And there was an evening at Le Gavroche where I had more dairy than a human should consume in a calendar year and told Michel Roux, several glasses into (me, not him) that I loved him. It’s arguably the most consistent dining experience I’ve ever had. There were several visits to The Glasshouse in Kew where the kitchen consistently delivered something new and delicious every time.
I went to Per Se in New York (more than once) and enjoyed a stunning view of Central Park while eating a long tasting menu where no ingredient appeared more than once. I ate snail porridge, bacon and egg ice cream and drank a glass of tea that was hot on the left and cold on the right which both amazed and entranced me in equal measures. In that time I experienced the magnificent theatre of The Fat Duck where each course told a story that knitted together to form a whole. ‘Star fatigue’ had set in.ĭon’t get me wrong. But there came a point where I had the same revelation as Jay Rayner in The Man Who Ate The World (a must read for any foodie) that Michelin was a mark for those who lazily wanted to know that they would get haute cuisine on a long tasting menu without having to do much by way of research. I visited some because they were on my list of places to go and some frankly to tick a box, to collect a badge and know that I’d been there and done that. In my late 20s and early 30s, I went to lots of restaurants that held Michelin Stars.
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