At 12.30 pm on 11th December 1999 we – four middle aged men and a stylishly dressed younger woman – walked up the steps to the door of Le Gavroche in Upper Grosvenor Street in London, handed our coats to the smiling receptionist and made our way down the stairs inside to the dining room. We were guided to a table covered with ranks of glittering glasses and winking silver. We were upright, clear of eye, steady of foot, with full heads of hair, cheek bones, and one chin per sibling. We had gathered for the first Fort Family Offal Lunch.
We sat down to Les Bonbons d’Agneau à la Vinaigrette de Truffes; Salade de Crete et Coeur de Coq á L’huile de Noix; Beignets de Cervelle d’Agneau et de Veau, Persille Frit et Sauce Tartare; Pied de Cochons Farci et Oreille Panée, Endives Braisée au Porto; Langue de Veau en Pot-au-Feu, Crouton à la Moelle; Andouillette et Sabodet de Lyon, Selection de Moutarde, Pommes de Terre á L’Huile; Tripes en Cocotte Lutée; Coeur de Boeuf Braisé à L’Ancienne et Pommes Mousseline; La Grande Assiette de Ris, Rognons, Foie et Pieds de Veau; Le Delices Glacé au Tokzji Aszu; Cafe et Petits Fours.
Each course was matched to a different wine – Chignin Bergeron 1997 – Louise Magnin; Chateau Larrivet Haut Brito Blanc 1995; Pouilly Fumé ‘Silex’ 1998 v- D. Dagueneau; Chassagne Montrachet ‘Millenium’ 1998; -J. Noel Gagnard; Pommard ‘Rugiens’ 1988 – Hubert de Montille; Terre Blanche – Cuvé Aurelia 1988 – Noel Michelin; Côte Rosie 1981 – Robert Jasmin; Chateau La Croix 1989; Royal Tokaji Aszu – Birsalma’s ‘5 Puttonyos’ 1991.
It was not only an exhibition of culinary mastery and gastronomic delight, it was the first time, we realised, that we had sat down together without the company of parents, wives, children or others of any kind. We tucked into the food with gusto and celebrated our pleasure in each other’s company.
And so it has continued ever since for twenty six years bar one.Covid lockdown caused the only break in 25 years of seamless celebration. Over the years there are few interior body parts of sheep, pork, beef, chicken, and even fish that we haven’t eaten: liver, kidneys, hearts,heads, sweetbreads, brains, spleen, tripe, tongue, udder, cocks’ combs, cock’s testicles, rams’ testicles, gizzards, monkfish liver, pig’s blood, cods’ tongue and throat, far more than our offal-loving parents ever dreamed of, all cooked with skill and judgement.
But now those delights will be no more. In January one of the great dining institutions of our day will close its door forever. Gone not only the annual delights of animal organs, but gone, too, the emerald green velvet banquettes, the holly green walls bedecked with pictures of mixed quality, the discrete lighting, the measured calm, the confidant choreography of the service, the steady buzz of conversation, ordered sequence of dishes, deft pouring of wine, the salvo of canapés that announce the formal beginning of the meal, the discrete removal of plates cleaned of ingredients and sauce, the pin stripe suits and silk ties and silver hair and chic dresses and chicer jewel of the supporting cast.
Le Gavroche, or simply Gavroche as the people who work there call it, is unique in the history of British haute gastronomy. For over fifty years it has been icon, legend, landmark, guiding light, training ground, upholder of standards, in short a temple of delight and the embodiment of sophisticated French haute cuisine. It was opened by Albert and Michel Roux in 1967 in Lower Sloane Street. In 1972 Michel went off to create his own Xanadu, the Waterside Inn in Bray, leaving Albert the undisputed king of Le Gavroche. It moved to it’s present more opulent location in Upper Grosvenor Street in 1981. In 1974 it became the first restaurant to be awarded a Michelin star 1982, followed by a second and then a third star in 1991.
