36-38 White Hart Lane, SW13 0PZwww.anniesrestaurant.co.uk
Peculiarly, Annie’s in Barnes is easier for many Chiswickians – and Londoners generally – to reach. A short walk from Barnes Bridge railway station (a two minute journey from Chiswick main line station, 22 minutes from Waterloo), or just off a bus route from Hammersmith, and similarly near the river, it is more easily accessible all round. It buzzes with a laid back vitality that makes it feel as if you are at home relaxing inconsequentially while simultaneously being treated to a decadent night out. “The warmest of welcomes†proclaims a sign on a big, but not overly large, mirror. Yes, the décor is shabby chic – those mirrors, unremarkable cutlery and glass, huge church candles in overlarge gilded holders – but it avoids that cliché by being glitzed up with a hefty dose of glamour – dramatic wallpaper, splashes of bright colour, kitsch chandeliers. I have never felt more at home, more comfortable or more welcome in a restaurant. Annie’s in Barnes is heady with warmth.
There was no pressure to order, or to finish our meal. “The table is yours for the evening,†we were told – in a casual, just to be sure you know there is no rush kind of way – as the cork was drawn from our bottle of wine. The house red, a Spanish Tinto Garnacha, was warming with a hint of spice – just right on that cool, windy night.
If pork belly is on the menu, I’m knocking on the door. Piled high with a generous slab of crunchy crackling, it was nicely burnished and sticky with a rich, thick gravy. Perhaps it was slightly overcooked, but no matter; it was deliciously satisfying. Chargrilled lamb had that unmistakable, and beguiling, taste of charcoal; tender, moist and pinkly plump, it was perked up with a hint of minted aioli. It was undeniably competent nosh.
Puds are Annie’s finest creations. Famous for its crème brûlée, with a different flavour every day, that night’s was Cointreau. Extraordinarily creamy and with an appropriate hint of orange, the caramelised topping was generous and just-as-it-should-be crisp. Banoffee pie was astonishing. “It looks like Christmas,†said Mark. A flutter of icing sugar snow, folds of cream, pale green pistachios, a heavy drizzle of caramel sauce – and real banana. “It’s better than sex,†proclaimed Mark with yet another of his spot-on comments (and I gather he should know). It was dreamily, extravagantly, scrape-the-plate-clean good.