Lost in translation in the City

A link between Whits and Throgmortons is the name Charles Fontaine. One Charles Fontaine apparently owned the site of Whits when it was called La Toque Blanche, although I believe it belonged originally to a M. Rosignoli.

Another Charles Fontaine, whom I know from his stint at Le Caprice and his ownership of The Quality Chop House, is currently revamping this extraordinary site next to Draper's Hall in the City. As a Frenchman he is absolutely determined to serve only British food.

Throgmortons was originally opened in 1900 by J Lyons & Co, the catering company which introduced Corner Houses staffed by Nippies. A modest façade reveals a winding staircase wrapped in luxurious gilt mosaic which penetrates floor after floor, going right down to the deepest cellars in the City, storing the coolest beer.

The long restaurant one floor down, next to a bar, retains its oak panelling and leather-upholstered Pullman booths. The new decor has contributed massive Egyptian grape-glass chandeliers, a bright red carpet and cerise ceiling. In scope it rivals big Parisian brasseries.

A reminder of bustling City life is footsteps crossing the glass bricks that are part of the pavement lights. As my sister and I were the only customers at lunch, they were welcome.

The menu features carvery, fish, grills with chips, and pies with mash. Jellied eel and whitebait are among the first courses but we started with chopped liver and toast and dressed crab.

Chopped liver was not the chicken livers lightened with egg that the phrase suggests but a way of using the English language to describe a rather coarse and bitter paté. A few flakes of white crab meat topped a mixture where commercial mayonnaise had the last say in the flavour.

The poached egg which accompanied grilled kipper had been poached in the kipper water, giving it a grim look and a worse taste. Roast pork with apple sauce, red cabbage and mash was a huge plateful reminiscent of greasy-spoon catering.

The veg of the day, runner beans, was cut in huge chunks. It is the English custom to slice them thinly. Eton Mess for pudding had been misunderstood in that the mix of meringue, strawberries and cream was muddled by a strawberry sauce.

There is, however, an impressive list of British cheeses supplied by Neal's Yard and the bread is excellent; both are available in the attractive deli on the ground floor, where hot pies of steak and kidney, chicken and leek, seafood and whiting, and spinach and cheddar are served.