St. John Marylebone

It had been on my to-do list for a good ten years, ever since Nicolas brought back the St. John cookbook from London to the kitchens of La Meilleure Jeunesse. I must have leafed through it countless times, and ever since, the desire to sit down there never left me.

“NOSE TO TAIL EATING”: Fergus Henderson’s philosophy is crystal clear. Here, there’s no hierarchy between cuts — everything is meant to be eaten.

This spot, located in the chic Marylebone district, is the little sister of the original St. John. The latter was fully booked that evening, and also further from our hotel.

A raw, immaculate architecture, punctuated with metallic elements. White tablecloths, wooden chairs and banquettes. Understated, elegant. The service follows the same line: refined, incredibly kind, always offering spot-on advice.

Let’s eat.

We start by sharing: devilled chicken hearts, beef tongue, anchovies with radicchio, shredded skate with baby gem lettuce and capers, and veal with horseradish and radicchio. Divine. The balance is astonishing: bitterness, richness, acidity, freshness… everything perfectly in tune.

We carry on with braised Gloucester Old Spot pork and roast pigeon, served with a brilliant walnut pickle. English cheeses and a few sweets — including indulgent, freshly baked madeleines — bring this feast to a close.

A sharp wine list (though pricey — London + Brexit oblige), with a few natural selections.

Ten years of waiting, and not a single disappointment. On the contrary — exactly, if not even better, than I had hoped. Thank you, Nicky — you were with us that night.