White-washed walls and white tablecloths that somewhat fittingly resemble the backroom of a butcher, St. JOHN restaurant in Smithfield is a spot I’d recommend to anyone in a heartbeat. Heartbeat is an ironic choice of word for this specific restaurant as it abides by the infamous ‘nose to tail’ philosophy. St JOHN’s founders, Fergus Henderson and Trevor Gulliver, are famous for their adoption and application of this philosophy. They utilize every part of the animal in their cooking, resulting in dishes with a unique flavourful punch. Its menu focuses on back to basics British cooking, with a touch of modernity thrown in for good measure. 

One of four of the duo’s ventures, this restaurant opened in 1994, taking over from a former smoke-house. Its interior is simplistic, but is complemented by efficient and friendly staff who really know their stuff. Once seated, they introduce themselves and talk you through the menu, explaining how each dish is prepared and cooked and their suggestions of combinations. No questions receive any judgement and all receive thoughtful responses and an inevitable interesting conversation.

I’ll paint the picture. After an obnoxiously early start on a cold January morning at the Barbican Centre, I finally graduated from my Masters. My parents and brother had ventured into town to celebrate with me and decided my accomplishment warranted a table at St. JOHN for lunch. It was most definitely a treat. 

Neighbouring Smithfield Market, St. JOHN could easily be missed if you weren’t careful. I’d studied just up the road from the restaurant and it had taken me three months to open my sluggish students eyes enough to notice it one morning. Entering under a white-washed archway, we were warmly welcomed by the host and led to our table. At arguably the best table in the restaurant, we (mainly me due to the seating arrangements) had the perfect view into the kitchen. Admittedly, I spent most of my meal admiring and fan-girling over the chefs at work, but my family were as always wonderful company.  I should mention the additional surprise I was treated to: our neighbouring table guest, Mr Fergus Henderson himself. Safe to say I was a little overwhelmed by this point. 

First challenge was approaching the wine list. It is vast, intimidating and largely French. So at this point I handed the reins over to my father. Trevor Gulliver’s influence is clear. We ordered a bottle of Cotes du Rhone to share. Soft, lush and the perfect accompaniment to our meal. 

Then it was time to order. The menu changes daily so any prior planning was swiftly redundant. After much back and forth, and my insistence that no one ordered the same, we settled on four starters, four mains and two sides. To start: rabbit offal with radishes and bacon, crispy pig skin with chicory and roasted shallots, brown crab meat on toast and the renowned roast bone marrow with toast and a parsley salad. Then onto mains: teal with turnips and kale, braised lamb with chickpea and anchovy, devilled lamb kidney on toast, ham in hay with white beans and mustard, all accompanied with sides of potatoes and greens. Finally to finish off our feast, we all tucked into a creme caramel, a slice of twice baked chocolate cake and a cheeseboard. As shown by the length of that order, you can only imagine the satisfied smirks and perfectly stuffed stomachs sat at our table. 

St. JOHN’s signature dish is their roast bone marrow. It is simple, austere and yet luxurious all at once. Henderson has succeeded in his ability to take an understated and underused ingredient, run with it and create something utterly spectacular. I am not the first, and won’t be the last, to insist that if you ever visit you try this dish. The fat takes the place of butter, spread over sourdough toast and topped off with a sprinkling of salt and parsley. It’s as much about texture as it is taste. The rabbit offal was another favourite. The flavour and sharpness of the radishes jumbled up alongside the chewiness of the offal itself is simply wonderful. Nothing more to be said, but try it yourself. To finish off, St. JOHN’s almost school-like choice of puddings are transformed into something elite and rich. I’ve tried a lot of chocolate cake over the years but the lightness, whilst simultaneously heavily flavoured cake was perfectly paired with a dollop of sour cream  

All in all, I can confidently confirm that St. JOHN is more than deserving of its Michelin star and global fame. It was a truly memorable meal. The prices are not as retro as its cooking, but it is really a small price to pay for such a gastronomical experience. 

Now all that’s left to do is find another excuse to visit and manifest the day when I can join the late Anthony Bourdain and call St. JOHN my London comfort restaurant.