St. John. An institution in London. It isn't a new trendy place. It isn't a scene. But it is iconic, for good reason.
St. John is the restaurant(s) by Chef Fergus Henderson, arguably one of the most influential British chefs, although, if you aren't into culinary things, you likely haven't heard of him. Gordon Ramsey? Jamie Oliver? Sure, you know them. But Fergus? He might be off your radar.
Fergus is said to have really pioneered nose to tail eating in England, that is, using whole animals, lots of offal, and cuts generally ignored. He isn't a trained chef, and never even worked as one before opening his first restaurant with his wife. And yet, has earned great acclaim, oh yeah, and some Michelin stars. For British food. Very simple British food.
St. John opened in 1994, and was awarded its first Michelin star in 2009. A second location, St. John Bread & Wine, opened in 2003, and a third, now closed, location in a hotel also earned a star. The current lineup also includes a bakery and 3rd restaurant.
I went for a simple meal, in the bar area, at the main St. John outpost in Smithfield, to try two iconic dishes: Welsh rarebit and Eccles cake. I was blown away.
I need to start with a sad story. You can skip this if you don't care about my woe.
I eagerly checked the menus when they were posted online at 5pm to find that the closer location to my hotel, St. John Restaurant, was closed for a private event. Undeterred, I made the longer trek, via the tube, to the Spitalfields location, which was listed as open, with the nightly menu posted, complete with the dishes I sought out.
So I made the trek.
Back to the tube where I had come from. Back several stops. Back out on the street. And finally, arriving at a location that looked pretty similar to the previous one, same St. John sign out front.
The entry was really strange though, a long wide hallway, with bar seating. It was vacant, but later did fill up with a few people. It was not heated, and not where I'd want to spend any time. I wonder if smoking was allowed out there?
I made my way inside to the bar area.
St. John is the restaurant(s) by Chef Fergus Henderson, arguably one of the most influential British chefs, although, if you aren't into culinary things, you likely haven't heard of him. Gordon Ramsey? Jamie Oliver? Sure, you know them. But Fergus? He might be off your radar.
Fergus is said to have really pioneered nose to tail eating in England, that is, using whole animals, lots of offal, and cuts generally ignored. He isn't a trained chef, and never even worked as one before opening his first restaurant with his wife. And yet, has earned great acclaim, oh yeah, and some Michelin stars. For British food. Very simple British food.
St. John opened in 1994, and was awarded its first Michelin star in 2009. A second location, St. John Bread & Wine, opened in 2003, and a third, now closed, location in a hotel also earned a star. The current lineup also includes a bakery and 3rd restaurant.
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| A lovely meal for one. |
I really wished I hadn't discovered it on my final night in London, as I am certain I would have returned many more times. The experience, the food, was just incredible. But not in the way you would expect from "michelin dining".
St. John is a Michelin star like no other.
Setting
My visit was to the original St. John, on St. John street, although, that is not what I intended.
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| St. John Bread & Wine, Spitalfields. |
I had wanted to visit St. John on the trip, but kept not finding the right time to do so. I almost went so many nights, but, on my final night, I was determined to make it happen.
I eagerly checked the menus when they were posted online at 5pm to find that the closer location to my hotel, St. John Restaurant, was closed for a private event. Undeterred, I made the longer trek, via the tube, to the Spitalfields location, which was listed as open, with the nightly menu posted, complete with the dishes I sought out.
It took a while to get there, but I rounded the corner, and went bounding up. But there was a paper sign on the door. It said they closed at 3pm for a private event. What?!
I double checked online. It definitely said that St. John Bread & Wine was open, and the other location was closed. But there were no diners inside. Tables were set identically, clearly laid out for a multiple course meal. The staff were all having a pre-service meeting in the bar area, where I planed to dine. It was not open.
Still ... someone saw me out front, and so I asked if they really were closed. I was told, as expected, that yes, they were closed.
I was devastated. It was my final night, I really wanted this, and, it was starting to get late, and I still needed to get back to the hotel and pack. Devastated. I explained what I had seen online, and they were confused, but welcomed me inside while they investigated. Yup, the site was backwards. The host quickly called a manager somewhere to fix it. And then he called over to the open location, and confirmed that they were open. And that they were fully booked, but, had plenty of space in the bar. I didn't ask him to do any of this!
