A superb Ambassadeur’s reception
The Milroy
5 Hamilton Place, W1J 7ED,
Tel: 020 7317 6108
Cost per person without wine: £40
THOSE accustomed to the opulence of Les Ambassadeurs, the exclusive London casino, may not be blown away by the Milroy, its in-house restaurant. But now that it has opened to the public for lunch, those of us for whom the marble and mahogany-filled mansion off Park Lane has heretofore been off limits are in for a real treat. Not just because you feel like you’re hoi palloy washed up in a royal palace, but because everything else – food, service, views, interiors, atmosphere – are just right too.
The Milroy stands adjacent to Les Ambassadeurs at 5 Hamilton Place, on the site of one of Henry VIII’s hunting lodges (where didn’t Henry have a hunting lodge?), and has belonged to the Marquis Conyngham and Rothschild families. It was extravagantly remodelled by Leopold de Rothschild in the late 1870s, and English Heritage has maintained the fin-de-siècle Louis XV style that originally influenced its interiors.
We began with a drink in the dark panelled den that is the bar, nestled in plush arm-chairs overseen by paintings and etchings from a much older, and seemingly more jovial time. In due course we were led up some grand, deeply carpeted stairs to the dining room, a hall of green velvet, light and marble. I felt like I was entering Versailles as we were led to a side chamber with marble arches – gloriously embellished – and a massive window looking out onto Hyde Park. Settled thus, the sun beaming into the cool room, the large glass of pink champagne we began with seemed truly ebullient.
The food here is serious: chef Simon Foster was previously at Pierre Koffman’s famous La Tante Claire, and Claridges. In keeping with the setting he’s gone for a grand menu featuring a certain amount of fancy shmancy mousses and foams, but one that is also admirably restrained, down-to-earth, and just the way modern European food should be served these days. Ingredients are both locally sourced and imaginative and dishes range from the simple to the decadent. They are also generous, ultimately representing good value.
To start, who could resist kipper and Glenmorangie single malt pate served with sesame tuile? Not us: and it was a rich, robust paste whose flavours worked in edgy harmony. Every detail here is superb: the sesame tuile was in itself a delight; curved, faintly sweet and buttery. Seared yellow fin tuna with cauliflower puree and spicy tomato coulis was a hearty plate of pepper-crusted tuna hunks, red in the middle, and quite refreshing with its Mediterranean asides. My companion insists that the true test of a restaurant’s worth is its crab, and – having been recently let down by a well-known fish restaurant – she was delighted with the Portland king crab with lemon mayonnaise, mango and avocado salad. Indeed: it was refreshing in the extreme, the silky, slightly creamy meat lifted by the zingy salad.
Main courses include a “grills” section, from which I went for a sole meuniere (meat-lovers might enjoy the Scottish rib-eye with kidneys and chips); it was filetted for me by the table, and presented in full buttery, cotton-light glory. Scrumptious. My companion chose chargrilled calves’ liver: a beautifully rich dish embellished with treacly dry-cured bacon, rosemary gravy, cabbage and mash.
We finished this feast with a sculptural, delicate dessert of elderflower and lime jelly, mixed berries and crème fraiche, with the jelly in a cone on top. It cleansed rather than cloyed, and ensured we walked out feeling completely sated: full and happy. A meal that’s fit for a king.