The Heat Is On (and that's no joke)

ROCKET and balsamic ice cream – was Malmaison trying to ape Heston ‘snail porridge’ Blumenthal?

Perhaps mercifully, given the Michelin-starred chef’s ability to make headlines recently for the wrong reasons, this was the only avant-garde sounding nibble on an otherwise straightlaced menu.

My other half and I had been enticed into the swanky hotel’s brasserie by its Homegrown Menu promotion – two people get two courses each, plus a bottle of house wine and coffees, for £29 (plus 10 per cent service charge) until the end of April.

Sitting in the funky basement, we soon felt the heat – perhaps radiating from the exposed, dark overhead pipework.

Being a cynic, I wondered if this was a ploy to flog overpriced mineral water, and resolved to swig only the red wine that we chose, rightly or wrongly, in preference to white. This turned out to be a middling, but juicy, South African Cabernet Sauvignon blend.

The menu stated the grub hailed from city traders such as Aldens and Haymans. So, rather than pick mains and desserts, we opted for starters and mains, deciding to consider puds if we had room. I asked for roast vegetable salad to begin, and the good lady ordered ham hock terrine.

These arrived promptly with a basket of warm walnut bread (which turned out to be on the house). My roast veg was a somewhat dainty concoction, but the terrine was a decent slab of meat in an egg and mustard gribiche sauce.

There was little to complain about when the main dishes – fillet of flounder with French-style peas for me, confit of duck with cabbage for her – arrived, although we thought it best to stump up an additional £2.95 for sweet potato mash (a portion big enough to share).

My girlfriend found there was more meat on the leg of duck than expected, too. All good. But as the temperature rose, the atmosphere seemed to cool.

Although the place was no busier than most on a Wednesday, the staff seemed unwilling (or unable?) to serve dessert – even though the two scoops of ice cream we eventually shared were excellent (the surprisingly moreish rocket surpassing the fruit salad flavour).

We waited an eternity for our coffees – cafetieres, incidentally, not just cups – and, although our imaginations may have become feverish as a result of the heatwave conditions, I swear the waitress hid her gaze from us using a menu, rather than stop at our table.

Hence I had to go up and beg to settle the bill, rather than risk missing our bus.

Overall, the meal was good value at £40 all in, but the poor service spoiled the evening. And someone ought to check the thermostat.

PAUL STAMMERS