MobyP

Interesting point about the snails. For my palate, they were sized perfectly, in accordance with the dish - but they're a rare part of my diet, so perhaps I'm one of those he was alluding to. I also thought the Salmon was a superb dish, in conception and execution. My main problem with the Fat Duck, which I couldn't put my finger on until a few months after, was how the meal stayed in the memory. As almost every dish had been cooked at a low temperature, or sous vide, there was a luke warmness to it all (except the ice cream). Of Gagnaire, or Ducasse, or L'Ambroisie, or Ramsey, I couldn't tell you how hot the food was. But with the Fat Duck, there was a sense of rush to the eating. Even with the salmon, after several bites, I remember the dish was losing heat quickly, and I felt rushed by its cooling to finish it before it became cold.

Adam - you need to change the link from .com to .org - otherwise the photos don't come up.

I do something similar (though I've been following the FL recipe stuffing them with sweetbreads and tongue). They make for lovely eating. At what temps are you braising for that long? And how far do you trim off the fat? I find that it gelatinizes from the braising, which is delicious, but can be a bit overwhelming if you don't trim it right back.

They serve a similar dish to the one you describe at Aikens - and very nice it was too. What do you do with the cheek?

"I pined for the good old days when soups like this would be tammied on a kitchenmaid's leg." Classic.

Damnit - I'm holding out until I get the full brigade! I want at least one sous, one saucier, a prep, and full time pasta maker. These kids are gonna have asbestos fingers before they can write!

Thanks Marc (and I think you were in Portugal when I was down there, or would've called...) The NA is moderately casual downstairs, both in clientel and service, so I'd imagine kids would do fine - although possibly not the under 4's. The lights are permanently locked into the walls, so it doesn't seem so temporary an affair. Funny how Tracy fell for the lamb/crab dish. it felt like poorly executed nostalgia to me (i.e. if you're going to attempt it, it has to be a three star event, otherwise it has an 'also-ran' quality to it). The veg did indeed taste exceptionally fresh, although you could see the same garnishes in different disguises on a number of dishes. Well, as I said, certainly a recommendation.

I already made the announcement here, but I thought you'd like to know, after all your great help with support and dietary conundrums, that Kate is now three months pregnant... With twins!

I thought I should let you all know, after your magnificent help with the above diet, that Kate is 3 months pregnant... with twins! Thanks to all for suggestions. Many were used, and all the support appreciated. Right. Now, cigars all around - or is eGullet non-smoking?

lol. Wait till you find out that Curlywurlifi is Fay Maschler.

Sloane Rangers are a funny sort who own horses, call their daughters after poodles, and drive Range Rovers. Also - what about the Food festival of London? Is it Sommerset House?

If you're walking in that area , you could do the Ebury in Pimlico - South of King's Road. Very picturesque around there, always v. good food, and the chef is ex-Chez Bruce. After lunch, you could pop around the corner for some Artisan du Chocolat, and then take him/her to laugh at sloan rangers in the square, followed by night of theatre at Royal Court?

Ah - those wealthy types. Instead of Paris, they took a private jet to Switzerland, went for a nice stroll, and then ended up in Fredy Girardet's old place. "You should have come" they said. "We had a lovely time."

A nutritionist told me that I should think of morning sickness as a form of hypoglycemia. The body is making vast new demands on energy - the unfortunate and near impossible truth is to eat little and often. Proteins especially - so if not meat, then something like humous, etc, which helps refill the energy reserves.

