Definitely getting there
The glamour associated with Cliveden was in evidence in the atmospheric dining room, although our first impression was that the staff were not fully ready for us at opening time, and we had to request an aperitif since nobody thought to ask if we wanted one. Our doubts were dispelled pretty quickly by our attentive and genuinely interested waiter and by the classy canapés, light and tasty gougères and a chorizo, parmesan and red pepper mousse which we spread happily on some seed crisps. The amazing amuse-bouche produced layer upon layer of flavour with confit egg yolk sitting under mushroom purée which in turn was covered with potato foam and topped with garlic and tomato crunch. Tastebuds continued to be stimulated with chef's very pretty take on crab salad, the white meat shredded, the brown meat in the form of a sensational mousse, and the salad elements of avocado, kohlrabi, chickweed and pepper backed with a quinoa crisp and a delicate lemon purée to produce a splendid combination of tastes and textures. The next dish of salt-cured foie gras incorporating long pepper to great effect and using plum and sake as a fruity contrast was elevated to real heights by the truly memorable roast duck jelly, which had us enthusing even further about the quality of the cooking. However, we were slightly puzzled by the fish course. For us turbot as the main ingredient should be just that, and while the roast fillet Grenobloise was fine, it was rather a pity that it was overshadowed by the other elements on the plate comprising cockles tasting quite strongly of the sea, a hint of chicken jus, celery, chicory salt and melted butter. This was followed by good grilled mutton cutlet which was tender enough to have been lamb, excellent "bolognese" made from the shoulder and wrapped in sweet white onion, smoked aubergine purée, which was unfortunately overpowering for our tastes, and a curious and not very welcome touch of orange. The "Waldorf salad" was basically a rather strange cheese course based on a Fourme (it was not clear which one) imported to Oxfordshire and injected there with Maury (doux or rancio?) and put together with a few leaves, slices of apple and some grape gel, but little in the way of the obligatory walnuts, and it seemed to owe little to the talent of the chef. There was a decent enough strawberry pre-dessert, and then a chocoholic's dream of a dessert mounting a ganache shard, crumble and aero against delicious mint ice cream. The petits fours added to the sweet delight, in particular a wonderful coconut bomb. This began in a very promising way and it was a pity that the quality did not continue throughout the menu.