Murano, mayfair
Murano, mayfair (££££)
I thought it would only be fair, this being the first review of a Michelin-starred restaurant, to talk a little about those infamous stars. By no means is this an exhaustive list of the best and brightest restaurants, nor are all restaurants on the list necessarily at the top of their game, but if you’re holding a star or two, or even three, you know to some extent you’re going to get a good meal. Restaurants seem to strive to achieve them, punters strive to eat at them, and your wallets learn to avoid them. It seems that the one thing that can be assured is that any number of stars is synonymous with high prices.
The (obvious to me) question is then, "Well, is [insert Michelin-starred restaurant] worth it?" I can’t answer for every single restaurant (although I will try, one plate at a time), but today I can answer the Murano question.
Murano is one of two restaurants that Angela Hartnett took to Michelin star fame, the other being the now-closed Angela Hartnett at The Connaught. It is a modern Italian restaurant with noticeable pan-European influences. Walking in, you immediately feel a difference compared to other good restaurants. Murano feels intimate, with probably no more than just over a dozen covers. The floor is carpeted, and the bar—right by where you walk in—is small but impressive; everything from the carpet to the placement of chairs by each table to the lights feels meticulously planned.
The menu follows a simple premise: there is a range of courses on offer, from starters, pastas, fish, ‘meat’, and desserts, and you choose how many of those courses you want, with a minimum of three courses. Following sound advice—always seek advice—we went for four courses: starter, pasta, main dish, and dessert. Accompanying the food menu was, and you’d again expect nothing less, a hefty (but not the heftiest I’ve seen) wine list. Our hero for the evening was almost definitely the sommelier, who not just helped us choose our wine but did so with great joy, with us finally trusting him to try a wine "a little different to what we might normally expect". I now have a new favourite white wine.
After ordering, I came to the realisation that the mark of a good Italian doesn’t lie in its pasta or wine, but in its bread and cured meat. No crusty white or seeded bread rolls here, but a joyous basket of rosemary focaccia, sourdough, and garlic grissini, with high-quality olive oil and prosciutto. And as you can expect, the bread was wonderful: the focaccia was soft and fluffy, the seasoning was perfectly balanced with salt and rosemary, and the sourdough was crisp and had a rich wholemeal flavour.
In good time came our starters—for me, the veal crudo, aged parmesan, almond cream, and dill. A wonderful start, texturally brilliant between the soft and buttery veal, the crisp parmesan, and the smooth almond cream, and in terms of flavour, excellent. The crudo was well seasoned, but managed to stay tasting light with a great steak of acidity running through it. The only shame about this dish was the almond cream being so cold—I've had ice cream warmer! It seemed every other bite was a hit of cold against your teeth—a shame to an otherwise wonderful start.
Next up, in true Italian fashion, was the pasta course. A throwback to my manteca review: here was the battle of the duck ragu. Introduced and then adorned with a wonderful velouté, I had the duck fagottini, Moscato velouté, and radicchio. I could drink gallons of that velouté. Gallons. The pasta was, as you’d expect from a Michelin-starred Italian restaurant, cooked well, with a rich and well-filled filling of duck. The rich ragu was nicely offset by the sweet velouté and again by the sweet and crisp radicchio. Only three small parcels, but three great parcels.
It was tough to decide between fish or meat—for a Tuesday evening, both felt a bit too much. In the end, we decided on fish, which is a bit healthier (what a lie we tell ourselves), but also an apparent star here. Alas, maybe meat would have been the right choice? The red mullet was cooked perfectly, flaky inside with a well-seasoned crispy skin, but it felt a little lonely. It was served on a well-seasoned puree, but set to the side were simple assorted boiled vegetables. Okay, there were a few drops of lemon curd amongst the vegetables, but it felt a little incomplete, especially compared to the well-constructed dishes I had before. Maybe a curse of the Michelin star, the bar being set so high.
By now, I was comfortable. The dishes, while not massive, were rich, and I did have an impressive amount of bread. However, despite not having a sweet tooth, the dessert menu did look unfortunately exciting. What happened in the next few minutes I have zero regrets for. I could have happily paid and left, but no. So… I ordered the banana soufflé and dulce de leche ice cream. Simply incredible. The soufflé was soft but had a perfectly cooked outer and had such a concentrated flavour without tasting fake. In addition, the ice cream had a deep, rich flavour that was sweet without being sickly. You couldn’t help but smile when the soufflé was placed in front of you and your server scored the top before spooning in the ice cream. It was a joyous ritual, one I will happily be a part of again.
To conclude? By no means a cheap meal, definitely one for special occasions, but also by no means a letdown. Wonderful food influenced by Italy and beyond, all excellent, and noticeably excellent staff to serve it. Whilst Angela may not cook (or visit) Murano anymore, there’s no reason not to consider it. If you want a classic fine dining experience with an excellent bread basket, then Murano could be for you.