The Goring

Beeston Pl, London

The silhouetted profiles of the various owners on the plates says everything about The Goring. The slim-faced chap on my plate was tagged ‘Jeremy Goring 2006-today’, my dining partner’s plate was adorned with a rather more Churchillian profile belonging to ‘OG Goring 1926-68’. If any restaurant – even among London’s plethora of old-school hotel restaurants – is proud of its heritage, then it’s The Goring. Last year, the hotel celebrated its centenary, hence the family portraits. As such it’s avoided the frippery of celeb chefs and the kind of modern-day cooking that often gains Michelin accolades. Instead, what you have is a good, old fashioned, belt-and-braces English fine-dining experience. It’s formal, but not pretentious. This is, after all, the same venue that became the command centre for the Chief of Allied Forces during the First World War and was also a former home to Lady Randolph Churchill, whose son Winston had a bit to do with the Second World War, apparently. It may be fine, but it’s got a jolly good Blighty backbone to it.

The menu echoes the history of The Goring. For instance, you just don’t see starters such as the late Queen Mother’s beloved Eggs Drumkilbo (lobster, crayfish in an egg, mayo and tomato sauce, topped with chicken jelly), very often these days. Similarly, deep-fried whitebait with tartare sauce; game terrine with pickled red cabbage and Cumberland sauce; Scotch egg with watercress and shallot dressing… these are the kind of culinary stalwarts whose presence reaffirms The Goring’s traditional stance. And the mains are equally reassuring. If you want good, hearty dishes packed full of nostalgia, what better than fillet of beef Wellington with a red wine sauce?

Straight off the trolley and presumably arriving from somewhere in the 1960s. The fillet is deep pink in all the right places with pastry that’s got the perfect crisp married to a soft underbelly; it’s melt-in-the-mouth. Side dishes that arrive in little copper pots add to the fun. Elsewhere you’ve got cod, chips and peas; poached baby chicken with root vegetables and celery broth; braised shoulder of venison – there’s even a steak and kidney pie. As English as English gets, it almost brings a tear to the eye. Gawd bless ’em!