and who’s to say they’re wrong? Salt marsh lamb two ways – cutlets and, more unusually, the fattier breast – was good too, though the accompanying “hotpot” potatoes were rather too evenly cooked – perhaps even fractionally undercooked – to justify the tag. Still, that was as close as we came to finding a fault in the quality of cooking all night, and it wasn’t that close.

The beef was paired with a Saint-Emilion Grand Cru Chateau Edmus 2007, the lamb with a Shafer Merlot, Napa Valley 2011. Both again fine, and well matched, but Bordeaux here had a clear edge over California in subtlety, depth and complexity. One in the eye for the Hackney kids, you might imagine, but our sommelier was at pains to stress the newness, youth and indeed American-ness of these particular St Emilion producers.

Perhaps that’s how the buffers like it, and who’s to say they’re wrong?

A rice pudding with caramelised apple was as perfectly old-school as the Beef Wellington, and we chose it for the same reason. The Several Ways with Rhubarb was immaculately new school, and the clearest winner of the night when it came to its wine coupling – a Vouvray Molleaux Domaine de Clos Naudin 1997 showing its age fabulously. The 2012 Jurancon Uroulat, Charles Hours that accompanied the rice pudding, though fresh and bright and lovely, was an ingénue in comparison. Interestingly, then, that meant that for every course, glass for glass, the older wine was invariably the winner. One might wonder if the sommelier at this 104-year-old institution, with its modern esoteric twist, wasn’t making a subtle but effective point. C

The Goring, 15 Beeston Place, London, SW1
0207 396 9000; thegoring.com