“It will be rare,” she said, waiting for the order to be retracted. Apparently many had already been shocked at how red and bloody the wood pigeon was. But we were resolute - we had never eaten a British pigeon, and besides, we heard its population is in need of some serious control - so there seemed no better time than now to be firm. We had however secretly hoped that if pigeons were truly toxic, Tom Pemberton - the former head chef of the famous St John Bread and Wine - could nullify it, or at least make eating it hurt as little as possible.To prepare for the coming of the cardinal bird, we cleansed ourselves with a salad of grilled Jerusalem artichoke, dandelion and boiled egg, and doused in the Vin de Pays des Bouches du Rhone, Chateau de Roquefort 2005. The salad, well-salted and slightly tangy, warmed up our senses, even though it was served with a cold custard-centered boiled egg. The balance of hot and cold was a strange if invigorating combination. We managed to numb our nerves enough with the heady swirl of berries and mildly malicious bite of the deep red wine. The sadists in us asked for another glass… or perhaps it was the hopefuls - optimists who thought that the fierceness of the wine would counter the feathery toxins where the chef should fail. And just to be on the safe side, an order of roasted plaice was also on its way - maybe the saltwater will neutralize the poisons.

So there it was, resting on a bed of sprout tops and lentils, accompanied by a slice of toast spread liberally with pâté. Except for a couple of visible fuchsia-colored edges, the pigeon looked every part the domestic fowl we adopted onto our dinner tables. Our guards lowered, we gently sliced the breast meat, making sure the roast plaice was already prepped with lemon and cut into bite-sized pieces lest the fowl was foul.

As the knife serrated its way into the bird, scarlet juices began to seep out. The wary carving revealed more juice, and an even wine-colored flesh. I admit it was a bit disconcerting at first, to have red juice, and then red meat staring at you, but we had gotten this far not to be dubbed chicken. So in we dove; the meat was dense to the prod, tender yet chewy and succulent to the bite. The taste was comfortable - slightly gamey, a little bloody, but not overpowering, and very fresh. The rest of the dish worked around bird’s natural flavor: the sprout tops seemed to have been merely blanched, and the green lentils - unfortunately still a tad raw - was seasoned plainly, allowing the bird’s juices to form the base of the dish. With this much on the plate, the pate-covered toast seemed almost unnecessary, but it’s presence balanced the course by bringing in the contrasting velvety and crunchy textures. Within the first couple of bites, all thoughts pointing to the color and un-ascertainable levels of poison vanished.

So engrossed were we in this rosy meat that we neglected the roasted plaice. Accompanied by a perfectly-cooked side of naturally sweet and fibrous saffron courgettes, the plaice was moist and flaky on the inside, and crisp and golden on the outside. The dish was, again, seasoned very minimally to allow its natural flavors to be savored. While lemons usually overwhelm, an indulgent squeeze enhanced the freshness and simplicity of the dish. By the end of this, there was no question we were staying for the final course. But dessert was unusual at its best: the torte-like chocolate cake was served at room temperature with a side of clotted cream. Although it had a gentle sweetness and unexpected airy quality to it, it lacked the richness that usually comes with chocolate cakes and extreme temperatures (be it chilled or oven-hot), not to mention the indulgence that a scoop of vanilla ice cream might provide.

Despite the strange dessert and undercooked lentils, newly-opened Hereford Road (October 2007) is steps ahead of its peers, not just in its neighborhood but across central London. The combination of factors that make up this establishment work harmoniously: located just off Westbourne Grove, Hereford Road - the road itself, and therefore the restaurant - sits on the border of the residential and commercial areas of Notting Hill. In this cradle of a private but welcoming community sits the former Victorian butcher’s shop that serves modern British fare straightforward in its flavors and presentation. The menus are changed twice a day although the interior decor remains the same, projecting the altogether comfortable vibe with its chic and romantic area in the front, and the spacious natural and simple room in the back. Service here is casual and confident aided by staff who are knowledgeable and passionate about, and towards, their own food and establishment.

It is therefore easy to see why, in just eight weeks, Hereford Road already has a handful of regulars, plus two; because even though this newcomer has its hiccups, it has a sturdy foundation of elements that work well together. Most importantly, it has the potential to do better - and we definitely want to be there when that happens.

Hereford Road
3 Hereford Road
Westbourne Grove
London, W2 4AB, UK
Tel: 020 7727 1144
www.herefordroad.org

- Reviewed by Celine Asril (casril@gmail.com)

Self-professed gastronome (not the garden variety) Celine Asril is a freelance food writer and photographer based in London, UK. She started on this path three years ago in Vancouver, Canada, but it was undeniably the food instincts instilled in her during her growing years in Singapore that propelled her. When not procuring new palates or traveling, she documents her adventures on her food blog, Black.Salt.