Elystan Street, Chelsea. London.

How good is this food……I mean good, really good.

I had eaten Phil Howard’s food previously at the much lauded Square, coming away with the impression that it was pretty damn good in a refined, well crafted and impeccably served kind of way. But, as the dust settles on the sideboard of my mind, and I think about the two different styles of restaurants, the fine French of the Square and the relaxed bistro, Elystan Street. It’s the flavours that you remember long afterwards, the ones that stick in your mind, then Elystan street might just take it out by a nose.

Elystan street, is approachable, confident and incredibly well thought out. The food is cooked with sheer skill and delivered into an understated dining room by highly skilled and friendly floor staff. It’s as simple as that. The Italians call this sprezzatura, the art of making the difficult seem easy, and there is a relaxed easiness to this restaurant that is inviting and comfortable.

Helen and I had caught the tube on a grey London morning, which, as it does in Autumn, threatened to fine up all day but alas didn’t. Lunch at 1pm with my agent Kirsty, feeling still more sated than I’d hoped from a wonderful meal at Roganic the previous evening, was planning on a quick escape. After a short walk from South Kensington tube, with little to no fuss we were ushered to the table.

Good bread, water and attentive service followed. The menu delivered, comprised of dishes that just wanted to be ordered. This is the casual slash formal slash casual restaurant that everyone should have just down the street. It is Chelsea distilled as an essence, smart confident dining room and menu , elegant couture ladies, men in suits and Uber matrons sit amongst smart interesting etches and, and on this day, scruffy loitering Australian chefs.

It was hard to choose, the menu read, well. Too well. I settled on the hand cut strozzapretti with guinea fowl bolognese, white wine, parmesan and bay, sans the freshly shaved white truffles. Followed by the Cornish hake with curry oil. Helen, the salt baked white beetroot with walnut pesto, caraway, truffled ewes curd and pickled pear, followed by the chicken. Wine by the glass was a Knewitz Riesling 2018, delicious.

The pasta was rich handmade and utterly more-ish, and although, it would have been truly wonderful it hardly needed the white truffle. The salt baked white beetroot was similar, as demonstrated by the fact that too pry a mouthful from my wife was as difficult a job as I had recently experienced.

I must admit I did only manage a mouthful of the Roulade of free-range chicken with creamed potato, roasting juices, crayfish tails, girolles and sweetcorn, ditto above. A dish as delicious as its descriptor.

But for me this was all about the Fillet of Cornish Hake with curry oil, lime zest, and a ragout of leeks, mussels, celery heart and coriander. What a treat, with its lightly bronzed skin, it lounged in a deep bowl of the most deeply flavoured sauce/broth I can remember, all curry oil and coriander, mussels and, well, flavour…..so much flavour, almost too much flavour if that’s a thing. Anyway, enough of the chef wank, it was good.

After mains we lingered, chatting to Kirsty as she appeared from the private dining room, and Phil Howard who was dining with a friend in the restaurant today. Chatting about the food, the pasta, truffles, the Hake and kite surfing in Kenya. Desserts were ordered and arrived, crème caramel and the lemon tart. Perfect, well-crafted with a touch so light, and flavours so deep. Real class.

Elystan Street is the food that you could eat everyday with the service to make you want to. There is a real class here in the kitchen techniques, the conceptualisation of the menu, the sourcing of the produce and the delivery of that to the table. And any restaurant that offers Hasselback potatoes must be a good thing.