January’s big baking openers
Every morning in Paris is spent at my local bakery. I bite into the freshest pain aux raisin and each time try to savour it — because I know once I hit London, I can’t find something this good. It’s not a coincidence that London lacks the same reputation as Copenhagen or Barcelona for its options, given most Londoners continue to settle for mid pastries at Gail’s. But the need is clear, just take a look at the interest for last year’s big names — Pophams, Forno, Fortitude.
Claridge’s Bakery | Mayfair | Now open
This is the first bakery house at Claridges. Joining the team is Richard Hart as Executive Baker & Creative Director — award winning author and founder of Copenhagen’s highly ranked Hart Bageri bakeries. The offerings lean on the iced-bun nostalgia’s of Britain with jammy dodger tarts, English bloomers and roast-beef sandwiches. The interior, designed by British architectural designer John Pawson, leverages his minimalism through butter yellow hues and timber touches. You’ll find it tucked away neatly next to the Grade II listed hotel.
Le Café by Nicolas Rouzaud | Mayfair | Now open
Executive pastry chef for The Connaught, Nicolas Rouzaud, has launched at Burlington Arcade with a haute pâtisserie that nods back to his Toulouse childhood, inspired by seasonal fruits and natural ingredients.
Will London learn?
I have asked many a Parisian why there is a drop in level across the channel when it comes to baking. It seems the French put the most towards the quality and maturation of ingredients. London, on the other hand, tends to pay delicate attention towards the storefront as a means to attract. But margins in baking are fine — can London do both?
Ruth's, Putney: A mouthful of fat and salt
Images courtesy of Ruth’s Instagram
I came to Ruth’s earlier this month to try out a spot that looks like something from Stoke Newington — but in Putney. It’s a love child between two friends taking on bistro-style British classics. The fried mussels with curry mayonnaise, fits the brief the most, after you realise it tastes just like a packet of Monster Munch.
But the ride didn’t last long. Most of my plates couldn’t balance the amount of oil, salt and sauce used. And when you’re past the glossy, velvet curtain — you’re dining in your uncle’s butcher’s basement.
The never-ending doom-spiral for Soho House
Head chief-in-downfall, Andrew Carnie, had to urgently put the rails back on track for privatisation — after MCR Hotels backed out of its $200M equity requirement. They managed to scrap together alternate funding in less than a week. But it’ll take a much bigger mountain to climb if it was to ever win back its valued membership.
What was once a cultural staple that would gain notoriety from mentions in Sex and The City has fallen to become a club diluted in identity and quality. We’ve all seen the videos of empty rooftops and quiet New Year’s Eve parties. Its reputation is on the brink. The very last time I went, I had to send my drink back three times.
“It’s a virgin lemonade” says the waiter, as they sip on what should be my drink “like you asked… a skinny margarita”.