A Birthday Dinner by Heston Blumenthal at the Mandarin Oriental Hyde Park REVIEW
Heston Blumenthal at the Mandarin Oriental is a British Bastion. Speaking of whom, food history and its inherent psychology has always intrigued me. Why do we reach for certain flavours when we’re happy, and avoid foods that have bad memories attached, thereby creating our own personal history maps?

As a child I can clearly remember the alluring smell of my Dad bringing home fish and chips on dull afternoons (don’t judge me ok?) and the taste of my Aunt’s Jaffa Slice always conjures Summertime Christmases – to the extent that I had the recipe sent over to the UK as soon as I had a big enough kitchen to cook in (and obviously put in a request every time I go home for Christmas).
Take this to another level, and the recipes of yesteryear can’t help but evoke the society that it comes from. (Let’s take a moment here to consider the current crisp sandwich pop-up and freakshake generation. What will our descendants think?) Heston Blumenthal has taken this level of thought up into the gastronomic stratosphere and donning his trademark specs, he and his team have developed a decidedly unique approach to developing dishes both at the eponymous Fat Duck in Bray, and the glamorous Mandarin Oriental Hyde Park.

It’s probably no surprise that dining at the two Michelin-starred Dinner by Heston Blumenthal in the was on my birthday shortlist (it almost was the venue for the #KiwiSpoon birthday extravaganza but sadly had to be delayed with restaurant refurbishment works and our trip to the States) but 6 or so weeks later a leisurely lunch with one of my favourite Kiwis was set in stone and all I had to do was patiently (well, mostly) wait for the day to roll around. Who says that birthdays have to be only 24hours? Beginning with cocktails as the best dinners do, we settled in for an afternoon of indulgence.

DIN¬NER
Meat Fruit (c.1500)
Intrigued by the infamous chicken liver parfait disguised as a mandarin (or in our case a festive plum) we couldn’t resist ordering one to share. A disorientating British dish dating back as far as 1300 according to some research, known as “Pome Dorres” (“apples of gold”) and served celebrating the coronation of Henry IV in 1399, this labour intensive modern construction was worth every bit of the hype. The fruit ‘skin’ is a refined jelly adhered whilst the parfait is frozen and adds a medieval frisson of elegant excitement. Served at room temperature, the parfait smoothly spreads on bite-sized morsels of sourdough. Luxurious, moreish and surprisingly light, it paired beautifully with slices of Josper-grilled sourdough brushed with olive oil, rosemary, thyme, and garlic.


Though not quite as ancient in origin, my date enjoyed the Hereford Ribeye steak served with mushroom ketchup. Perfectly tender and flavoursome, as the most traditionally restaurant-y dish on the fascinating menu it definitely deserves the place it occupies. Served with cubes of bone marrow and a side of Heston‘s painstakingly perfected triple cooked chips, I claimed a (birthday-girl treat) forkful of this simple but perfectly seasoned slab of beef. Heaven. We were far too busy to photograph the sides unfortunately – imagination will have to suffice.



The dining room is a lesson in luxe hotelier surroundings – chocolate wood panelling, large windows overlooking the leafy (and mysteriously foggy) trees of Hyde Park and glass walls that allow for snooping within the kitchen – but keeps a subtle Heston theatricality of jelly moulds repurposed as light fittings for a playful touch. I adored the lack of foams, dashes and fiddly twiddles – ironic considering Heston Blumenthal‘s well-deserved TV reputation – our meal was simply delicious dishes with a touch of flair and history that made us smile, without detracting from the flavour. Our waitress was lovely, straightforward and without any kind of simpering, we didn’t want for anything whilst we dined.
All in all, it was simply a delightful way to celebrate a birthday – and the fact that the menu came with a source glossary for the sauces was simply the icing on a historic literary cake.