Albert Roux was a stumpy, powerfully built man with a rolling gate, shrewd, expressive eyes and an iron grip. He believed in the principles of classic French cuisine and the virtues of hard work. At that time French haute cuisine was, as it had always been, the benchmark by which restaurants in the UK had long been judged. There had always been talented chefs practising French cooking, but the Roux brothers established an altogether higher level of expectation. The restaurant’s customer base was largely made up of discerning, monied English Francophiles in the mould of the Cazalet family, for whom the Roux brothers had been private chefs when they first moved to England.
Many of Le Gavroche dishes – Soufflée Suisesse, Omelette Rothschild, Caneton Gavroche, Poulet Fermier aux Morilles et au Madère , Artichaut Lucullus – became recognised as classics, produced by chefs with absolute mastery of French batterie de cuisine, with its stern discipline and unremitting attention to detail. Consequently the kitchen attracted a cadre of the country’s most ambitious young chefs, among them Rowley Leigh, Gordon Ramsay, Marco Pierre White, Monica Galletti, Marcus Wareing, Stephen Terry and Rachel Humphrey, who themselves went on to imbue a generation of young British’s chefs with the Rouxian principles and passion. Consequently we owe a great part of the astonishing improvement in culinary standards in the UK that we enjoy today to the Roux brothers.
But creating a great restaurant is not simply about making wonderful dishes. Those dishes have to be brought to their respective tables with matching style and skill by waiters who share the same goals as the chefs. Again, Albert was a visionary in matters of service. In this he had a remarkable colleague, Silvano Geraldine, who joined Le Gavroche as maitre d’hotel when it opened in 1971 and worked there for the remainder of his professional life.
Silvano was peerless, the impeccable master the front of house. Immaculately turned out, neat and trim, with an eye that missed no detail or action, there was something terrifying about Silvano. He ran his empire with fearsome discipline and unswerving attention to detail. As a result of Silvano’s steely resolve, beady eye and graceful authority, the experience of dining at Le Gavroche was not unlike that of riding in a Bentley Continental. You were born along in greatest luxury with smooth but irresistible power.
In 1999 I applied to do a week’s stage as a waiter at Le Gavroche. I thought that if I was going to criticise a restaurant, I should at least have the decency to know what I was writing about. I’m not pretending that I could learn a lifetime of skill in one week, but at least I could know something. Silvano was brave enough to take me on. On my first day one of the regulars summoned Silvano over at the end of his lunch.
‘Silvano, who’s the old bloke you got working for you?,’ the diner asked. Silvano explained that I was an elderly uncle in need of a job.
That week was a revelation. I got some glimmering of the passion, energy, skill and purpose that goes into top class service. By the time a guest had descended the stairs into the dining room and made their way to their table, the relevant team of waiters would have worked out what dishes the guest was likely to order, how much they’d be prepared to spend on wine and how familiarly or otherwise they would prefer to be addressed. I reckoned that even the most humble waiter at Le Gavroche was as skilled as a brain surgeon.
On my last evening some mysterious transformation had taken place. I was standing at the bottom of the dining room stairs when an elderly gentleman of military bearing came up to me, by-passing all the other layers of service hierarchy, including Silvano. He grasped me firmly by the hand..
‘I just want to thank you,’ the elderly man said, looking me straight in the eye.’We’ve had the most marvellous evening, and congratulations on keeping the standards of service at Le Gavroche up to scratch,’ and made his way up the stairs. It was never going to get any better.
When Albert handed over the reigns to his son, Michel, in 1991, the restaurant sailed on with stately majesty. It may have lost a star in the judgement of the Guide Michelin, but it lost none of its allure as far as its devotees were concerned. It continued to exemplify a kind of experience matched by no other restaurant in London, a experience that embraced food, drink, service and a kind of ineffable – I was going to say luxury, but luxury is one dimensional – comfort, something much rarer. Comfort relaxes you, makes you feel at home, puts you in the frame of mind spirit to enjoy yourself.
