After much wardrobe stress and on best 'ladies-what-lunch-in-Chelsea-no-less' behaviour, we rocked up on a Monday lunchtime to find we were the only ones there. Cue best, reverential, indoor voices.
Actually, after I overcame my odd, peasant complex, the staff were friendly and, once the lunch time crowd trickled in, the restaurant had a comfortable atmosphere. As for the food, The List ordered the starter of duck egg tart with red wine sauce, turnip purée, lardons and sautéed duck heart.
Despite not seeing eye-to-eye on occasion (most recently in the bubble tea saga), I'm beginning to love The List. This wasn't one of those 'endure-this-in-an-attempt-to-expand-your-horizons' dishes; this was one of those 'talk-amongst-yourselves-while-I-enjoy-this-duck-centric-reverie' dishes.
Not only was it one of the prettiest dishes so far, but the flavours and textures were incredible. The sweetness of the red wine sauce, the salty lardons, the savoury, chewiness of the duck hearts, the runny egg, the crunch of the thin pastry base... *Pauses to take a breath and mop up drool*...
Having enjoyed such a delectable (a Michelin word), grown-up starter, when The List left me to my own devices, I opted for what I thought was a suitably grown-up main. However, I can't actually remember what that was because it has all been replaced with a foetal-position, corner-rocking chant of: 'I ate brain, I ate BRAIN. I ATE BRAIN AND IT WAS GOOEY!'
Brain folds
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Definitely an experience dish; one that will stay with me in a PTSD fashion - Michelin Scarred.
So to sum up:
1. I would come back again and again for that tart
And
2. I am not cultured enough for cerebral offal.