A jewel in the gastronomic wasteland of Wandsworth Common, Chez Bruce has a reputation that no amount of money or marketing skill could fix. Though it's been around for 16 years, since Bruce Poole and Nigel Platts-Martin took over what used to be Harvey's (legendary first home of Marco Pierre White in his days of rage), I don't think I've ever heard a diner utter a disobliging word about it. Gruff metropolitans who can't abide cheffy pretensions and gussied-up food find a tear in their eye when they mention Chez Bruce. In the Harden's London Restaurants guide, it's been voted the city's favourite eating house five years running.
I think I know why. The aubergine ironwork of its frontage and its mildly ridiculous name both hint that this is a place that doesn't take itself very seriously – but at heart it's deeply serious about both food and taking care of punters. From start to finish, you feel agreeably pampered and indulged here, without any trace of pretence or theatricality.
The dining room is simply designed in neutral tones and given extra depth by a cunning arrangement of mirrors. The lighting contrives to be both dimly intimate but bright enough to let you read the menu. We ate there on a dead Thursday in mid-August, when you'd imagine most of Wandsworth's well-heeled bourgeois would be away, sunning themselves in Hvar or Key West, but the place was packed – lots of couples, much glamour, a few evening clutch bags. It's evidently become a 'destination restaurant' for north and west Londoners venturing out on their intrepid, daredevil, once-a-year trip south of the river.
Read more at http://www.independent.co.uk
No comments:
Post a Comment