St John, London

This food is uncompromising. Real, bold, and honest with a blatant simplicity though dynamic flavors. Straight forward with little distractions, this is cooking in it's most basic form. With little need for current trends or posh styles, this is food that has nothing to prove other than what it is. Anything that needs to be stated is vibrantly expressed with every bite. Eating at ST. JOHN is an experience that connects human with animal on a level of understanding very rarely acknowledged. Rather than shying away from what it is that composes the meat we eat, ST. JOHN happily acknowledges these beauties of nature in a most gracious regard.

A room of lined windows and bare white walls with clean tables and a floor of wood, the dining area of ST. JOHN reflects that of the food. Lacking any fashionable pretensions though subtle elegance and sophisticated comfort. The motivating focus of honoring the quality of an animals existence is expressed though the daily changing menu. While never lacking any point of interest, the menu is a delightful assortment of odd ends and different cuts.

Somethings sound strange, other intriguing and many unique, the decisions were hard to make. But being my first time, there is a dish that ST. JOHN has become slightly famous for: Roasted Bone Marrow.

Using veal shin bones and simply roasting them, the interior becomes a soft texture of an almost meat pudding. Marrow is a dynamic flavor. The best stews are the ones made with marrow bones, the great french bordelaise sauce is so good because of the addition of bone marrow. Being able to experience a plate completely focused on the deep flavor of marrow, is like eating the essence of life.
With a little 'salad' of parsley, shallots and capers, a small mound of sea salt and some toasted bread, one has the pleasing liberty of slowly digging out scoop after scoop of the melting meat-butter. One hand maneuvers the designated tool while the other grips the bone in an almost primitive way. Spreading it atop the toast, and smelling the aromas wafting though the air, there is a feeling of romance.

Taking a bite thought the crisp bread and feeling the soft bits of fatty marrow with slivers of parsley and sprinkles of salt, transforms one into a near comatose state of extreme delight. Now working in grunts and hand gestures, there is really only one concern and it is of more marrow. While hoping to pull out one last little bit, the marvelous food obsession must come to an end. After the plates are cleared (and a new napkin is given), the sense of longing is immediate. The audacity on part of chef Fergus Henderson to continually serve this dish is magnificently bold. Uncomplicated in appearance and yet unforgettable, this was more than just an appetizer, it was edible appreciation.

Braised rabbit with carrots and spicy aioli was a smooth progression from the marrow. Having a robust aroma that can only be described as comforting, the rabbit was worthy of being called a friend. A delicate temperature braise made for soft meat without any sense of dryness. The assisting carrots held onto a great deal of their sweet flavors through all of the long cooking. Having a bright spark of creamy aioli gave dimension without jeopardizing any part of the other elements. Bacon helped in completing the range of flavors making this a soothing composition of necessity.
Coming away from the rabbit in a state of concern regarding the reduced space within one's stomach, but interest would persist and continue lunch.

With a fascination that could not be subdued, the beckoning began for the intriguing pancetta wrapped pig's bladder. A sudden breath of meat filled the senses. The flavors began with the sticky and fatty pig's belly but slowly grew into a murky mouthful of astringent aromas. The feeling of the spleen was comparable to eating liver, the flavor was however much stronger. Almost like consuming the way a butcher shop smells, the spleen was unforgiving, but it wasn't without enjoyment. Only the intense elements of sharpness from pickled gherkins, red wine vinegar and raw onions could meet the ferocious flavor already established by the rolled meats.
These are things not usually demanded for dinner. These flavors are hard to sell but even more difficult to manage. The kitchen showcases basic elemental characteristics of each specific part of the numerous animals and truly obtains a high level of success.

While the puddings were recommended by the astute server, this meal's ending was concluded with three scoops of worship worthy treacle toffee ice cream. Having a viciousness that held peaks and compared to certain French cheeses, the unquestionably delightful texture was a kiss on the lips and soothing sensation for the palate. The level of sugar was high but being composed from toffee and treacle flavors, the sweetness was expertly balanced. What a show-stopping way to finish a highly monumental meal.
St. John is a restaurant that defines the word 'cooking' in its entirety. The seasonings were layered in simple but complete fashion. Taking flavors of organs that many would turn away from, the kitchen was able to showcase it's range of knowledge and create desires where there usually would have been none. Walking the line between delicious and disturbing without ever falling from the path of focus. Meat is viewed more than just a cook-able series of objects. The animal is seen and quite masterfully showcased. Nothing goes to waste, everything is to be used and this style of "nose to tail eating" is more than a trend, its a understanding of reality. A reality that represents fundamentals, but more than anything, a level of extreme respect.