So, he gave me directions to the other restaurant, told me who to ask for when I got there if there was any problem getting me a seat, and assured me that even if the items I wanted weren't on the bar menu, that they'd be able to get them for me. It was really quite generous of him to go out of his way to do all this, and he clearly realized that I had trekked all the way there for these two dishes.
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| St. John Bar & Restaurant. |
Back to the tube where I had come from. Back several stops. Back out on the street. And finally, arriving at a location that looked pretty similar to the previous one, same St. John sign out front.
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| Entry Bar. |
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| Bar. |
It was a small bar, with a couple seats possible, and handful of small wooden tables around the room. Very, very simple decor. Whitewashed walls. No artwork. The white walls matched the white aprons of the servers, in a fairly stark way.
All food and drinks for this area are ordered from the bartender. Food comes from the main kitchen, brought out by kitchen staff when ready. Beyond that though, you are on your own. No actual table service.
And I loved it. Everyone was just minding their own business. One neighboring tables was a couple who had just stopped by for a drink and snack on their way home, clearly regulars. Another table was a big group of friends, catching up over wine and eating basically everything on the menu. Everyone was relaxed, happy, and really just there to enjoy the food. My kind of place.
People were dressed casually, they had bags with them, and no one cared. It is the kind of place I want in my neighborhood. Like the regulars I saw, I'd gladly stop by often.
The main restaurant is an entirely separate room, noise isolated from the bar entirely. I didn't get a glimpse into that room, but I can't imagine it was that fancy, although, it does have regular table service.
On the side inside the bar area is also a small bakery window, where you can purchase bread loaves to go, and also retail wine. I only saw one customer get bread while I was there, but I imagine that is more of a daytime draw.
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| Bakery. |
The food menu is written on a chalkboard here, and you order from the bartender directly.
The St. John Smithfield Bar & Restaurant is open daily, serving lunch every day but Saturday, and dinner nightly. The bar area is in continuous operation throughout the day. Other locations are also open for breakfast.
The menu is, well, offal based. And yet, what I sought out was vegetarian. The St. John menu is always changing, yet there are two savory dishes that always remain: welsh rarebit and bone marrow. It is the former that I was on a mission to have. Why? Well, partially because I don't think I've ever really had it before. Also, um, they've sold a quarter million of these things?! They must be doing *something* right with the dish.
That all said, I wished I was able to dine with a group, and share more items. The entire menu is designed to be casual style, sharing. The table next to me was a group of 4, who ordered many, many dishes, so I at least got to peek at theirs, and see what I was missing. I really want to go back.
The restaurant has a slightly different menu from the bar, but there is lots of overlap.
I started by ordering a glass of wine, asking for a recommendation for something that would pair well with the Welsh rarebit. I assume this is a common question, but the bartender acted thoughtful, suggested one (I missed the name), and poured me a taste before I had a second to even ask for further info.
It was light yet bold enough to stand up to what I expected to be strong flavors in the cheese topping, and slightly jammy, which I thought would pair well with the dessert I planned to order as well. I quickly agreed to a glass of it.
I was given a very generous pour, and enjoyed it, as expected, with both dishes.
I had to get the welsh rarebit. There really was no choice, right? I'm not sure I've ever actually *had* welsh rarebit before, and by all counts this is supposed to be the best in the world.
Welsh rarebit is a simple dish: a slice of bread toasted, topped with rarebit mix, then placed under a grill for just a minute, until golden brown. How good could that be? I was about to find out. This rarebit is such a thing in the UK, that you can even buy the St. John rarebit mixture at the supermarket.
It arrived quickly, and was placed down ceremoniously in front of me. It was huge! I was expecting a standard size slice of bread, but this was a lofty monster. I'm curious what the loaf they cut it from looks like?
The top looked beautiful: shiny, perfectly toasted, glistening. The cheese mixture oozed down the sides slightly.
Oh, man.
I was nervous to dig in. This was a first for me, and I had no one around to teach me!
"At St. JOHN we always suggest that our diners eat the Rarebit with Worcestershire Sauce. Score the surface of the toasted rarebit to make criss-cross irrigation channels, then liberally drip with sauce".
As soon as I ordered it, I was brought a bottle of Worcestershire sauce. I would not have known what to do with this, if I hadn't done way too much research. I knew what to do: score it, and sauce it.
I tried one bite plain first to taste the mix, and then, did as instructed.