I once hosted a lunch there for a few of my colleagues at The Guardian. Few of them had had experience of eating in a restaurant of Le Gavroche’s quality. Most of them had the very British attitude that such places weren’t for the likes of them. Too snooty, too posh, too expensive. I was detirmined to prove them wrong.
By the time lunch was over I don’t think there was anyone whose eyes hadn’t been opened by the experience, or at the least didn’t look at Le Gavroche in a different light. Fine dining may be about money but it isn’t, or should not be, about snobbery. Perhaps none of my Guardian colleagues went back, but they understood that the essence of hospitality is about treating all people the same irrespective of background, making them feel relaxed and at home so that they may enjoy the exquisite refinement of the dishes and the subtle mastery of the service. Places like Le Gavroche are open to anyone, everyone – as long as you’re prepared to pay the prices, naturally. It’s a matter of choice.
In 1991 Albert handed the keeping of Le Gavroche to his son Michel, and went about the business of being a consultant chef, a calling that suited his restless nature.
Ostensibly nothing changed. The Le Gavroche classics remained in their time honoured place. To the observant, however, subtle changes in style and substance indicated a fresh intelligence introducing light and shade to gravity of the Le Gavroche style. The celebrated Soufflé Suisesse was reduced from two soufflés to one (it remains a dish of seductive richness nevertheless). The levels of cream and butter receded a little. Asian and Italian influences could be spotted in the dishes on the daily Prix Fixe Menu, always one of the great bargains of high end eating in London.
But that sense of being cosseted and cherished, that you were in a safe pair of hands, that all was right with the world even if it wasn’t, flowed on. Le Gavroche may have been docked one of its stars, but it still stood for qualities and standards unmatched by any other restaurant. No other eating establishment I can think of was regarded with such affection, gave so much pleasure to successive generations.
And then came Covid. Like all restaurants, Le Gavroche closed down and when it came to re-opening, found the world greatly altered. The old ways were gone, and no one seemed – seems – to know what the new ways are. Brexit and Covid made it difficult to find and much more expensive to hire staff. The cost of ingredients rocketed. People had been shaken by the pandemic and were looking for something different even if they didn’t know what. Michel Roux made the decision to dispense with the fabulous value Prix Fixe lunch, indeed with lunchtime service altogether. It was impractical to hire and keep enough staff to cover the number of shifts now required. The faithful still gathered in the evening to enjoy an experience increasingly rare in London, but in truth, the days of Le Gavroche and what it represented so nobly for so many years, were gone. Michel made the decision to close.
But not before James,Johnny, Tom, Elizabeth and I had one last great feast. Now we are stooped, slightly deaf with no cheek bones but many chins. Our appetites have shrunk, too. We can no longer manage the twelve or so courses of yore. We’re down to eight now.
The menu for this last, great Fort Family Offal Feast was: Canapés ( Taramalata, Boudin Noir, Pigeon Skewers; Cou de Canard Farci, Ailerons, Foie et Langue, Salade aigre-Doug et Pruneaux;Tête Cabaillaud, Kombucha et ‘Dashi’; Ragoût de Tripes, Poi’s Chichés et Paprika; Charretuse d’Agneau; Tête Veau, Cervelle Frite et Sauce Ravigote; Cropwell Bishop Stilton; Mousse et Compote de Banane et Rhum. We drank champagne Lenoble ‘Selection Albert Roux’; Picpoul de Pinet, Moulin de Gassac 2017; Ginjo Saké – Oka, Dewazakra – Yamagata; Morgan ‘Côte de Py, Artaud Aucoeur 2020; B de Biac, Cadillac Côte de Bordeaux 2016; Graham’s Tawny Port -20 Years Old; Allela ‘Dolce Mataro’, Alta Alella Tiana 2020.
But, as we discover one more time, our pleasure in the food, the service, the occasion, the place and each other are undiminished. Vive Le Gavroche, even if it’s only in the memory.
ENDS
Fort on Food 