As Fitzrovia’s Michelin-starred Pied à Terre marks its 35th anniversary — a feat of extraordinary endurance in the merciless world of London dining — Alex Larman discovers whether David Moore’s beloved Charlotte Street institution still delivers the magic that has made it one of the capital’s most treasured tables…
For a restaurant to last a decade in London is a remarkable achievement. For it to be celebrating its 35th year is a truly astonishing accomplishment, but very few places manage this in the notoriously cutthroat world of metropolitan dining. Which is why David Moore’s deservedly Michelin-starred Fitzrovia establishment stands out. Unlike most of its neighbours, which come and go by the year, Pied à Terre is one of the great stalwarts of high end cuisine. You have the impression that if ever it disappeared from the capital, it would have a seismic effect not dissimilar to the ravens leaving the Tower of London.
None of this excellence comes cheap, and it is no surprise that the standard 5-course lunch menu starts at £125 per head, although – and this says a lot about London’s extraordinarily high prices – there is also something of a good-value deal in the form of the ‘Pied à Terre Complet’, which offers three courses with wine pairings, an aperitif, canapes, bread, water and coffee for £175 per head. Yet to celebrate the 35th anniversary of the restaurant, Moore and his new head chef Aggelos Kassais are offering something that is almost a giveaway: two courses for £35, including a canape, on the so-called ‘anniversary menu’. By the standards of Michelin-starred restaurants, this is astonishingly good value, and before you can say ‘David Moore’, Larry and I were bound for Charlotte Street one Wednesday early evening.
The first thing that you notice when heading into Pied à Terre, under the decidedly capable control of Moore himself and GM Suze Allan, is that it radiates the kind of unhurried calm that lesser establishments seldom manage to muster. When you walk into the intimate, well-lit dining room, and sit down at one of the cosy tables that somehow, blessedly, allows you both to hear what your dining companion has to say and also not to feel funereally hushed, you have the feeling that everything is right in the world.
Aperitifs are offered, in the form of an excellent, tequila-based house Negroni, and then we settle down to contemplate the anniversary menu. It is somehow typical of the restaurant that you can either enjoy it on its own, or add on various extras, which include canapes of ‘fish and chips’ or a ‘green symphony’. The former is Kassais’ ingenious take on that particular British classic in miniature form, complete with cod tempura and a mushy pea doughnut, and the latter shows just how adept the kitchen is at plant-based cuisine, which is something of a mainstay of the menu now.
The anniversary menu proper kicks off with a pair of starters, both of which we sample. There’s a fine red mullet dish, served with fennel and bottarga in its own bisque, but perhaps even more interesting is the candy beetroot, served with a colourful assembly of miso and goma ricotta, apple gel and pearl onion. It’s a symphony of flavours that belies any idea that plant-based dishes have to be boring, and is all the more delectable for a pairing by the able sommelier of some truly exceptional wines, including a wonderful 2023 Bourgogne Blanc and a rather dashing Ollieux Romanis from the Languedoc.
Moore, a man of both style and generosity, then suggests that we try a couple of a la carte dishes in order to get a comprehensive flavour of the menu, which we merrily assent to. A crab course is a sumptuous balance between sweetness and savoury, but even better is what follows, a beautifully presented cod dish with beurre blanc and artfully arranged courgette, which is almost too stunning an aesthetic object to eat.
But eat it we do, even as we have deep appreciation for the wine pairings, a fine Markus Molitor Riesling and a bone-dry 2020 Ômar. The impression given here is not of a restaurateur who just wants to get as much money as he can out of his patrons – because that does not lead to future patronage – but of someone who has a genuine interest in giving people a good time and offering them proper value for money, too.
It is of a piece with this generosity that the main course, when it arrives, of quail ballotine is quite stunning. It is presented as a kind of quail sausage, complete with fricassee and egg yolk, and the whole concoction becomes a moreish savoury treat. The wine pairings have yet to disappoint, and do not do so now; a Bruce Jack Pinot Noir from South Africa, aptly named There Will Be Mysteries, is a smoothly unctuous vintage that goes down an absolute treat.
By this point in the meal, Larry and I are both feeling a great sense of contentment and peace with the world. We sample a generous selection of the Beillevaire cheeseboard, of which the blue cheese is my favourite, but Larry will have what he calls his ‘stinky French cheeses’, and these are offered in some quantity. In what has turned into an impromptu tasting menu of sorts, we end with a delicious pre-dessert of clementine, the so-called ‘celebration of clementine’, followed by a more substantial passion fruit cremeux, which we wash down with a calvados (here) and a decaffeinated espresso (for him).
It comes, of course, with petit fours – boxed jellies and canelés – which prove a fitting flourish. Then, a good three hours after we finish, it’s time to depart, with warm wishes and a genuine sense that we’ve had a truly splendid experience. Suze bids us farewell and says “make sure that you come back and see us soon, won’t you?” Honestly, wild horses would not drag us away from this London classic. Here’s to the next three and a half decades.
Pied a Terre, 34 Charlotte St., London W1T 2NH. Now with extended opening hours. The anniversary menus will be changing frequently and availability may vary. The latest menus and booking information can be found at www.pied-a-terre.co.uk.