So, what is in the mix? Its aged cheddar, beer (in this case, I think Guinness), mustard (they use English mustard powder), a bit of flour, and uh, butter. Oh and a "very long splash" of Worcestershire sauce.
The topping wasn't quite what I expected. I think I thought it would be more like grilled cheese, or a croque monsieur, ooey-ooey cheese. But instead, it was a thick paste, with deep cheese flavor from the cheddar, but, not gooey cheese at all. So cheese, but not cheesy. If that makes any sense.
The cheese topping had a bit of spice from the mustard, and depth from the beer. That said, it was a bit bland. Until ... you add Worcestershire sauce. I thought I put on a reasonable amount, kinda splashing it all over (and yup, it does pool up nicely in the cracks as suggested!), but I found it even better once I added more and more. It really boosted up the other flavors.
Very savory, intense in its own way, very comforting. Warm comfort food for sure. I particularly liked the bits where it dripped down the side.
Now, for the other component, as it wasn't *just* rarebit mix all alone after all: the toast!
The toast was good, perfectly toasted, thick sliced, white bread of some sort. I really liked the crusty edges. They make the bread in-house, along with actually a full bakery, where you can purchase all sorts of breads, so I expected no less. Very good quality bread, but, the slice was really large for me to want *that* much bread myself. That much cheese? Hah, no problem, so I just scraped off the remainder of the rarebit mix when I grew sick of the bread.
I enjoyed the experience of eating it. I'm really glad I got to try it. And it did go nicely with the wine the bartender selected. That said, I'm not sure I'd really seek out rarebit again though ... I'm just not a bread/toast eater, but, I claim this is really the origin of "artisan toast"!
I'd love to have the rarebit mixture incorporated into other dishes though ... like as a spread on a burger, or perhaps served like a fondue with some fruit? I'm sure the masses are already doing these things anyway.
"Our eccles cakes do use butter! Three little slits on top, traditionally, representing The Holy Trinity. there are two sizes, regular and mini. Full of lovely spices and fruit mix, nothing from a jar here, a great restorative and lovely with Lancashire cheese which is how we serve it at St JOHN. "
Another new item for me: Eccles cake. While I had heard of Welsh Rarebit before, I don't think I had even heard of this one. And I don't know why. The rest of the world is missing out on Eccles cake.
What is Eccles cake? Well, to start, not a cake. Just like, uh, "pudding" isn't what I think of as pudding in England. Not a cake. At all. Which is good, because, I don't like cake very much.
Eccles cake is more like a pie than a cake, as it is a pastry, stuffed with seasoned currents, named after the town of Eccles. It was not invented by St. John, but their version is pretty famous. It is nearly always on the menu, available at most locations after 11am. You can find the recipe in Nose to Tail Eating, by Fergus Henderson.
I had read up on it, so I knew basically what to expect, but still wasn't quite sure about it. It sounded like mincemeat basically, just, inside a pastry rather than on a pie crust. That didn't seem particularly good, and perhaps there is a reason we don't have it in the US? I almost went for the bread pudding with butterscotch sauce and ice cream instead. But I stuck with my plan, and ordered it.
Like many dishes at St. John, this is pretty rustic. Served cold, just on a plate, no garnish. The top had the three slashes, with a bit of filling spilling out. It looked hard and crispy.
The filling is spiced, sweetened currants, blended with brown sugar and butter, and seasoned with allspice and nutmeg. It sounds pretty simple, really. But it wasn't really what I expected ...
It sounds kinda like non-boozy mincemeat right? But it wasn't anything like mincemeat, partially because it was *just* currant, no other dried fruit, no nuts, just currants, and because it had only minimal spicing.
The filling was sweet and jammy, yet a hint savory. But very sweet. I know that doesn't make sense. I loved the slightly chewy nature to it. But wow, it was sweet. I love my sweets, but this was a lot. And there was a lot of it.
I found myself loving this, but also being overwhelmed by sweetness. I understand that the cheese should help with that, but, I really wasn't wanting more cheese. My wine was a good pairing, and it did help too, but still, I found myself wanting something like a scoop of ice cream (oooh, and it served warm?) or some whipped cream.
This might sound funny, as this was crazy sweet, but I actually think it wasn't an ideal dessert. It was far too sweet to be a breakfast pastry though, so, I think the ideal would be afternoon tea? I saved a chunk and enjoyed it alongside a cup of tea the next afternoon on my flight home, and, even a day old, it was fantastic.
