What the critics say: Manson, Pipe & Glass Inn…

24th February 2010, 8:31am

A round-up of the latest reviews

Empress of Sichuan, London
Giles Coren, The Times, 20 February

"The menu introduces the chef with a photo of a very serious-looking, plumpish Sichuanese fellow in a vertiginous toque, and his very impressive CV. He is called Kang Dong. Whether or not he is related to the more famous King Dong – mythical star of certain Seventies movies – it doesn't say.

"The staff are friendly, knowledgeable and fluent in English, which makes everything easy. They giggle when asked if they are Sichuanese themselves and say, no, you can tell a Sichuanese person because they are so thin. On account of the spicy food they eat. Then they glance around, lean in and say, 'Except for chef!'"

Manson, London
Zoe Williams, The Telegraph, 19 February

"For pud we shared the Jerusalem artichoke cheesecake (£6). You have A to thank for this discovery; I thought it sounded weird and wanted ice cream (what am I, 12?).
'It was incredible from top to bottom: the crunchy biscuit base was profoundly delicious, as if Tuley had reinvented not just the cheesecake genre but also the digestive biscuit. The filling had a wonderful consistency (it was very smooth; I often find cheesecake claggy) and, a lemony side-taste notwithstanding, tasted very distinctly of artichoke, and yet utterly right and proper, as if this vegetable had always been a pudding, as if only an idiot would put it in a soup. Two blobs with the exact appearance of amaretti turned out to be a kind of soft peanut caramel. A scoop of peanut-butter ice cream completed this trio of delicious surprises. By the end I totally loved it in there. And, three days on, I have considered the gastropub prices for the quite superior cooking, and I love it yet more. So it can't just have been a sugar high."

Le Relais de Venise, London
Lisa Markwell, The Independent, 21 February

"The exterior of the French brasserie Le Relais de Venise has always looked bog-standard. The inside has dull-maroon banquettes and a ghastly explosion of peach flowers at its centre. And why would anyone queue in the dark and damp for bistro food? There must be at least a dozen places serving it within a mile."

"The salad plates are whisked away and we barely have time to sip the Château de Nardon Bordeaux 2002 (£22) before the main course arrives. Again, measly sized plates but the thinly sliced entrecôte steak and French fries are piled high. Other reviewers have grumbled about the provenance (or lack thereof) of the steak and the thinness of the "famous sauce" covering it, but standards must have improved since it was slated back in 2005. The steak (the beef is now supplied by the reliable Donald Russell operation) is tender and well-flavoured, and the chips crisp and thin. The buttery, salty sauce is a tad heavy on the herbs (basil seems to be prevalent) but it is piquant and seems authentic."

Hunter 486 at The Arch Hotel, London
Tracey MacLeod, The Independent, 20 February

"Like the décor, the menu hasn't quite made up its mind, balancing ambition with an eager-to-please pragmatism. British staples, such as fish pie and braised lamb shank, sit alongside fancier fare, including foie gras and guinea fowl terrine, and there's also a touch of the room service in the inclusion of burgers and pizzas."

"The rustic simplicity of a charcuterie board, served with a hunk of rosemary focaccia, was let down by underwhelming meats, and some rather nasty olives in a small jar. My companion Sharon described it regretfully as 'a bit M&S chilled cabinet'. Much better was a roast beetroot and goats' cheese tarte fine, crisp of pastry and full of big punchy tastes. Again, though, the conflict between rustic and fancy played out on a plate decorated with puréed beetroot, but topped with a rubble of crumbled oatcakes."

Assaha Village, London
Andrew Neather, Evening Standard, 18 February

"It aims to recreate a rural environment which has all but disappeared in Lebanon behind breeze-block buildings and pick-up trucks. The interior is faced entirely in honey-coloured stone, the walls and alcoves of the ground floor done up as market stalls, with strings of onions and garlic hanging from the ceiling and boxes of grapes and peppers.

"It's downstairs which is jaw-dropping, though: a huge space, honeycombed out into booths and alcoves containing one or two tables, all again in stone and purporting to be a village, signposted as different 'shops', 'Village Square' and the like. Antiques and artefacts from rifles to rakes adorn the walls. If it sounds corny, it's actually charming and meticulously done."

Pipe & Glass Inn, East Yorkshire
Jay Rayner, The Observer, 21 February

"It is just a pub, with a real public bar, and soup on the menu – a minced mutton and pearl barley broth with dumplings – at £3.95. There is an open fire. Music pumps, and out the back is a conservatory extension which, with its plush carpets and modern windows, is verging on the suburban. The food, while knowingly pubby in places – prawn cocktail, fish pie – can also be developed and intricate. For example, a tartar of salmon came with a tiny 'scotch egg' of smoked salmon, with a centre of quail's egg whose yolk still ran. Crisp rissoles of wild rabbit were partnered with cockles, capers and sorrel, and while on the menu it caused a raised eyebrow, on the plate it didn't. Queenie scallops, the size of my fingertips – I have big hands – came on the half shell with a cheese and herb crust, and on the side a pickled chicory salad. All of these could have done with a bolder hand on the seasoning – let a cockle speak as a cockle – but there was no doubting the quality of the cookery."

The Evesham Hotel, Worcestershire
Matthew Norman, The Guardian, 20 February

"My chicken breast with a sweet-and-sour pepper sauce ('All our sweet ¬customers go sour!' says the menu, and who would gainsay that?) looked terrible, but the sauce was subtle and spicy; and venison pie with chestnuts and thyme was a rich, winey, gamey ¬delight. Sirloin steak with stilton, however, was a disaster. You don't have to be the Galloping Gourmet, whose spirit hovers over the menu and room alongside Robert Carrier's, to predict what will happen when a medium-well-done piece of steak goes back under the grill to melt cheese on its top. Puddings, notably an elderflower panna cotta, ¬recaptured the form of the starters.

"We left disoriented and, above all, fretful (needlessly: he had left the building an hour earlier). This is the most disconcertingly odd restaurant you may ever visit, taunting expect¬ations at every turn and suffused with incongruities (conference room tables with metal legs, fancy Villeroy & Boch silver cutlery), and I haven't a clue whether to recommend it or warn you off. Perhaps the short-cut question to ask yourself is this: when you set eyes on a man in a wooden teddy bear tie, is your instinct to reach for a camera or a handgun?"

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