Just note that the spelling is Midsummer and not Midsomer. And the only nettles were crisp fried on the plate rather than in the cast.
We are at Midsummer House on Midsummer Common in Cambridge, the single Michelin starred restaurant in East Anglia – or so I’m told.
Despite being on the cam, in that perverse English way the main restaurant is in a conservatory overlooking a walled garden where we can see the staff tooing and froing to the restaurant’s storage room and wine cellar under a nearby bridge.
Across the room I spot what looks like a small box to inter the body of a small child. At first I assume it is cigars, illegal of course, and then when I see some tongs I guess that it may be a selection of sugars to go with coffee – after all Per Se in New York offers a choice of something like 17 different salts.
Bearing in mind my health (fragile still since poisoning in Dubai) and the age of my mother the degustation isn’t on the menu. We kick off with some very pink champagne with a fine mouse (okay I mean mousse) and an excellent balance of acid and flavour which instantly revives me and make me wonder if I’ve really been suffering some extreme form of alcohol withdrawal.
Tiny cheese scones in a copper pan and home made potato crisps with a balsamic dip start us off for what is one of the most obsequious service experiences I’ve had in a while. There appears to be a two foot exclusion zone around the table as they prance around us. I thought it may be just me used to the more casual Australian form of service but my mother and Ray notice this too.
A palate cleanser is a pink grapefruit foam or mouse and is quite large. The same goes for a nutty butternut squash veloute with mushrooms and (I think) nuts)
For me it is culinary hits all the way. For starter I have a simple dish .
Seared Hand Dived Scallops, Celeriac, Truffle, Granny Smiths and Caramel
Next I knock off three items from from culinary hit list. I start with scallops, huge ones the likes of ones I hadn’t seen before, their footprint the same as a bottle of Becks, and about two inches thick. One is a meal in itself and two nearly fill me completely.
Sauteed Sea Bass, Spiced Onion and Coriander, Carrot, Orange and Cardamom
But I have to save room for seabass, with its crisp skin. It is served in the same avant garde way in which many dishes are served in melbourne with a brushstroke of colour – orange in this case- slashed across the plate. The flesh , soft and yielding is everything I expect. Despite it’s looks it is prepared simply and just what I wanted.
My mother’s turbot was also perfectly cooked but coated in nuts perhaps fancier than needs be. But again eating some of the turbot I tick off another fish on my agenda.
Ray chose a freshwater fish, Zander with a strong flavour and soft flesh not to different to pike.
Mango Salad, Passion Fruit and Mango Bavarois, Passion Fruit Sorbet, Peppermint Tea Jelly
Now to the finale, a dish we’d seen doing the room, with liquid nitrogen shot with mint wafting across the room. The drama of the dish makes it a winner with guests it spurting fountains of the nitrogen around the pyramid of mango mouse, chunks of mango and a pale quenelle.
Finally the wooden box comes back into view. A pedestal arrives and the box is placed upon it and opened to reveal an chocolate selection.
The chocolates are impressive, especially the white curry ganache, but the whole show is ludicrous and pretentious but doesn’t detract from the quality of the meal.
I would rank Midsummer House up there with any two hat restaurant in Melbourne, driven by the quality of ingredients (many of which are unavailable in Melbourne) and the the attention to detail. But it comes at a price – about 340 pounds for three. That’s nearly $1,000.
At the top end I’ve always maintained that the real exchange rate for food is dollar for pound rather than 2.5. And Midsummer House just proves the point.
Bottereux
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