I'd certainly get one again, although I would prefer to just get one at the bakery to go, for only £3, without the cheese. And I'd try warming it, and serving with ice cream ...
This made me question why mincemeat pies exist though, as Eccles Cake is clearly so superior.
Food & Drink
"At St. John our menu changes daily except for two items which always remain – the Bone Marrow & Parsley Salad and of course our Welsh Rarebit. 2014 marked not only our 20th birthday, but also the point at which we reached a quarter of a million rarebits sold."The menu at each location is different, and changes daily, and often between meals.
The St. John Smithfield Bar & Restaurant is open daily, serving lunch every day but Saturday, and dinner nightly. The bar area is in continuous operation throughout the day. Other locations are also open for breakfast.
The menu is, well, offal based. And yet, what I sought out was vegetarian. The St. John menu is always changing, yet there are two savory dishes that always remain: welsh rarebit and bone marrow. It is the former that I was on a mission to have. Why? Well, partially because I don't think I've ever really had it before. Also, um, they've sold a quarter million of these things?! They must be doing *something* right with the dish.
That all said, I wished I was able to dine with a group, and share more items. The entire menu is designed to be casual style, sharing. The table next to me was a group of 4, who ordered many, many dishes, so I at least got to peek at theirs, and see what I was missing. I really want to go back.
The restaurant has a slightly different menu from the bar, but there is lots of overlap.
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| Wine. |
It was light yet bold enough to stand up to what I expected to be strong flavors in the cheese topping, and slightly jammy, which I thought would pair well with the dessert I planned to order as well. I quickly agreed to a glass of it.
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| Welsh Rarebit. £6. |
Welsh rarebit is a simple dish: a slice of bread toasted, topped with rarebit mix, then placed under a grill for just a minute, until golden brown. How good could that be? I was about to find out. This rarebit is such a thing in the UK, that you can even buy the St. John rarebit mixture at the supermarket.
It arrived quickly, and was placed down ceremoniously in front of me. It was huge! I was expecting a standard size slice of bread, but this was a lofty monster. I'm curious what the loaf they cut it from looks like?
The top looked beautiful: shiny, perfectly toasted, glistening. The cheese mixture oozed down the sides slightly.
Oh, man.
I was nervous to dig in. This was a first for me, and I had no one around to teach me!
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| Welsh Rarebit: Scored and Sauced! |
I tried one bite plain first to taste the mix, and then, did as instructed.
So, what is in the mix? Its aged cheddar, beer (in this case, I think Guinness), mustard (they use English mustard powder), a bit of flour, and uh, butter. Oh and a "very long splash" of Worcestershire sauce.
The topping wasn't quite what I expected. I think I thought it would be more like grilled cheese, or a croque monsieur, ooey-ooey cheese. But instead, it was a thick paste, with deep cheese flavor from the cheddar, but, not gooey cheese at all. So cheese, but not cheesy. If that makes any sense.
The cheese topping had a bit of spice from the mustard, and depth from the beer. That said, it was a bit bland. Until ... you add Worcestershire sauce. I thought I put on a reasonable amount, kinda splashing it all over (and yup, it does pool up nicely in the cracks as suggested!), but I found it even better once I added more and more. It really boosted up the other flavors.
Very savory, intense in its own way, very comforting. Warm comfort food for sure. I particularly liked the bits where it dripped down the side.
Now, for the other component, as it wasn't *just* rarebit mix all alone after all: the toast!
The toast was good, perfectly toasted, thick sliced, white bread of some sort. I really liked the crusty edges. They make the bread in-house, along with actually a full bakery, where you can purchase all sorts of breads, so I expected no less. Very good quality bread, but, the slice was really large for me to want *that* much bread myself. That much cheese? Hah, no problem, so I just scraped off the remainder of the rarebit mix when I grew sick of the bread.
I enjoyed the experience of eating it. I'm really glad I got to try it. And it did go nicely with the wine the bartender selected. That said, I'm not sure I'd really seek out rarebit again though ... I'm just not a bread/toast eater, but, I claim this is really the origin of "artisan toast"!
I'd love to have the rarebit mixture incorporated into other dishes though ... like as a spread on a burger, or perhaps served like a fondue with some fruit? I'm sure the masses are already doing these things anyway.
