It’s hard to know what we’re paying for anymore. In restaurants, I mean. Sometimes it’s the food. Sometimes the lighting. Sometimes it’s the logo on the menu, or the fact the waiter wears cufflinks. And sometimes, it’s just the postcode.
Which is why we’re launching this column – Fine and Dime – a monthly look at both ends of the dining spectrum. The big-ticket tasting menus with wine lists longer than your CV, and the hole-in-the-wall pasta bars you stumble into half-cut on a Tuesday. Because both deserve our attention. Both can be brilliant. And both, occasionally, take the piss.
Here, we’ll be comparing the two – not in a versus kind of way, but more as a reminder that great cooking doesn’t need white linen or a seaweed foam. Sometimes it costs £250. Sometimes it costs £10. Sometimes it even comes with a glass of wine for a fiver and a man puffing on a cigar out front.
Most of the places will be in London – that’s where I live, and more to the point, where I spend my own money. But not all. Great food isn’t confined to a postcode, and neither is this column. Expect the odd trip beyond the capital when time, trains and overdraft limits allow.
This month, we’ve got Gordon Ramsay’s new chef’s table in the clouds – a dark, glittering tasting menu pitched squarely at the red book – and a new Soho pasta spot slinging pumpkin ravioli with amaretto and absolutely no bookings. Fine. Dime. Let’s go.
Fine dining at 300 metres: Gordon Ramsay’s High soars above expectation
This £250 tasting menu in the sky could be another box-ticking vanity project – instead, it’s inventive, precise and, surprisingly, fun.
If Gordon Ramsay’s restaurants were family members, the latest – Gordon Ramsay High – would be the overachieving younger sibling, newly graduated from Le Cordon Bleu and already being whispered about by Michelin.
It sits 60 floors above London in 22 Bishopsgate, part of a five-strong Ramsay land grab that includes a Bread Street Kitchen, a Lucky Cat, a Japanese garden terrace bar and, for those with stamina (and a driver), a rooftop bar open till 3am. There’s even a cookery school. But High is the showpiece: a 12-seater chef’s table with a view of the Tower of London, Tower Bridge and, if you squint, the financial optimism of Canary Wharf.
It is, depending on your mood, either a Bond villain’s lair or a billionaire’s private dining room – all dark wood, modern chandeliers and the creeping sense that you should have worn better shoes.
Gordon Ramsay High
Good to know
Chef: James Goodyear (ex-Evelyn’s Table, Hide Above, Adam’s)
Seats: 12 at the counter, chef’s table only
View: Tower Bridge, The Shard, Canary Wharf (if the weather behaves)
Tasting menu: 12 courses, £250pp
Wine pairing: Available – ask (but don’t ask the price)
Dress code: They don’t say, but maybe don’t come straight from spin
Michelin potential? Strong yes – inspectors have already been
Behind the counter is executive chef James Goodyear, formerly of Evelyn’s Table, Adam’s and Hide Above – places where technique isn’t optional. He and his team serve a 12-course tasting menu for £250. Wine is extra. The price suggests seriousness; the food does too – but not in the way you might expect.
This is, in many ways, a textbook tasting menu. A procession of canapés, a bread course, white fish, a game bird, a duo of desserts. And yet what’s impressive is how often it sidesteps cliché. Where others rehearse the genre, High rethinks it.
A gougère filled with comté and topped with Ibérico ham and fino sherry gel sets the tone – rich, precise, slightly absurd. Then come the usual suspects: sea bream tart with pine nut cream, a horseradish-spiked oyster piped into a porcelain shell, and a sablé topped with onion cream and caviar – like French onion soup in black tie.
Langoustine, fried in a nest of crisp vermicelli, is paired with a Mary Rose sabayon – a creamy, tangy cloud that recalls the 1970s classic without the unfortunate prawn cocktail trappings. A lentil and truffle velouté arrives disguised as a flat white: warm foam above a savoury, luxurious broth.
