The Crescent

This review was first published in November 2000

In order to reassure myself that wine bars can sell and profit from a wide range of wines which aren't merely unusual but also happen to be well-made, I made for The Crescent. This wine bar, owned and run by Hilary Gibbs of burgundy importer Domaine Direct in conjunction with energetic buyer, writer and broadcaster Matthew Jukes, has been open almost five years now.

Impressively, it still offers a superb range of 150 or so wines, every one annotated and described on the list, plus another 30 or so on the bin-end list and up to 25 by the glass. There's a short food menu which is available all day; they even serve eggs Benedict and croissants for a late breakfast (with coffee and chocolate if a bottle of Barolo before noon seems a bad idea).

When it first opened, it felt somewhat stark and austere; time, candlelight and quiet jazz have mellowed it. It's the only one of London's wine bars which, with its long hours, intelligent service, newspapers and neighbourliness, feels just a little like New York. The fact that it's attentively run by Canadian Norman Ellard with help from Australian Andrew Makeham adds to the international appeal.

What could I challenge them with? I know: Pinot Grigio. This grape variety is widely grown all over northern Italy, generally to produce rather a thin, raw white well adrift of the plump smoky succulence the best Alsace growers can give it.

Relief: the 1999 Borgo dei Vassalli version (at £4.25 per 175ml glass or £16.50 a bottle) showed up with drifting smoke across its bows, and plenty of chewy substance to its greengage fruit. The 1997 Rosso Conero Vigneto San Lorenzo from Umani Ronchi (£4.50 a glass; £17.50 a bottle) was just the kind of wine any serious Italian wine bar should think about stocking: scents of red flowers and dark spices, with lots of moist, sticky liquorice fleshing out its soft, ripe plum.

A bottle of the 1995 Marqués de Vargas Rioja Reserva cost more (at £32.50) than another of 1997 Mercurey Rouge from Juillot (£29.95) - but it was worth more, too: sweet velvet as opposed to crunchy redcurrants. Both defined exactly what their regions can do, and I appreciated the thin and shapely glasses which helped the wines express themselves.

After a dry and doughy pizza at Vino Bar (£6.45), I no longer had space for the Crescent's pheasant-and-vegetable pie (£8.75) or rare roast beef, tomato and lettuce ciabatta sandwich with French fries (£5.75). I could, though, have carried on drinking all evening - were it not for the disincentives provided for us all by a train service on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

The Crescent
99 Fulham Road, SW3 6RH