Off to Notting Hill to the secret, exclusive dining room, pub and hidden speakeasy that isthe Fat Badger. When it opened earlier this year, the place was invite-only, but has since relaxed its door policy to allow anyone who fancies the first-floor bar for ale, martinis and toasties or the set menu by a former River Cafe chef on the top floor. Nothing is more likely to rankle decent, upstanding Guardian readers than the notion that the Fat Badger was once invite-only, and in Notting Hill, land of the frittered trust fund, too! “Eat the rich!” said Jean-Jacques Rousseau, apparently. Well, he’d have to find them first, because they don’t make that easy here. This badger is tucked away above the much-laudedCanteenon Portobello Road, and access is down a side street via what seems more like the goods entrance.
Head up two sets of stairs, and the Fat Badger’s pub and dining room are elegant, olde-worlde, wood-panelled and candle-lit. It’s all completely charming, of course, but crucially – and this is by no means a dig – and, despite the acres of hype becauseMargot RobbieandJamie Dornanhave been spotted here, it’s also nothing remotely groundbreaking. In recent years, a new breed of London pubs such asthe Heroin Maida Vale,the Devonshirein Piccadilly,the Knave of Clubsin Shoreditch and now the Fat Badger have been selling gen Y the concept of “going to the pub” as if it were a deliciously edgy, new thing. People mill around, drink booze and talk! In real life! When the place opened, there was even talk that, gasp, they were selling single cigarettes behind the bar, to take to the smoking area. All the glorious grot that was once so commonplace is being rebranded as the epitome of decadence. That said, by the time I got round to visiting last week, those single ciggies were no longer available, no doubt because some miserable snitch had said it might be illegal.
The food in the upstairs dining room, meanwhile, is really very good, which you’d maybe expect with the likes of George Williams (ex-River Cafe) and Beth O’Brien (Ballymaloe Cookery Schoolgraduate) at the helm. That comes with one caveat, though: this is a no-choice menu. That’s not to say it’s a fancy, itsy-bitsy tasting menu; instead, this is a hearty, meat and two veg with doughnuts for pudding-type set menu. Even so, there’s no real warning of what’s on offer – it’s a secret, again – and it’ll cost you £85 a head.
We were asked what we liked and didn’t like, and if we had any allergies. That was followed by a steady stream of, on the whole, delicious things that would delight even the most uppity eater. A soupçon of nettle soup, as thick as a puree, with fresh Irish soda bread and glorious salted butter. Then some gorgeous lobster in a light tempura served in a “taco” made of thinly sliced celeriac.
Salty trout belly on charred toast was intriguing rather than yummy, but a chunk of grilled pigeon on toast was earthy and rich. More trout appeared, this time chopped with olives into a fresh paté to smear across that salty bread. If the Fat Badger has gained an early reputation as something of a party palace for the Notting Hill set, that sells the cooking here very short.
Next up on the mystery menu was a generous portion of scallop in a lobster gravy studded with fresh peas and pork jowl. The scallop was seared yet still yieldingly soft and the peas tasted as if they’d only just left their pods. Produce here clearly comes first.
Anyone worrying that a secret menu of this kind might throw up a few curveballs would breathe a sigh of relief to see that fillet of beef with hasselback potatoes is the main event, with large chunks of rare beef, strewn with at least a dozen fat morels, a whole heap of potatoes and a steaming pan of warm bearnaise sauce. The clientele that night was almost 85% huddles of posh, thin, joyless women discussing society wedding calendars, but then it was a Tuesday evening in May in west London, so what else would you expect?
Dessert was a huge portion of strawberry and basil sorbet, which challenged my belief that basil in a sorbet is nothing but an annoyance: it really worked here and was promptly inhaled. A freshly made sticky doughnut with apple sauce and a delightful spherical mass of apple crumble ice-cream rounded things off, with the crumble worked in flaky chunks through the rich vanilla ice-cream. The Fat Badger may have been sold to me as one of the naughtiest new places in London, but I think this wonderful, calories-be-damned ice-cream was easily the lewdest part of the entire evening.
The Fat Badger is immensely likeable, and they’ll now let you in even if you’re not famous (or friends with them). Lucky you!
The Fat Badger310 Portobello Road, London W10 (no phone). Open Tues-Sat, dinner only, 5-9.30pm (last orders); Sun lunch, noon-3.30pm. Dinner, four-course set menu only, £85 a head; Sun, three-course set menu only, £60, all plus drinks and service