St John Smithfield
A GOOD TIME CELEBRATION
I can barely believe St. John’s has only recently appeared on my radar, given it’s been here since 1994; although it’s fair to say they go about their thing very quietly, given it took a deep scour of their website to find out they’ve had a Michelin star for the last fourteen years.
Bar & bakery
But this is no place to genuflect at the altar of ‘fine dining’ tasting menus, but rather a celebration of nose to tail eating in the olde world of starters, mains and desserts. Indeed, it’s a curious menu that suggests little in the way of finesse, although seasonality is clearly at its heart.
Dining Room
The ‘lack of frills’ extends to the setting with bare, uneven brick walls—that the Michelin Guide suggests are ‘in a shade of detention centre white’—with high ceilings, industrial-style lights and paint-distressed floorboards. Without a single picture on any wall, it’s a minimalist’s dream, whilst offering a timeless aesthetic.
It’s a welcoming room with a noticeable hum from contented diners, served by kitchen-uniformed waiting staff who exude professionalism and are noticeably knowledgeable; ours seemed to personally know every wine—and it’s a long list—as well the minutiae of every dish.
My daughter has chosen here to celebrate her 21st birthday, which on the face of it seems a odd choice given she’s pescatarian and her boyfriend’s vegetarian. Although, whilst it’s undeniably limited for vegetarians—but hey, you make your own life choices—there are enough options to keep pescatarians keen.
Wine Note Gewürztraminer
By the time the starters land we’re already motoring through two bottles of wine, both of which are contenders for wine of the year. In the orange corner is Wine Note—a full bodied Alsatian skin contact Gewürztraminer—that has the peach and lychee notes you’d expect but with salinity to cleanse the palate at the end. In the red corner is a ripe fruit, spicy full bodied Boulevard Napoleon Carignan from St. John’s very own vineyard.
Boulevard Napoleon Carignan
Welsh Rarebit
Across the table there’s Welsh rarebit (off the sides) and deep fried salt pollock that offers the perfect crunch of not too shy batter with the denser flesh from rehydrated fish with an egg-loaded tartar sauce.
Deep fried salt pollock and tartar sauce
Roast bone marrow is a menu mainstay since the 90s and I’m grateful for a donation of one, from which I mine and slather its rich, fatty innards onto sourdough toast before loading with a lemon dressed flat leaf parsley, caper and shallot salad and a sprinkle of salt for two mouthfuls of perfectly balanced decadence.
Roast bone marrow and parsley salad
But I’m happy enough with the supermodel good looks of my ‘salt beef’ that’s elevated by the firm texture of its fat endowed, sirloin cut and served with sauerkraut and English mustard.
Salt beef, sour cabbage and mustard
Lentils and goat’s curd
The vegetarian main is lentils and goat’s curd, whilst the pescatarian’s bone-in roasted hake cranks the dial on Mediterranean vibes with plump judiones butter beans, a rustic mint and anchovy dominated salsa verde, all sitting in a flavour pumped broth.
Hake, butter beans and green sauce
Deep fried rabbit, chips and ketchup
Across the table, deep fried rabbit comes with chips delivering the perfect fluffy-crunch combo and a ‘home made’ ketchup that’s a dead heat between sweet and sour allowing all the spotlight to be thrown onto the tomato, but, but, but… the rabbit has been too long in the fryer which means it’s a bit of a bootcamp session for the jaws.
Ox tongue, carrots and horseradish
I’d feel I’d cheated myself if not opting for an offal dish here, having even psyched myself for tripe if it was on the menu, so the ox tongue is an easy and happy choice. Peeled, brined and cut as a steak it has the texture of brisket and is served with braised carrots and horseradish.
Greens & Potatoes
We’ve got a side of waxy, buttery La Ratte potatoes and greens that don’t pretend to be anything more or less than what they are, although they elevate my plate to something resembling Sunday lunch.
Buttermilk pudding
We’ve agreed on three desserts and four spoons, despite the magnetic pull of both the sherry ice cream and Eccles cake with Lancashire cheese which fail to make the cut. In fairness, they faced stiff competition, not least with the answer to ‘what is buttermilk pudding?’ being ‘basically panna cotta with dressed strawberries’ and that was enough to seal the deal.
Chocolate and pistachio terrine
I’m first in on the chocolate and pistachio terrine that’s fully rich and indulgent, but its hint of bitterness means it’s the perfect counter point to our two fruit dairy combos, of which, the candied almond topped, raspberry trifle takes the crown. I’ve no doubt it would win any trifle competition anywhere, even if up against the likes of Mary Berry or Delia Smith.
Raspberry trifle
As there is a father-daughter tradition to uphold we’ve dessert wines too including one of my all time favourites, the ‘brandy tinged’ Pineau des Charentes Chateau di Orignac and a Sauternes that’s pure liquid ambrosia.
Such is the relaxed atmosphere, by the time we order espressos and the bill, we’ve been here nearly three hours. I’d happily stay longer, but with apéritifs and digestifs we’ve already rattled up a bill of £494.60 (£237.40 Drinks / £204.20 Food / £53 tip).
It’s with some effort we have to drag ourselves away, having been the perfect place for our family celebration.
HIGHLY RECOMMENDED 9/10
St. John Bar & Restaurant Smithfield, London EC1M 4AY
