Review: Idiot-proof instructions for fine dining at home

I’ve been told that my biggest fault (I know, right? Me neither) is that I’m indecisive. Although I’m not so sure. Years ago, Mr Turner picked me up from work and asked me where I wanted to go to eat. I said that I didn’t know, didn’t mind, wasn’t sure and he kept driving round the city for about 30 minutes until I screamed out the name of the first place I could think of just to get him to stop. Unfortunately for him, Isa’s Chat’N’Chew was still serving.

Cafe St Honore

We both learned a lesson from that – mine was to have better thoughts in my head and his was not to press me on the decision-making. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll happily and volubly disagree with another’s decision, I just can’t make them myself.

Which is why, and I am sorry about this, there are parts of lockdown that I have been enjoying. A life lived with an excess of options can be exhausting. So while having choices taken away from you isn’t exactly how I would have wanted that problem resolved, it has been quite cathartic knowing that I can’t dither over a location to eat in or swither over a menu once I’m seated.

Taking what you’re given may well have been how most of us were brought up. However, that becomes more than welcome when what you’re given is the set menu from Cafe St Honore’s At Home project, focusing on seasonal and locally available produce.

The menu can be ordered on a Monday (between 12-3pm) and you can make 
any specific dietary requests then, which the team will do their best to accommodate. The meals are for collection at their Thistle Street premises on Thursday, Friday or Saturday afternoons and all are designed so that you could keep them in the fridge for a couple of days.

We began with freshly baked bread accompanied by whipped black pepper crowdie. This featured the smallest boulle I think I’ve ever seen, but for all that well crafted with a lovely texture. The crowdie was extremely creamy, without any sharp high notes and the merest hint of pepper.

It set us up perfectly for the Belhaven smoked trout with a horseradish potato salad which came with a light salad of fennel and organic leaves. Salmon, so they say, is the king of fish. My taste has always been for the more delicate sea trout or as often mis-described salmon trout. Trout is an altogether more sophisticated fish. This was as good as it gets. Thick cut for trout, melt in the mouth, not overly smoked by artisan producers. And my, the generous portion. Fennel was a nice touch; the gentle anise worked well in the salad as a confident anchor, without overwhelming.

Our main dish was confit Kype Muir duck leg with braised puy lentils and Peelham Farm organic salami.

This required a bit of cooking; well, it mainly required switching the oven on and slamming it in. The results had Mr Turner claiming his first star.

The UK’s introduction to proper home cuisine in the Seventies was pretty much based on French country cooking. This dish epitomised why. The duck legs were perfectly prepared, plump and deftly seasoned. Idiot-proof instructions produced a superb dish. Equally as impressive were the lentils; the genius here was replacing bacon lardons with salami, which combined with a mira poire and rich stock, rounded off a simply brilliant dish. We ate in silence and when I looked over to Mr Turner, I swear he was having a Proust-style ‘Madeleine’ moment.

The side dish was hispi cabbage with Arran mustard butter and tarragon. The cabbage provided a gentle, nutty undertone, but unfortunately didn’t add greatly to the overall experience, by getting a little lost surrounded by such greatness.

Our dessert was an organic lemon posset with juicy local raspberries and shortbread. What often is considered the money shot in any meal, this pretty little dish certainly didn’t disappoint the eye. It again demonstrated a deft hand with an excellent balance. The only pity was that it just couldn’t compete with the sheer quality of the meal that had preceded it.

The cheese course was a perfect wedge of Isle of mull cheese with chutney and handmade oatcakes. Simple, quality and a perfect adjunct to the quality coffee provided.

Whilst again we had to make this ourselves, I swear it was better than the coffee served in at least 90 per cent of establishments we visit.

The options may be limited, but when they are as excellent as this new at-home offering from Neil Forbes’ team at Cafe St Honore, then you can take away every choice I ever had.