The Living Room
Has Itchy finally been charmed by a chain?
Review
Think 'chain', and you may conjure up confused memories of identical meals eaten in restaurants that now blur into one. In our experience, linked establishments can often offer great food but a carbon-copied feel, complete with black-shirted staff with trendy haircuts and accents that suggest they're not sure which branch they're in, either. Not so (except for that last one, maybe) with The Living Room. Somehow, this super-chain's twinkly chandeliers, grand piano, dark wood and wall-to-wall wine cabinet, complete with library-style push ladder (if this were your living room then we would like to know how you made your cash) instil a very strong urge to curl up next to the nearest log fire and rip open a Christmas present.
Such an interior might suggest that the menu would be bursting with dressed-up, Kleenex-wielding comfort foods but, though steak and ale pies and burgers are offered, they make up only a small part of an eclectic range. We started off with a goat's cheese and red pepper ravioli and quarter Peking duck (before you ask, it's not that eclectic – there were two of us eating), and the pasta was all you can hope for when not within the Italian borders - fresh, thick, and with a little bit of bite, yet not as filling as ravioli usually threatens to be. If you broke it down into individual bits, the duck also delivered - crispy, fatty shreds were accompanied by a rich hoi sin sauce, cucumber, spring onions and pancakes. Unfortunately though, the proportions were a bit out, leaving us scrimping on the sauce to have something to dip into the never-diminishing cucumber mound.
Having overcome this mountain, we moved on to a succulently roasted Cumbrian chicken with pan-fried mint gnocchi and creamed garden peas, and an enticing crab and baby spinach linguini in a clam and roasted bell pepper mariniere, all washed down with a fabulously fruity Ginestet Sauvignon Blanc. Again, the pasta was fresh and the rich, if slightly clotted, mariniere instantly transported me to the French riviera. Presentation did let the chef down a little here – the peppers were fairly hefty, and there was no baby spinach that I could see.
It's a well-known fact that puddings are stored in different stomachs from savoury foods, so, as full as we were, we pressed on with Belgian waffles and chocolate fudge cake (all in the name of a thorough review, of course). You can't really go wrong with things that contain cocoa, but the chocolate fudge cake, which felt almost vintage in the wake of the current wave of fashionable chocolate fondants sweeping the nation, really was exceptional, and the crisp yet chewy waffles, complete with vanilla ice cream and maple syrup, left us fighting over who had picked the best pud.
As for the service – okay, so they knew we were doing a review, but the beauty of having other tables close by is that you can tell how the other, non-note-taking diners are getting on as well. We were pleased to see that we weren't the only ones being treated like royalty – despite it being a quiet Sunday night, a multitude of friendly waiters were falling over themselves to offer menu suggestions and polite chit-chat (there was one moment when an offer of green beans was accompanied by a 'jazz hands' wave, but we'll let that pass). In terms of wallet damage, you're looking at an average of £20-£25 per head, not including the obligatory vino (which, at £17 for the second cheapest bottle, could break the bank). But, for a special treat, you'll be putting your money in safe hands with this charming, dare I say it, chain.
www.thelivingroom.co.uk
Such an interior might suggest that the menu would be bursting with dressed-up, Kleenex-wielding comfort foods but, though steak and ale pies and burgers are offered, they make up only a small part of an eclectic range. We started off with a goat's cheese and red pepper ravioli and quarter Peking duck (before you ask, it's not that eclectic – there were two of us eating), and the pasta was all you can hope for when not within the Italian borders - fresh, thick, and with a little bit of bite, yet not as filling as ravioli usually threatens to be. If you broke it down into individual bits, the duck also delivered - crispy, fatty shreds were accompanied by a rich hoi sin sauce, cucumber, spring onions and pancakes. Unfortunately though, the proportions were a bit out, leaving us scrimping on the sauce to have something to dip into the never-diminishing cucumber mound.
Having overcome this mountain, we moved on to a succulently roasted Cumbrian chicken with pan-fried mint gnocchi and creamed garden peas, and an enticing crab and baby spinach linguini in a clam and roasted bell pepper mariniere, all washed down with a fabulously fruity Ginestet Sauvignon Blanc. Again, the pasta was fresh and the rich, if slightly clotted, mariniere instantly transported me to the French riviera. Presentation did let the chef down a little here – the peppers were fairly hefty, and there was no baby spinach that I could see.
It's a well-known fact that puddings are stored in different stomachs from savoury foods, so, as full as we were, we pressed on with Belgian waffles and chocolate fudge cake (all in the name of a thorough review, of course). You can't really go wrong with things that contain cocoa, but the chocolate fudge cake, which felt almost vintage in the wake of the current wave of fashionable chocolate fondants sweeping the nation, really was exceptional, and the crisp yet chewy waffles, complete with vanilla ice cream and maple syrup, left us fighting over who had picked the best pud.
As for the service – okay, so they knew we were doing a review, but the beauty of having other tables close by is that you can tell how the other, non-note-taking diners are getting on as well. We were pleased to see that we weren't the only ones being treated like royalty – despite it being a quiet Sunday night, a multitude of friendly waiters were falling over themselves to offer menu suggestions and polite chit-chat (there was one moment when an offer of green beans was accompanied by a 'jazz hands' wave, but we'll let that pass). In terms of wallet damage, you're looking at an average of £20-£25 per head, not including the obligatory vino (which, at £17 for the second cheapest bottle, could break the bank). But, for a special treat, you'll be putting your money in safe hands with this charming, dare I say it, chain.
www.thelivingroom.co.uk
