London - Daphne's
Winter 2010
Frank's view 
Food quality the tragic flaw in this Tuscan drama
Lettuce leaves with brown wilted edges and avocado harder than the rock at its core.
What was the chef at Daphne's thinking?
Surely it is a fundamental principle of a good restaurant that if the produce isn't perfect, you don't serve it. Even Banoffee, the kids' fluffy special lop-eared rabbit would have twitched his nose at the baby leaves on the crab salad (£10.75). My fork chased the chippings of avodaco around the plate until a revised strategy saw them scooped up, although their tooth breaking texture did make me wonder what masochistic demon I was playing to.
The Camel's companion started with Pears Prosciutto (£8.75) which wasn't much better. Firm pears garnished fine ham but the plate was as dry as a dog stripped bone. I know prosciutto is by definition dry but the presumption was that a moist pear might tease the taste buds.
It all started with such promise on a prime window table in this Tuscan terracota walled trattoria with crisp white table cloths and sharp dressed diners. Where to watch is the dilemma. Opposite, on Draycott Avenue, is Joseph, Bamford and Gaultier where size zeros strutt the catwalk on the giant plasma screen. The monotony of supermodel cool across the street is interspersed with the occasional life model passer-by. Around 1pm an increasing number stop and enter Daphne's and, amazingly, many are men. The restaurant screams 'ladies who lunch' and yet on this particular lunchtime most were men. Daphne's clearly has cornered the local business lunch market.
The bar area is an appealing place to have a pre-dining drink so don't be too concerned about turning up early or being asked to wait for a short while. The restaurant is divided into three sections with the short straw blatantly drawn in the middle. If people viewing is your thing, then the front is essential. The floor to ceiling windows open in the summer and when you tire of watching the street (and Jean Paul's catwalk) turn inwards because this is the favoured chamber of Daphne's elite. The rear room, or conservatory as it is called, hosts large private parties and is obviously popular with the 'we're here to eat and talk to our friends' crew because other guest gossip options are limited. The sad people who are plonked in no man's land must simply look to the right, then look to the left and wonder how they move up the pecking order. Perhaps if you fill in the form on the web site and become a 'Friend of Daphne's'?
The main courses were placed in front of us by the extremely charming and attentive waiting staff. Fans of 'The Camel' will be aware that the Camel's Companion is a fan, nay connoisseur, of the famous Marseille bouilliabaise and is magnetised to any hint of fish soup on a menu. She also has a penchant for clams so Brodetto di Pesce (£19.25) was too much to resist. Hope that the Antipasti disappointment might be made good by a stunning Secondi faded as she chewed the clams and pushed around the thick creamy sauce of this fish stew. I elected the special of the day - Seafood Pasta (£19). It appeared as linguini with mussels, prawns and unfortunately chewy squid.
Who did do the chef's buying at market that morning?
The house wines by the glass were excellent and it's always refreshing to end a meal with fresh mint tea, something all restaurants with mint in the kitchen should offer. The staff were delightful and the ambience was relaxing. But the food was the tragic flaw in this Tuscan drama.
Daphne's
112 Draycott Avenue
London SW3 3AE
020 7589 4257
http://www.daphnes-restaurant.co.uk/
What was the chef at Daphne's thinking?
Surely it is a fundamental principle of a good restaurant that if the produce isn't perfect, you don't serve it. Even Banoffee, the kids' fluffy special lop-eared rabbit would have twitched his nose at the baby leaves on the crab salad (£10.75). My fork chased the chippings of avodaco around the plate until a revised strategy saw them scooped up, although their tooth breaking texture did make me wonder what masochistic demon I was playing to.
The Camel's companion started with Pears Prosciutto (£8.75) which wasn't much better. Firm pears garnished fine ham but the plate was as dry as a dog stripped bone. I know prosciutto is by definition dry but the presumption was that a moist pear might tease the taste buds.
It all started with such promise on a prime window table in this Tuscan terracota walled trattoria with crisp white table cloths and sharp dressed diners. Where to watch is the dilemma. Opposite, on Draycott Avenue, is Joseph, Bamford and Gaultier where size zeros strutt the catwalk on the giant plasma screen. The monotony of supermodel cool across the street is interspersed with the occasional life model passer-by. Around 1pm an increasing number stop and enter Daphne's and, amazingly, many are men. The restaurant screams 'ladies who lunch' and yet on this particular lunchtime most were men. Daphne's clearly has cornered the local business lunch market.
The bar area is an appealing place to have a pre-dining drink so don't be too concerned about turning up early or being asked to wait for a short while. The restaurant is divided into three sections with the short straw blatantly drawn in the middle. If people viewing is your thing, then the front is essential. The floor to ceiling windows open in the summer and when you tire of watching the street (and Jean Paul's catwalk) turn inwards because this is the favoured chamber of Daphne's elite. The rear room, or conservatory as it is called, hosts large private parties and is obviously popular with the 'we're here to eat and talk to our friends' crew because other guest gossip options are limited. The sad people who are plonked in no man's land must simply look to the right, then look to the left and wonder how they move up the pecking order. Perhaps if you fill in the form on the web site and become a 'Friend of Daphne's'?
The main courses were placed in front of us by the extremely charming and attentive waiting staff. Fans of 'The Camel' will be aware that the Camel's Companion is a fan, nay connoisseur, of the famous Marseille bouilliabaise and is magnetised to any hint of fish soup on a menu. She also has a penchant for clams so Brodetto di Pesce (£19.25) was too much to resist. Hope that the Antipasti disappointment might be made good by a stunning Secondi faded as she chewed the clams and pushed around the thick creamy sauce of this fish stew. I elected the special of the day - Seafood Pasta (£19). It appeared as linguini with mussels, prawns and unfortunately chewy squid.
Who did do the chef's buying at market that morning?
The house wines by the glass were excellent and it's always refreshing to end a meal with fresh mint tea, something all restaurants with mint in the kitchen should offer. The staff were delightful and the ambience was relaxing. But the food was the tragic flaw in this Tuscan drama.
Daphne's
112 Draycott Avenue
London SW3 3AE
020 7589 4257
http://www.daphnes-restaurant.co.uk/
Be Frank: agree or disagree? What do you think?
