Review: The Northbank Restaurant
London’s Southbank is synonymous with a bustling restaurant scene, but the walkways north of the river receive less in the way of hungry footfall. It is only a matter of time before every twist and turn of the mighty Thames houses an eating spot, however, such is growing gastronomic gravitas of London town.
As it is, The Northbank Restaurant – sitting, you guessed it, on the north side of the river – is housed in an unassuming building a stone’s throw from the Millennium Bridge. The tourist magnet of St Paul’s, the culture trap that is the Tate Modern – not to mention the professional masses who commute through Blackfriars – are all in close proximity, and there is a humble sandwich board drawing attention to the restaurant’s presence. This is most likely because unless you know it’s there you won’t know it’s there, so to speak, but it does seem bizarre for a smart establishment to indulge in the sort of on-street advertising usually associated with greasy spoon cafes.
It seems stranger still when you step inside and are greeted with confident dark floors, elegantly drawn wallpaper and leather-bound booths. The Northbank Restaurant is clearly catering to a more moneyed diner, be they at work or play. There were lots of suited types on the evening that we visited , but also a table of happy, rowdy ladies celebrating a birthday, lending a fun rather than formal ambience.
The menu, overseen by Head Chef Jason Marchant (formerly at Claridges), changes regularly. It is proudly British food which champions its quality cuts of meat, catch of the day and in-season produce. My friend went for the dependable starter of scallops and pancetta, which were expertly cooked to showcase the moreish scallop sweetness. My pistachio and smoked ham hock terrine was a hearty start: textured, the right amount of gelatinous and with a good bit of crunch. Both came served with a side of salted butter and rolls, the latter warmed so that they were a cut above the usual breadbasket.
Mains here fall around the £20 mark, and centre around failsafe flavour pairings: pork belly with apple sauce, plaice with crayfish butter sauce, and venison with roasted plums were all on offer when we visited. With much deliberation, we both decided to forgo these options for a good old steak. My rib eye and my friend’s sirloin were so tender that it felt like cutting butter, and the sauces (peppercorn and truffle) were plentiful though virtually redundant, as the meat needed no adornment. Our sides of mushrooms with chorizo and chips followed much in the same vein: simply but expertly done.
My pudding of Eton Mess was the only dish to try and confound expectation. Rather than clouds of decadent cream swirled with berries and meringue, I was presented with a little glass cup of sweetened strawberries, topped with a sort of custard/jelly hybrid and an afterthought of crushed meringue. It’s the sort of the thing which was trying to be a bit different, but sadly fell short of the mark. My friend’s coffee and chocolate mousse, however was spot on, served to look like a mini cappuccino and accompanied by a rich, dark, perfectly bitter truffle.
Happily, I still had my wine to sip on while my friend exulted in her pudding choice. The wine list is well thought out and broad, with bottles varying by both region and price (they start at £17, rising to hundreds for the really fine stuff). Our 2011 False Bay pinotage was fruity and medium bodied, and tasted much more expensive than its £25 tag.
Were The Northbank Restaurant on the Southbank, it would undoubtedly be rammed on a nightly basis; as it is, it is worth making the most of being able to get a table any night of the week. In fact, it’s the sort of place which will impress colleagues, family, other halves, whoever, by virtue of you simply having the nous to know about it – sandwich board or not.
www.northbankrestaurant.com
As it is, The Northbank Restaurant – sitting, you guessed it, on the north side of the river – is housed in an unassuming building a stone’s throw from the Millennium Bridge. The tourist magnet of St Paul’s, the culture trap that is the Tate Modern – not to mention the professional masses who commute through Blackfriars – are all in close proximity, and there is a humble sandwich board drawing attention to the restaurant’s presence. This is most likely because unless you know it’s there you won’t know it’s there, so to speak, but it does seem bizarre for a smart establishment to indulge in the sort of on-street advertising usually associated with greasy spoon cafes.
It seems stranger still when you step inside and are greeted with confident dark floors, elegantly drawn wallpaper and leather-bound booths. The Northbank Restaurant is clearly catering to a more moneyed diner, be they at work or play. There were lots of suited types on the evening that we visited , but also a table of happy, rowdy ladies celebrating a birthday, lending a fun rather than formal ambience.
The menu, overseen by Head Chef Jason Marchant (formerly at Claridges), changes regularly. It is proudly British food which champions its quality cuts of meat, catch of the day and in-season produce. My friend went for the dependable starter of scallops and pancetta, which were expertly cooked to showcase the moreish scallop sweetness. My pistachio and smoked ham hock terrine was a hearty start: textured, the right amount of gelatinous and with a good bit of crunch. Both came served with a side of salted butter and rolls, the latter warmed so that they were a cut above the usual breadbasket.
Mains here fall around the £20 mark, and centre around failsafe flavour pairings: pork belly with apple sauce, plaice with crayfish butter sauce, and venison with roasted plums were all on offer when we visited. With much deliberation, we both decided to forgo these options for a good old steak. My rib eye and my friend’s sirloin were so tender that it felt like cutting butter, and the sauces (peppercorn and truffle) were plentiful though virtually redundant, as the meat needed no adornment. Our sides of mushrooms with chorizo and chips followed much in the same vein: simply but expertly done.
My pudding of Eton Mess was the only dish to try and confound expectation. Rather than clouds of decadent cream swirled with berries and meringue, I was presented with a little glass cup of sweetened strawberries, topped with a sort of custard/jelly hybrid and an afterthought of crushed meringue. It’s the sort of the thing which was trying to be a bit different, but sadly fell short of the mark. My friend’s coffee and chocolate mousse, however was spot on, served to look like a mini cappuccino and accompanied by a rich, dark, perfectly bitter truffle.
Happily, I still had my wine to sip on while my friend exulted in her pudding choice. The wine list is well thought out and broad, with bottles varying by both region and price (they start at £17, rising to hundreds for the really fine stuff). Our 2011 False Bay pinotage was fruity and medium bodied, and tasted much more expensive than its £25 tag.
Were The Northbank Restaurant on the Southbank, it would undoubtedly be rammed on a nightly basis; as it is, it is worth making the most of being able to get a table any night of the week. In fact, it’s the sort of place which will impress colleagues, family, other halves, whoever, by virtue of you simply having the nous to know about it – sandwich board or not.
www.northbankrestaurant.com