On the looooong drive that is the possibly Damascian road which is oft mistaken as the A30 to Cornwall, we tootled south at just the right moment in order to end up in Dartmouth for luncheon - and weren't we just the happiest fish in the barrel? Had an excellent meal at: The New Angel photographic evidence... Not having known it in its previous incarnation, this is a restaurant full of the over-qualified. Super French staff and desperately serious looking chefs racing under a rather severe looking John B-R. But a warning: this isn't trying to get stars, I think, except inadvertently. The food - a mixture of high and low cooking - was cleanly presented, without being absurd. The odd quenelle, some inadvertent stacking, but nothing out of control. The starters were between £8-12.50. The mains from £10.50 to 22. Generally speaking a very good bargain for what we had. The main room downstairs is simply done, with a very open kitchen where, enjoyably, you could see them plating the food, component by component; and perhaps less enjoyably, hear J B-R shouting two feet behind him "2 RISOTTOS - HURRY UP!" when a whisper would've done it. Upstairs is the more formal dining room. It looked well done, but I didn't get the chance to really inspect it (what would I have done? Checked the carpets?). It slumbers on the sea front which was positively anchovied with tourists the day we were there. Not knowing there was a great wedge of ocean front that split Dartmouth off from the rest of Europe, rather like that 'Prisoner' village, we had to take a ferry to get there. And although every other tourist spot was brimming over, the Angel was never more than half full. I was told they were booked out for dinners, however. Anyway - there were two menus: specials and alc. They're framed with odd sentiments ["You are not obliged to eat three courses, but of course you may if you wish!" and "choose as much or as little as you like" and "copies of French Leave are available to buy at the restaurant"]. The point is, I had a look at the web site before going, and it all looked a little - well - la-di da. Budvar battered fish etc etc, and, really, who cares? Actually, there are some interesting things on the menu. Encouraged by the sentiment that I wouldn't be thrown in the harbour for ordering - well, quite a lot, actually - to start I had a ham hock and foie gras terrine. This was very nice (just above "not bad," and below 'Super!" on the Effuse-O-Scale). Lovely and porky, with two good wedges of creamy foie passing down the centre. The wiffery had the terrine of chicken and duck livers - a parfait loaf sort of thing. Also very creamy, and had her Nero-esque thumb (by which many have fallen) pointing skywards. The mother-in-law had Grilled Fowey mussels with a herb brioche crust, served with green salad. This also was simply done, but with a lovely flavour. I then went into 'extra-course' land (like an extra dimension, but with more calories), and had the Tortellini of Lobster with sauce vierge. This was fantastic in all regards - and I imagine it was carried over from his halcion days. The lobster was just cooked, and not bulked out with the usual salmon or scallop mousse. The sauce vierge was very subtle - it tasted as if had a vegetable nage base, rather than the oil/lemon/basil usual vierge-lousness. And the large tortelloni (they weren't tortellini at all) were resting on a bed of crushed fresh peas and broad beans. This isn't my sort of dish, generally, but this was one to be proud of. For mains, my wife had the crab salad starter. A large quenelle of crab resting on something, surrounded by leaves. This had a massive flavour - rather than those droll and pedestrian crab and mayo gloops one finds. I had the Fillet of Blackawton lamb, crab mousse scented with curry, basmati rice and summer vegetables. This was a little out of place. Good, but a bit fiddly. (Isn't there something like this in the Manoir cookbook - a crab flan or some such next to saddle of lamb? I could be wrong) I imagine this also came from the days on high. The crab mousse - folded around the fillet and attached by invisible means - although a lovely texture, lost much of its flavour behind the lamb. I'm also not much of a fan of French chefs using curry. It's like the French and South East Asia - someone should have warned them before it was too late. I also don't really understand rice used in this context. It seems a little 70's to me. The M-I-L had a half lobster grilled with garlic butter - and no complaints. My memory goes hazy on the deserts. I had a vanilla panna cotta - but I forget the punch line - the served with bit. It was very nice. The wiff and MIL shared a chocolate fondant - which was all they required it to be. It looks like JB-R has brought a sizeable staff with him. The front of house was mostly french. The maitre, a youngish man, said he hadn't seen anything of Dartmouth yet (it's a small town) in the three or four months he'd been there because of working so hard to get the place started. The women, oddly, were wearing unironed rugby shirts - a bit scruffy. The men were all in pressed blue dress shirts. A strange contrast. Behind the pass looked to be a large contingent. Anyway - the important part of this is that I'd return there in a longish second. It wasn't perfect, but it really, really wasn't trying to be. JBR is obviously fed up with plating langoustinees at 42 degrees. I might not be fed up with eating them, but in the meanwhile a fella has to eat well, no?

First of all - everyone should have a look at his first two books (yes yes, I came out of the closet on this a long time ago). They're excellent. Secondly, I went to the restaurant, and it was appaling. Diabolical. The service was horrific. One or two of the dishes were practically inedible - and this (little did I know at time of booking) was in the transition time between groups of kids. In other words, it was cooked by the professionals - Jamie Oliver not among them. The portion sizes of the mains were 50% too large (and I'm one the biggest eaters I know), as was the price. The retro-60's chair gave me a back ache, and every single person who worked there kicked the back of it at some point, because the corridor between the tables is too narrow. The woman in charge thought the best way to deal with my complaints was to blush, then become embarassed, and then say nothing. Really criminal. And I still love those two books.

I walked into a couple of completely random curry houses when I was up there on my own, and had some of the best Indian food of my life.

tony - you're becoming so ridiculously well-eaten, I might have to start stalking you. A great review. Left me deeply jealous.

Dear oh dear - my reputation's in tatters.

Quite the opposite. To a lighting designer, it gives very precise control over exactly the style, focus and dynamic of lighting - changeable according to the time of day or customer preferred or area of room. A great lighting designer could split the room up into regions, give each table a sense of isolation or connection, lead the eye to some things, and very much away from others, and in general completely define the topography of the place. The problem at the moment, or was when I was there, is how homogenous and flat the lighting is. The eye isn't lead anywhere, it's presented by everything simultaneously. Too much.

If you wanted a 1000 quid weekend, you could stay at the Plaza Athenee, and drop downstairs for a Ducasse dinner. Remember! For a man - Nothing says "I love you" like Ducasse!

Thanks for that, DD - I'll see if I can veer thataways the next time I'm Ebury-inclined. Can you give us an estimate on cost? 16 Saint Barnabas Street Pimlico London SW1W 8PB Tel: 020 7730 5550

Carlsbad - more description! How was it prepared? What was the texture? The garnish? The aromas, the flavours?

I believe it works on a fat to liquid ratio. I was told that you could reduce UK double cream by about 50% before it will split (although it does get rather claggy). Perhaps the US heavy cream has a similar fat content?

I think the problem is that if Mr. O's a foodie, there's no where in London that you could take which would be really special. The options in the UK then become Le Manoir, Ludlow (a surpise), Leeds (a complete shock), or outside the UK to Paris - which would be v. expensive, but incredible. For instance the Hotel Crillon.