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| Eccles Cake and Lancashire Cheese. £8.50. |
And then it was time for dessert. The other iconic dish I was there for.
What is Eccles cake? Well, to start, not a cake. Just like, uh, "pudding" isn't what I think of as pudding in England. Not a cake. At all. Which is good, because, I don't like cake very much.
Eccles cake is more like a pie than a cake, as it is a pastry, stuffed with seasoned currents, named after the town of Eccles. It was not invented by St. John, but their version is pretty famous. It is nearly always on the menu, available at most locations after 11am. You can find the recipe in Nose to Tail Eating, by Fergus Henderson.
I had read up on it, so I knew basically what to expect, but still wasn't quite sure about it. It sounded like mincemeat basically, just, inside a pastry rather than on a pie crust. That didn't seem particularly good, and perhaps there is a reason we don't have it in the US? I almost went for the bread pudding with butterscotch sauce and ice cream instead. But I stuck with my plan, and ordered it.
Like many dishes at St. John, this is pretty rustic. Served cold, just on a plate, no garnish. The top had the three slashes, with a bit of filling spilling out. It looked hard and crispy.
I took a bite, and my fear that I made the wrong dessert choice subsided.
I was blown away by the pastry. It was incredibly buttery, incredibly flaky, incredibly crispy. It was fantastic. I loved how crisp it was, but also, how layered it was. This was killer pastry, such rich flavor. The top was brushed with egg wash and sugar, which added a bit of a caramelized top too. Incredible.
At St. John, the Eccles cake comes served with a wedge of Lancashire cheese, which seemed totally reasonable to me, as I grew up eating apple pie with a slice of cheese on the side. Fruity spiced pie and cheese, not strange.
The cheese was fine, a decently matured cheese, flaky, and it did go with the sweet pie nicely, it helped cut the sweetness. That said, I didn't love it, and really might have just been a bit sick of cheese from the rarebit.
But back to the main attraction, the "cake". Much like the Welsh rarebit, I had a moment of not quite knowing what to do with it.
I cut it in half. I was surprised by what I found, again, even though I had read all about it before. So much filling! Much more filling than pastry.
I was blown away by the pastry. It was incredibly buttery, incredibly flaky, incredibly crispy. It was fantastic. I loved how crisp it was, but also, how layered it was. This was killer pastry, such rich flavor. The top was brushed with egg wash and sugar, which added a bit of a caramelized top too. Incredible.
At St. John, the Eccles cake comes served with a wedge of Lancashire cheese, which seemed totally reasonable to me, as I grew up eating apple pie with a slice of cheese on the side. Fruity spiced pie and cheese, not strange.
The cheese was fine, a decently matured cheese, flaky, and it did go with the sweet pie nicely, it helped cut the sweetness. That said, I didn't love it, and really might have just been a bit sick of cheese from the rarebit.
But back to the main attraction, the "cake". Much like the Welsh rarebit, I had a moment of not quite knowing what to do with it.
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| Eccles Cake: Inside. |
The filling is spiced, sweetened currants, blended with brown sugar and butter, and seasoned with allspice and nutmeg. It sounds pretty simple, really. But it wasn't really what I expected ...
It sounds kinda like non-boozy mincemeat right? But it wasn't anything like mincemeat, partially because it was *just* currant, no other dried fruit, no nuts, just currants, and because it had only minimal spicing.
The filling was sweet and jammy, yet a hint savory. But very sweet. I know that doesn't make sense. I loved the slightly chewy nature to it. But wow, it was sweet. I love my sweets, but this was a lot. And there was a lot of it.
I found myself loving this, but also being overwhelmed by sweetness. I understand that the cheese should help with that, but, I really wasn't wanting more cheese. My wine was a good pairing, and it did help too, but still, I found myself wanting something like a scoop of ice cream (oooh, and it served warm?) or some whipped cream.
This might sound funny, as this was crazy sweet, but I actually think it wasn't an ideal dessert. It was far too sweet to be a breakfast pastry though, so, I think the ideal would be afternoon tea? I saved a chunk and enjoyed it alongside a cup of tea the next afternoon on my flight home, and, even a day old, it was fantastic.
I'd certainly get one again, although I would prefer to just get one at the bakery to go, for only £3, without the cheese. And I'd try warming it, and serving with ice cream ...
This made me question why mincemeat pies exist though, as Eccles Cake is clearly so superior.
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