Each plate lands with quiet confidence. White asparagus with caviar and blood orange sauce vierge looks tweezered but eats generously. A hefty Isle of Skye scallop, lightly crumbed and seared, is nestled beside peas and chamomile foam. Chamomile is the gamble – too much and you’re drinking sleepy tea – but here it floats just behind the sweetness, a quiet floral chord.
Turbot is just-cooked pearlescent, sitting in a seaweed beurre blanc. Familiar, yes, but given new life by baby Jersey Royals and a seaweed and black garlic condiment – mellow, sweet and resonant, like a low note that hums long after the fork’s been set down.
Then comes duck – from Sladesdown Farm – with a stuffed morel so large it might have its own gym membership. A shiitake XO sauce, full of ginger and madeira, clings to the meat like silk on a supermodel. On the side: two golden doughnuts, warm and crisp, stuffed with duck trimmings. A dish with its sleeves rolled up – plush, playful and not remotely shy.
Dessert here isn’t an afterthought. At High, they’re designed for people who prefer cheese (a category I fall firmly into). The Basque cheesecake, laced with Rove de Garrigues – a grassy Provençal goat’s cheese – is barely sweet at all, like the kitchen forgot they’d moved on from mains. It’s not a complaint. Rhubarb with champagne, rose and olive oil is the palate cleanser, but not a throwaway. And finally, a toasted grain, whisky, malt and miso number that’s part ice cream sandwich, part savoury biscuit tin – nutty, creamy, quietly boozy. It’s not fireworks, but something rarer: a dessert that ends things on a murmur, not a bang – confident that by now, it already has your attention.
What’s most striking is the restraint. Yes, there’s caviar, truffle, the view, the name above the door. But nothing feels overworked. Each course is measured, each flourish has purpose. Word is Michelin has already been – and if they’re not aiming for three stars, they’re certainly cooking like they are.
It’s all the more surprising given the surroundings. Ramsay’s filled the rest of 22 Bishopsgate with his greatest hits – a Bread Street Kitchen here, a Lucky Cat there – restaurants that tick boxes without quickening pulses. But tucked up in the clouds, he’s reserved space for something genuinely spectacular.
The bigger question isn’t whether it deserves a star (it does – plenty of star-holders are phoning it in by comparison). It’s whether it stands out. And the answer, happily, is yes. For a restaurant that ticks every box of modern fine dining, High still manages to delight. It plays the tune, but inverts it. Where others lean on formality, High has fun. Where others go heavy, it finds lift.
And more to the point, it’s not boring. Which, at £250 a head, might just be the biggest flex of all.
Gordon Ramsay High, 22 Bishopsgate, London EC2N 4BQ
Open: Tuesday to Saturday, from 7.00pm
Price: £250 per person for the tasting menu
Booking essential
www.gordonramsayrestaurants.com/high/bishopsgate | 020 7592 1618 | RGRHigh@gordonramsay.com
Low stakes, high reward: Soho’s new pasta bar might be the city’s best cheap eat
No bookings, £5 wine and handmade pasta that punches well above its price tag – what’s not to love?
If you’ve ever spent an hour wandering Soho in search of a decent meal without a booking, you’ll know the options are grim. Fast food chains (if my fiance suggests Cheatmeals one more time…), sad slices, standing queues. So when a spot opens that promises fresh handmade pasta, friendly service and a glass of wine for a fiver – and doesn’t require a reservation – it feels almost suspicious. But 27 Old Compton Street delivers. No gimmicks, no gotchas – just good food, fair prices and the comforting sense that, for once, there isn’t a catch.
It’s the latest from Nima Safaei, whose Soho setlist already includes 40 Dean Street and 64 Old Compton Street. Where those spots lean trattoria – candlelit, classic, booked for months – this one is his most casual yet. The menu is brief, the tables few, but the cooking has precision and warmth. Inspired by the Italian tavola calda – literally “hot table” – it’s more a pocket-sized pasta bar with heart than a canteen, with only 17 seats (plus a few more downstairs).
