The wine list at Chez Bruce

This review was first published in June 2001

Wine should be fun. Few statements, I know, could be more wretchedly obvious. Strange, then, that so many of those involved in serving wine appear to have had their fun gland removed under local anaesthetic shortly before you walk into their restaurant. The logic, I suppose, is that it's you who should be having fun, not them; theirs is a vocation of discretion, of invisibility, of gliding efficiency. Especially where stars and gastronomy are concerned. Well, maybe.

Anyway, I'm very glad to say that there is at least one Michelin-starred London restaurant where the sommelier, on every occasion I have visited, seems to be having a rollicking porpoise of an evening. Since Jason McAuliffe's own fun gland appears to have grown twice as large as most people's, I'm sure he won't mind me saying that there's just a touch of Frankie Howerd about his style. He rockets about the intimate Chez Bruce with noisy and slightly dangerous exuberance, like an tightly wound clockwork toy. He's old friends with at least half of the customers, and quickly on terms of ribbing intimacy with the new ones. He's very local ("St George's born and bred"), and can discuss wines with unforgettably earthy informality. Quite why the TV producers haven't discovered him yet, I don't know.

Are we always sure that sommeliers love wine? We are not. Jason, though, we can be sure about. He's been Chez Bruce since day one, when there were six whites and six reds. Now there are almost 400 wines, all Jason-assembled (so to speak), laid out in the list in strict price order, and thus in complete stylistic chaos. There are no descriptions, which is fine when Jason's there since he'll give you the glowing low-down in a trice, but it can be tricky when he isn't. Thirty-three wines by the glass, plus a choice of 19 desert wines by the glass, is a grand spread, so three of us stuck to this range for Bruce Poole's set three-course dinner (fine value at £27.50). We drank nine wines and there wasn't a dog among them.

They all had character, and very nearly as much as Jason. Wine of the evening for me was the brilliant Austrian 1998 Grüner Veltliner "Ried Grub" from Schloss Gobelsberg at £6.50 per glass, or £7.64 including service: it smelled lushly botrytised, leading the sniffer to expect, and be disappointed by, something inappropriately sweet. All its obviously extravagant natural sugar levels had been converted into a whopping 14.5 per cent alcohol, I'm happy to say; it quivered with ripe acidity; it was flush with minerals. It made a great accompaniment to two of Bruce Poole's characteristically atomised dishes: courageously sautéed salmon and scallops with asparagus, beurre blanc and chives, and rare-grilled tuna with a kind of deconstructed and renovated ni?oise salad, deposited about the plate like a collection of delicious objets trouvés.

When it came to reds, some of us lapped up the dark and iron-stiffened 1998 Cahors from Château du Cèdre (£5.63 including service) while others preferred the bigshouldered but softer 1998 Gigondas Le Grand Montmi-rail from Brusset (£6.47); both, in any case, had the edge on the over-oaky and rather acidic 1996 Henschke Keyneton Estate (£9.40). Assiette of rabbit was another bits-and-pieces dish, each bit heat-buffed and pan-cherished; a plate of succulent grilled calf's kidneys was brilliantly matched by a subtle soubise sauce and suntanned fondant chips.

The cleverness of making desserts non-negotiable is that Jason gets a chance to sell more glasses of (sweet) wine, so we went for two gratifying oddballs: the almost icewine-like 2000 "Noble Sauvage" from Isabel Estate in New Zealand (£9.40) and the barleysugar-andmarzipan 1998 Gaillac Doux Cuvée Renaissance from Domaine Rotier (£7.05).

Two diners envied the third's pud: the light yet luxurious glazed plum crème chiboust was star choice. It was only as we walked out, staggering slightly from Jason's final slap on the back and last finger-crushing handshake, that we realised we all had serious, even depressing matters to discuss. They could, of course, wait.

Wine list scores 4 out of 5.