A fixture on West Street for an incredibly long time, The Original Ivy, the actors’ retreat is unique on London’s dining scene. And with The Ivy Edition Vol. 03 set menu now up an running, Nick thought it was high time he made an entrance
Many, many, years ago I worked in an office just a few doors down from The Ivy. When I slipped out for my lunchtime pint (back then you were allowed to leave the office), I’d see all kinds of thespians of disparate ages heading into The Ivy. I used to mentally keep score of who I saw. I rather fancied going in myself.
I was told though that it was almost impossible to get a table at lunch, unless you were in the theatre business, and that the food was only glorified school dinners because the main customers didn’t really trust ‘foreign food’. Today, it’s a lot easier, and better.
From the outside it shows its years a bit (first opened in 1917), with not a hint of glamour. In fact it looks a bit dusty and neglected. Inside though there is a magic atmosphere. The central bar is festooned with the kind of cut glasses now only seen in the (care) homes of the very elderly and the ‘brightwork’ has the patina that only comes with great age.
Pictures of famous actors line the walls and the seating is plush while art deco abounds. Light filters in through opaque stained glass windows. The rear section has large tables for groups, but individual tables offer mild privacy presumably for bitching about other actors or having sordid liaisons. Well, that’s what I like to think anyway.
The Ivy is no longer singular. It has become part of Richard Caring’s group, and the name has been leveraged to create The Ivy Collection of restaurants all across the UK. I have been to many of them and they are reliable and well-priced, but West Street is the flagship and, now known as The Original Ivy, is still sailing on as if the world hadn’t changed.
Right now it’s running a special menu, which was why we came, The Ivy Edition Vol. 03, available daily from 11.30am until close. It’s two courses for £39.95 or three courses for £49.95, which is good value. The dishes on offer reflect the simplicity of past times with not a tweezered micro leaf in sight.
We added to the final bill with a plate of Zucchini Frittis to nibble first, because I love them. These were generous, crunchy, fresh and not at all oily. Needed a bit more salt, though.
For starters proper, English Goat’s Cheese Salad with heritage tomatoes, peach and toasted almonds sounded good; Potted Shrimp with seasoned brown shrimp butter, dill-pickled cucumber and toasted granary bread, even better.
My wife, once she had stopped admiring everything around her, chose Pea and Ham Soup with smoked ham hock, lovage and pea shoots, while I had Crispy Cod Cheek with tartare sauce, cornichons and baby leaves.
The soup is given some drama by having the liquid poured around the ham at the table. This also prevents the classic ‘waiter’s thumb in the soup’, which bedevilled most hotel restaurants back in the day. It’s a vibrant green and tastes of pea, the right sort. Almost certainly frozen peas and there’s nothing at all wrong with that. The salty hock is perfect and it’s good to see lovage and taste its peppery, celery, notes.
I think back in 1917 cod’s cheek would have been thrown in the bin, it’s only relatively recently that it’s been recognised for the tasty treat it is. Crunchy and fresh, these battered beauties lapped up the tartare sauce and I do love the vinegary twang of a cornichon.
Mains were good. There’s a vegan option of Lentil and Aubergine Cottage Pie with roasted pumpkin purée and spiced tomato, which sounded kind of 1970s, and there’s beef of course but I went for Treacle-Cured Pork Cutlet with fried hen’s egg, pineapple and grain mustard sauce. Rather foolishly I added chips, which were very nice chips but mash would have been far better with the sauce.
What an incredible chop it was. Buttery soft and with the most marvellous fat that melted in the mouth (for once the cliche is apt). I could have sworn it was Iberico, it was that good. The egg on top was kind of novel, but I liked it, and the pineapple was pleasantly sharp. A dish that must have been found in an ancient cookbook, but which suited the surroundings perfectly
Pan-Fried Cornish Hake with cauliflower purée, confit potatoes, sea herbs and parsley sauce was a bit more ‘fancy’ but done very well. Hake is my favourite fish, but for some reason doesn’t get the love in the UK as it does in, say, Spain.
I rather forced P to eat a classic Eton Mess with English strawberries, and it did her right in. Delicious, but a lot of it and she had to throw in the napkin before the end. I almost had the same issue with my Banoffee Pie. Crisp filo pastry holding up crumbed biscuits, a lot of perfectly ripe bananas and a whole lot of lovely whipped cream. I slumped in my banquette happily defeated. Clearly acting requires more stamina than I thought.
The Original Ivy was worth waiting decades to finally sashay into. With a main menu that really hasn’t changed all that much since Larry Olivier was in short trousers, and with this very good and well priced Ivy Edition set menu, it clearly will be taking encores for many years to come.
1-5 West St, London WC2H 9NQ
Instagram: @theivy_original