After a celebration at the Cavalry and Guards Club in Piccadilly, we dropped into The Wolseley for dinner. I had the fish of the day – swordfish with an uncommonly good ratatouille – along with garlicky grilled field mushrooms. Antoine’s risotto with girolles was exquisite. “They didn’t skimp on butter and cream when they made that,” I remarked after tasting it. Luckily, the portion was quite modest.
Dessert is when the real magic happened, though. I ordered what the menu refers to as a lemon meringue: crushed meringues, lemon curd, lemon yoghurt ice cream, and toasted almond flakes. This sounds simple, and it was. The absolutely sky high quality of each component turned it into something other-worldly. Not a day has passed since this meal when I have not seriously considered jumping in a cab to The Wolseley and ordering a lemon meringue.
Sorry, no time to finish this post – I’ve got a taxi waiting…
[...] We’ve had a lot of social functions lately, where the food has been out of my hands. But also, I have been feeling a buzzy thing with my fiancé, where (WARNING: digusting talk ahead) I am just so totally thrilled to be with him that it seems life is too short not to have dinner at the Wolseley on a whim…and if I want to follow my swordfish and vegetables with a lemon meringue, well, so be it. [...]
[...] My procrastination was spurred on by reading the recipe of a cake Jean-François Piège (chef at Les Ambassadeurs) recalled from his childhood. Clotilde Dusolier, a food blogger and soon-to-be-published food author in Paris who I’ve met with twice (once at The Wolseley, once in a Paris café), read the recipe in French Elle and shared it on her blog. It looked so easy, even for a non-baker like me, that I had to try it. [...]
[...] I blogged about this one previously. At lunch there on Tuesday, I could not resist seconds. It was as dreamy as I’d remembered. [...]