After having been guided to our seats (despite having arrived twenty minutes early), one of our many charming waiters explained to us how head chef Agnar Sverrisson would treat us to his representation of Icelandic cuisine. Never having been to Iceland I can't vouch for the authenticity of our experience. I can comment on the taste and quality though, and both were absolutely top class.
A bowl of assorted crackers and a mild blue cheese dip, and some crusty bread accompanied by intense olive oil and Icelandic lava salt set things up nicely before the meal proper began. Our appetiser was artichoke soup, and fine soup it was too, given crunch with the inclusion of hazelnuts and depth with a hint of truffle.
On paper I wasn't expecting much from the beetroot, walnuts and Gorgonzola snow which followed, but on the plate it was an absolute revelation. Three hefty chunks of earthy beetroot joined crunchy walnuts and the creamy snow to create a wonderful mix of tastes, temperatures and textures. The portion size was pretty respectable too, and I find myself considering if this was why Iceland seems to have a proliferation of strongmen, eating helpings like this. A selection of herbs rounded the dish off beautifully.
Anjou pigeon, pink and succulent, was next. Slivers of pickled calcot onion provided welcome sourness and textures of corn (including salty bacon popcorn and lovely sweetcorn) added smacks of salty-sweetness to another excellent dish.
The strong aroma of smoked eel ushered in the next course, though the fish itself was surprisingly mild in flavour. The bonito broth in which it sat was also pleasingly subtle, as was the crispy quinoa, while slices of pickled turnips gave the course a wonderful zing. As Nottingham people would say it 'made your tabs laugh.' (Look that up, readers from anywhere else in the country).
A departure from the advertised Icelandic lamb made up the meat course, though I'm not sure the lamb could've matched this absolute triumph. Deep, beefy ox cheek, rib eye so spongy and soft I could've lain upon it and got a fantastic night's sleep, crunchy chips that were more like sculpted roast potatoes, a fruity Port sauce, a smear of horseradish and an olive oil zabaglione. Imagine the very best bits of the very best roast dinner and you'd be getting close.
Blood orange granita and basil (I think) sorbet freshened things up nicely before a really interesting finish to the tasting menu. White chocolate mousse, not too sweet, joined chunks of cucumber and sprigs of dill to make up a dessert which was light enough to end the proceedings on a real high. We skipped the optional cheese and had coffee instead, which was served with some of the best petit fours we've ever had. The warm, crunchy pistachio Madeliene was particularly enjoyable.
Service was excellent throughout and the almost-salty Chardonnay the sommelier suggested was great, and within the price-range we'd asked for. The dining room was large and grand but the atmosphere was relaxed and easy-going, unlike other London restaurants we've visited before. There really wasn't a duff note all night.
Texture certainly lives up to its name as each course had it in abundance. But texture is nothing without taste, and this meal certainly had that too. If this is what Icelandic cuisine can offer then a visit to the land of the midnight sun may well be in order. If not, then a return to Texture will do very nicely instead.