27 Old Compton Street
Good to know
Style: Tavola calda – Italian for “hot table”
Menu highlights: Pumpkin ravioli with amaretto, black crab tortelloni
Seating: 17 upstairs, a few more tucked below
Bookings: None – walk-ins only
Drinks: Wine from £5, cocktails available
Vibe: Fast, friendly, unpretentious – come as you are
Best time to go: Now, before the queues start
The concept is simple: fresh pasta made daily (to take away and gobble down on the way to the Tube, if you like), sauces that taste like someone cares in the kitchen, wine that starts at £5 a glass. No, really. Even three days after opening, it had regulars – including one man puffing a cigar outside, back for his second visit of the day.
We shared everything, which is the way to do it. Arancini arrived first: crisp, golden orbs on parmesan cream. Textbook. So was the burrata, with grilled aubergine and sticky-sweet tomatoes – a glorified mozzarella ball dressed up for dinner, even if you’re not. Reliable warm-ups, the kind of familiar you want before a more interesting headliner.
That’s definitely the pumpkin ravioli – a dish that veers sweet, savoury and somewhere intriguingly in-between. It’s gently spiked with amaretto (which Safaei cheekily reveals when I point out it’s not on the menu), lending it a soft, almondy perfume that could tip into pudding if it weren’t for the salty sage butter and Parmesan. Too much for a whole bowl, perhaps – but shared among other dishes, it works. A curveball, but oddly compelling.
Other pastas are less theatrical but no less satisfying. A conchiglie ragu swaps beef for octopus, slow-cooked into submission and clinging to the shells like it was born to. There’s black crab tortelloni in a glossy tomato and basil sauce – which the chefs sensibly resist the urge to overdo. A quiet reminder that not every dish needs to shout to be memorable. The aubergine parmigiana is rich and soft, tucked under a lava flow of tomato and parmesan.
The menu balances crowd-pleasers for the cautious with curveballs for the curious. Something for pasta snobs and beige food devotees alike. Everyone leaves full and happy. The portions are generous and the pricing is kind: £10-£15 a bowl, £5-£7 for starters and wine by the glass at London-defying prices. You won’t leave hungry, nor short-changed. The wine list is short and smart – all Italian, poured in proper glasses. No faffing with vintages. No one’s coming for Burgundy (apart from me), but at £5 a glass, it’s far better than you’d expect: approachable without being boring, affordable without compromise.
Service is fast (but not in that microwave-whoosh-ding kind of way), friendly and refreshingly unfussy. You get the sense that they know exactly what this place is meant to be: not flashy, just good. The music, on the other hand, could use tweaking – thumping beats aren’t quite the vibe when the tables are this close and the room this small. A bit of Mina or Lucio Battistic wouldn’t go amiss. You know you’re getting on a bit when you have to ask them to turn it down. But then, Safaei is known just as much for partying as he is running successful Soho restaurants.
It’s a minor note. Because what 27 gets right, it really gets right. The price, the pace, the pasta – all of it adds up to something smart and generous. It feels spontaneous, which is a rare thing in a city where dinner often requires a spreadsheet. You can walk in off the street, eat something delicious and be gone in 45 minutes. Or stay longer, drink more wine and watch Soho pass by.
Pop in alone, post-pub, pre-theatre, mid-existential crisis. With friends, a date, your mum or your ex you’re trying to be friends with. It’s flexible like that, but the real appeal is its ease: no planning ahead, no whispering in reverence, no portrait of Lenin glaring at you while you chew. It’s just pasta – quick, fresh, delicious – and in a postcode stuffed with pretenders, ease and honesty might be the only luxuries that matter.
27 Old Compton Street, Soho, London W1D 5JS
Open: Monday to Wednesday 12-12pm, Thursday to Saturday 12-1am, Sunday 12-12pm
Price: Pasta £10-15, starters from £5, wine from £5 a glass
Walk-ins only
www.27oldcomptonstreet.com | 020 7183 5467 | info@27oldcomptonstreet.com
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