Northbank (Bar, Restaurant)

Best for: Cocktails, hearty fine dining and riverside views.

Great: Scallops, soufflé and service.

So I’m feeling rebellious. I’m going to start at the end.

That’s not to say the beginning wasn’t inviting, or prickling with those tiny, sparky goosebumps of anticipation you should feel fizzing in your stomach when you pick up a good menu.

Or that the middle wasn’t comforting and satisfying; lulling you into the relaxed stupor that only comes when good wine and hearty fare jostle playfully for attention on a white table cloth.

But like the very best of books, films and scores, the end should always be the crescendo; the crowning glory in which the ends tie, the tails dove, and the ducks form their row with military precision (in this case, lazily paddling under the Millennium Bridge, framed in all its twinkle-light glory by the wide window opposite my table.)

And so it was when my soufflé arrived.

If I’d started at the beginning, you’d already know Northbank Restaurant and Bar, sitting proudly on the bank of the Thames at St Pauls, prides itself on a modern British menu with a Cornish influence. So then it wouldn’t surprise you this was a ‘cream tea’ soufflé.

With its clean lines and finesse, it was about as far as it could be from the crumbly, uneven homemade scones with dabs of strawberry jam and clotted cream I’ve eaten perched in my grandparents’ Devonshire farmhouse, while taking a lecture on whether the jam or the cream goes on first, from the most deeply Devonshire of ladies.

But nevertheless, despite its style, it still captured within its air bubbles something of the salty air and earthy soil of that South Western land.

The creature stood tall and monstrous in its ramekin, oozing with strawberries and accompanied by a dish of clotted cream and a jug of Earl Grey.

On arrival, our waiter brandished a knife and slashed it down the centre without apology or warning, pouring the tea inside. It was a tea ceremony of the most British kind. We even tried to remain stoic and stifle a gasp.

The soufflé shuddered. Accompanied by a delicious dessert wine, an Essensia Orange Muscat from California, it was a crowd pleaser that might even appease the judges on the Great British Menu TV show.

My friend’s chocolate fondant with peanut butter ice-cream was as melting as it should be; but the souffle’s Cornish loveliness, gilded with trendy London polish, stole the show.

And seeing as we’re working backwards, I’ll talk mains next.

Mine was the pot-roasted Newlyn Monkfish with broad beans and bacon, with a hefty helping of truffle chips on the side. My friend opted for Old Spot pork belly, with a sweet cider apple and Cornish mead sauce.

I must digress at this point to talk mead. Cue lecture.

Otherwise known as ‘honey wine’, it’s an ancient drink produced by fermenting honey and water. And Northbank wallows in the stuff.

Apart from using it in sauces, it lurks in cocktails too; and Mondays are officially Mead Mondays at Northbank Restaurant and bar with discounts as good as you’ll find in any Cornish fish market.

Strong and sweet, it’s an exciting alternative to the norm, and Northbank’s use of it is innovative. We began our visit with a Cherryelico cocktail in the bar overlooking the Thames’ grisly grey waters. Let’s call it urban seaside chic.

Mead, almond liqueur and lemonade, dotted with glace cherries, it tasted like Bakewell Tart. And the mixologist’s passion was an exciting accompaniment.

“Ramsay once told me there’s nothing that doesn’t go together,” he told us. I made a mental note to return on a summer’s evening to see what he could come up with.

Back to the middle, my monkfish was meaty and delicate all at once, the beans and bacon adding a hint of country air.

The pork belly was all twisting, high-hedged lanes and green valleys dipping to a point of blue sea. Romanticism aside, more pragmatically, it was inarguably crispy of crackling and perfectly cooked and seasoned.

And now to the beginning. Warm rolls on slate followed by a rabbit and Cornish mead terrine were tasty, but the special of scallops swam ahead. Simple and silky smooth, they melted in the mouth. I haven’t had better before or since.

With wallpaper speckled with misty, lamp-posted London scenes, dark furnishings and iconic Thames views of the Globe, Northbank is definitely a product of our capital.

But the way it borrows hints of West Country rusticity and weaves them into its contemporary dishes, is definitely unique. You’d be a rhubarb fool not to begin and end your summer with riverside mead....read more