The Glasshouse in Kew, London is one of my favourite restaurants.
Something a little blissful happens in my head when I walk out of the station at Kew Gardens and onto the Station Parade. I’m not sure what it is: whether it’s the collection of interesting (mainly food-related) shops that share the parade, or that it’s nearly always sunny in Kew (honestly, it is), or the little area outside the Railway pub that has perfect people-watching benches.
More likely, it is just the plain fact that within two or three hours I know I’m going to leave the special restaurant located here very, very content, having eaten some beautifully prepared food, that will have been served with knowledge and care, in lovely surroundings.
With good connections, this is just 15-20 minutes on the train from a busy saturday morning Clapham. Lunch here is a great way to start the weekend proper, especially when teamed with a trip to The Stoop to watch the Harlequins (ideal for working out that I no longer know any rules of rugby). Those less sporty can even walk off any lunch excesses in Kew Gardens, or hammer the credit cards in nearby Richmond.
I have to admit I am a little competitive; I take a little devious pleasure in trying to pick the ‘best’ courses from any given menu and then comparing with the choices others made (yes, yes, sad I know, but I can’t help it). Two years ago, when we last met here for our ‘posh meal and rugby’ combo, I’m pretty confident I took the table prize for this game; I seem to remember a game main followed by a chocolate dessert being enough to see off my companions who focused on a beef main course. This year I would say the honours were shared, although I’m sure some of the others would disagree.
In my mind, the Coq au vin raviolo with portobello mushroom and a red wine bouillon that I ordered as my starter just about snuck ahead of the Warm salad of wood pigeon with balsamic vinegar and deep fried truffled egg (although Owen would disagree, and went as far as describing the salad as “oozing egg yolk and cultural yearnings” – yes, he is that pretentious). My coq au vin had been rendered into a deliciously meaty mousse, encased in the raviolo and served naked, resting on the mushroom (which had also been adorned with some intensely sweet caralemised onion). The bouillon was added to the dish at the table, with the jug left for top-ups. Simply a delicious starter.
With such a well-balanced menu it is hard to say one dish is better than another with any relevance, however, I’d have to concede my braised rabbit main came a close second to the roast duck breast and pastilla of duck confit with parsnip purée, cranberries and almonds (check the slideshow). Having first tasted rabbit at The Glasshouse a few years ago in tagliatelle starter, I had high hopes for my course. It ended up being very nice (the ham in particular), not quite reaching the heights of my memories. Very tasty nonetheless (even though the sauce tasted a tiny bit floury) and served with delicious seasonal vegetables.
Cheese followed our main courses, much as bottle of wine followed bottle of wine. The cheese board deserves a mention (and photo, by this point Burgundy-blurred for effect), boasting a breadth of selection that rivals most restaurants (one cheese in particular, described by our waiter as being English and from Caerphilly, pleased the Welsh contingent at the table no end). They are also very generous in their portion sizes, which is always key in my mind. We sharpened ourselves at the end of the meal with some strident espresso, served with fluffy, buttery biscuits.
In my insufficiently-educated opinion, it’s absolutely understandable why the Glasshouse has its Michelin star; the food, in preparation and presentation, the service and the ambience are all superb. Lunch is £20 for two courses (£25 for 3), which is incredibly good value, even in these tighter times (this is of course, dependent on you not blowing it on their wine list – ahem!). If you live in London, love good food and eating out, and haven’t yet been to the Glasshouse, I don’t know what more I can say to suggest you should. Go. Enjoy.
Percentage chance of returning: 100%
Percentage chance of finding Caerphilly in England: 0%
Questions I’m left with: how do you ‘truffle’ an egg?
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Next time you go here for lunch, make sure you call me fella!