A bittersweet chocolate tart served with stout ice cream was almost too intense, though its recipient maintained that it's impossible for something to be too chocolatey - "It's like being too good at sex."As I dutifully reported back in 1997, "Pied ?erre prides itself on being the cheapest two-star restaurant in London." I'm not sure if that's still true, but the prices seem reasonable for such quality - the ?a carte dinner menu offers starter and main course for £48 (pudding is £10.50 extra). A simple tranche of pan-fried wild sea bass was wonderfully accessorised with creamed shallot, roasted salsify and silky creamed ceps.Desserts are elaborate, but in the case of my prune and almond frangipani with tea-infused prunes and ginger ice cream, pleasantly unsweet. His main course was a case in point - a world-beating lamb dish that saw the meat presented both as tender cylinders of roasted best end, and as a "sandwich" of shredded shank, pressed between bread and pan-fried. Canap?looked as pretty as petit-fours, and included a slender goujon of fish, battered and vinegared, with a tuile of potato, jokily introduced as "fish and chips".All jokiness stops when the food proper arrives; what follows is a masterclass in treating serious ingredients with imagination and respect. A fabulously light and foamy nugget of caramelised veal sweetbread, topped with unadvertised slices of black truffle, was partnered with a delicate strip of veal tongue and wafer-thin discs of honey-braised turnip. Curry-poached Falmouth oysters had the rare distinction of improving on the raw ingredient, and came with light-as-air potato blinis and pur? cauliflower.Despite the number of ingredients on each plate, and the appearance of various foams and pur?, this is deeply satisfying food. Even my normally prosaic Scottish companion found himself moved to use words such as "divine" and "exquisite".
Despite its serious foodie reputation, the place doesn't seem to take itself too seriously; the staff are young and unintimidating, and there's a soundtrack of new age chill-out music playing slightly too loudly.Our supper got off to a shaky start when the wine waiter responded to Harry's request for a glass of champagne with various heavily accented suggestions, none of which sounded familiar. Eventually the poor chap hissed, "Do you want expensive or cheap?" leaving Harry no option but to sigh, "cheap," then sit fuming about being humiliated. Not the intention, I'm sure; Pied ?erre is renowned for its wine list, and the staff obviously expect customers to know their Ruinart from their Roederer.The rest of our meal, though, was a complete delight, the attention to detail exemplified by the monogrammed pats of butter - salted or unsalted - that accompanied the gorgeous selection of breads. Osborn's food might be less experimental and showy than that of the fiery Aikens, but in its own way, it's equally dazzling, and the enforced hiatus has given him a chance to recharge his batteries.Pied ?erre was never a restaurant you went to for the atmosphere - the narrow, windowless dining room somehow contrived to feel like a basement despite being on the ground floor. It's still, um, intimate, but curvy banquettes and some artfully placed mirror-work have given the room a bit more atmosphere, and it feels sexier and more feminine than before.
Nevertheless, my debut went well enough for The Independent to offer me a regular gig, and I've been hanging on to it with grim determination ever since.Tom Aikens moved on a few years later, but under his successor, Australian Shane Osborn, Pied ?erre hung on to its two stars, and its reputation as one of London's finest restaurants. I've always had benevolent feelings towards Pied ?erre, since it was responsible for my own little version of a phoenix-like renewal. Back in 1997 our sister paper The Independent on Sunday gave me the chance to fill in for their restaurant critic, Helen Fielding (whatever happened to her, by the way? Such a promising talent ...). My assignment was to review Pied ?erre, whose then chef, Tom Aikens, had just been awarded his second Michelin star at some terrifyingly young age. Aikens's cooking was finely worked and sophisticated; so much so that I had some difficulty figuring out what the hell was going on. Lifejacket, helmet, harness and kites are provided - just bring a swimsuit. Where: Kailua Sailboards and Kayaks, 130 Kailua Road, Kailua, Oahu Hawaii 96734 USA (Tel: 00 1 808 262 2555; www.kailuasailboards ).