Growing bold gracefully

This review was first published in March 1999

How great is the divide between proficiency and excellence? And how long does it take to leap from one to the other? Was Casanova a great lover during his first sexual encounter or merely over-eager and ham-fisted like the rest of us? Mozart was a child prodigy but is it reasonable to compare his pre-pubescent skills with the genius of The Marriage of Figaro, Don Giovanni and The Magic Flute? Even William Hague's address to the Tory party conference when a precocious teenage twerp cannot be compared to his latterday orations. Well, OK, there are exceptions to every rule.

Before a visit to PUTNEY BRIDGE last week I was perplexed. This 140-seat, riverside restaurant, with a large bar downstairs, opened two years ago to a fanfare of praise for its architecture and design, and a barrage of criticism for its food and service. Would this visit again be a case of love the place, hate the food?

The view - rippling shafts of reflected sodium light glazing the Thames, enraged drivers crawling over Putney Bridge, cursing the closure of the Hammersmith crossing (go by Tube, it's easier) - lifted the spirits. Voguish surroundings - uncluttered walls, polished wood floors (beware, it is slippery to leather-soled shoes) and items of art by Léger, Frink and Picasso - add to a sense of occasion. But could a new chef and management team deliver the needed culinary volte-face?

A tip-off at a recent wine tasting from the sommelier at Chez Bruce in Wandsworth (where chef Bruce Poole has just been awarded a much-deserved Michelin star) brought about this trip to Putney Bridge. "I've eaten there a lot recently," he said. "You will be surprised, the food is very good." High praise from someone who should know.

New chef is Anthony Demetre. He arrived with an arm-long CV. Relatively short stints at Harvey's, L'Ortolan, La Tante Claire, Lucknam Park, The Castle Hotel, Taunton, The Greenhouse, The Four Seasons Restaurant and RSJ on the South Bank could easily prompt a censorious view. "Always be careful of employing anyone who's had too many jobs," was my father's advice. My notes, kept from a meal at RSJ when Demetre was there, read: "Inventive but unaccomplished. Sauces lack flavour and finesse. Lamb overcooked."

However, a three-year-plus stint as head chef at L'Odeon and now his transfer to Putney Bridge have, in footballing terms, lifted him from aspiring Conference player to nearing Premiership status. Raw talent alone, it appears, is seldom enough. Experience and hard graft make a difference.

The dinner menu - not cheap at £37.50 for three courses, excluding service - has much to entice, with some clever twists on classical preparations. A starter of pithivier of snails with two sauces, soubise and bourguignonne retained a lightness to the puff-pastry tart that moist snails could readily destroy. This was well matched by the wine-and-butter-rich reduction of the sauce bourguignonne (served separately). The soubise - béchamel infused with onion purée - although perfectly good, was a less vibrant pairing and confused the dish. For my taste, it could be dispensed with.

Lightly spiced red mullet soup with fresh spaghetti and coriander proved vigorous, the spice enhancing the fish flavour. Adding a simple pasta is neat. My companion's only criticism: "It could be a few degrees hotter."

A main dish of roast Scottish lobster with sweet spices was declared "unusually good" and "beautifully presented". It was certainly several notches above boiled or grilled, although an £8 supplement seemed hefty.

Like many drivers, I instinctively swerve to avoid bunnies lolloping across a country lane at dawn or dusk. But killing is one thing; cooking and putting on a plate another. It's difficult to resist that moist, soft-textured meat when it's decently prepared. Demetre's assiette of rabbit with a purée of carrots, jus spiked with Chardonnay vinegar, was a vast improvement on many previously confronted attempts. The meat, shot through with anise, was cooked and served with precision, the jus a fine counterpoint.

A pudding of lemon feuillétines and rhubarb scented with orange flower water again showed a deft hand with pastry. The lemon filling had the requisite zest and potency but the rhubarb, given its near infancy, surprisingly lacked sweetness. For those prepared to abandon the calorie chart, warm Valrhona chocolate moelleux and almond milk sorbet is a humdinger not to be missed.