ST JOHN, marylebone
ST JOHN marylebone, marylebone (£££)
Most reviews of any St John restaurant start the same… you’ll read - in some way or another - that St John is simply an institution. You’ll read that you only need to say you are going to St John before all your foodie friends nod in unison and go “yes very good, very good”. They’re not wrong though - it is pretty good.
ST John Marylebone is the newest real St John restaurant by Fergus Henderson and co. Simple but bold British fare, and encapsulating nose-to-tail eating at its finest, St JOHN has acquired a reputation for no nonsense food and drink, with an emphasis on having a good time. For those “in the know” you smile as you’re walked through to your table, seeing the clinical-esque white walls, you know what’s coming because you know what St John encapsulates. (and if you don’t, after one visit you will know)
St John has mastered the humble-brag! The attitude to the food is relaxed, emphasised by the only menu being on a chalkboard above the tables. Unlike their Smithfield flagship, Marylebone is based off of a small plates ethos; food made to share. After some words of wisdom from our waitress, we ordered four dishes and a dessert to share.
Smoked sprat, horseradish
First up came the smoked sprat and horseradish. Here was a masterclass in balancing what are normally considered powerful flavours; the subtly of the horseradish just cut through the fish to offer a well rounded bite (and with this dish, that totalled to about four). The crunchy sprat sat on top a loosened horseradish sauce, it went as quickly as it came.
Very soon after we got our next dish, and at this stage eagerly awaiting our next few bites. In true nose to tail fashion, next up was crispy pig skin, in a salad of chicory and shallots, dressed with a vinaigrette with capers. With all of the dishes at St John there’s nowhere to hide - with twelve (thirteen on some days?) items on the menu each dish has to be executed perfectly. As you can expect there was no need to hide with this dish - another marriage of flavours executed well.
crispy pig skin, chicory, and shallots
Our next, and penultimate dish, came with instructions (!!!). A beetroot salad (beetroot, red cabbage, chervil, and crème fraiche) to mix at the table - I’m struggling to find reasons why this had to be done at the table, but it was fun, and made for great before and after photos. Fresh and bold, this was one I’d make at home (or try to), but sat alone at the table here it did feel a little incomplete. It was maybe only now that I realised this experience was a little like playing the slots; intermittent periods of joy, with my wallet undeniably a little lighter at the end.
Our final dish came at last, the heavy hitter of the bunch - lambs liver, butterbeans, and anchovy. If throughout the meal you forgot this was British cuisine, this dish was a welcome reminder. It was warming, full of flavour, but still somehow felt wonderfully polished.
lambs liver, butterbeans, and anchovy
Throughout the meal I was thinking, how am I rating this? The food was wonderful, the atmosphere relaxed, the service attentive… but it just felt like something was missing throughout. I think what was missing was the sense of a journey, making my way through dishes, rather than stop-start here. However, this was all forgotten by the time we got to dessert. Those godforsaken madeleines. After our final plate was taken away we were asked if we wanted anything sweet to end with, and hearing so much about the famous St John madeleines we thought “why not?”. There’s a reason they’re so talked about, and why many a review will be saying something along this line. They were soft, warm, and - it feels weird to say this here - wonderfully French.
1/2 a dozen felt appropriate, but a full dozen wouldn’t have been too much.
1/2 dozen madeleines
Will I be back? With a seasonal menu changing daily, I know I will, if not just to stop by and have 1/2 dozen madeleines. It felt perfect for a light-ish lunch with a friend, although as mentioned it did come with a bit of a price-tag. If you do go, just go a little wild, you won’t regret it.