Rating: GGGGG
The Avalon's large, imposing appearance is entirely fitting as it is named after the mythical island King Arthur supposedly retired to after his last battle and is, according to legend, where the sword Excalibur was forged. Inside, there's nothing outdated or Medieval about the décor; combining the authentic industrial feel of Arthurian taverns with the more luxurious nature of modern-day destination restaurants, the interior is all about oversized chandeliers, mahogany display cabinets and shiny white wall tiles inlaid with pictures from the 1853 editions of the Illustrated London News. The rest of the furnishings are pretty damn fabulous, too, with large wooden tables, expansive bench seating and a mosaic of mirrors at the far end that worked to open up the available space. And space there is plenty of, with the main bar area catering to 95 thirsty customers and the restaurant able to serve 75 ravenous diners. Not wanting to embarrass ourselves by getting blind drunk at the bar beforehand (trust us, it has happened), we made our way straight through to the dining room.
Executive Chef Massimo Tebaldi is the man behind the menu, which is made up of hearty 19th-century country fare; think dark game dishes, carbohydrate-packed potatoes cooked in every shape and form, bold flavours to overwhelm the senses, an abundance of slow-cooked dishes and plenty of fresh-out-the-ground vegetables. After being served a large jug of ice-cold water (it was a nice not to have to order it - a small touch, but appreciated), we perused the extensive menu as the dining room quickly filled up with a mixed, boisterous crowd; groups of chatterbox friends drunkenly clinked glasses, family dinners (and, no doubt, secrets) unfolded around us, and one or two dates got off to rocky starts. We even spied another couple of reviewers (at least, we think!), made up of a razor-thin man with his nose in the air and a crazy-haired woman jotting down every minor detail of her visit in her pocket-sized notebook (we're guessing Tatler?). The one thing the crowd did have in common, however, was an appetite for good-quality, reasonably-priced food - something we were all hoping to get at The Avalon.
For starters Gunpowder opted for Lobster Caesar Salad and Warm Chorizo, Goat's Cheese with Raspberry Vinaigrette. The goat's cheese was creamy but firm, with it crumbling beneath the fork rather than melting - just the way we like it. The Chorizo, while not particularly warm, was spicy, meaty and bursting with enough Mediterranean flavour to make us want to up sticks and move to Spain. There isn't much to say about the lobster Caesar salad other than it was a Ceasar salad with white chunks of lobster meat instead of chicken breast; a nice twist on an American classic, but missing the wow factor it deserved.
For mains, Gunpowder decided to order two distinctly carnivorous dishes; 10-Hour Slow-Cooked Lamb Shoulder with Anchovy and Caper Sauce, and Veal Ossobuco with Saffron Risotto and Gremolata. Although it fell off the bone with one prod of the fork, the lamb itself was decidedly bland. Even the deliciously rich anchovy and caper sauce couldn't disguise the fact that something was missing - namely the intense, overwhelming flavour we've come to love of our favourite red meat. That said, the veal was melt-in-the-mouth and heavenly on the tongue. These were joined by side orders of salty Wilted Spinach and crispy Hand-Cut Chips, which were, as it happens, faultless. One thing we couldn't quite get our collective head around was the wait between our starters and main courses; it was quite lengthy, and, given that staff knew reviewers were present, you'd think they'd have hurried it up - after all, the lamb had already been cooked for ten hours.
The dessert menu, while not extensive, was extremely well put-together. Brimming with classics such as Sticky Toffee Pudding and Crème Caramel, we couldn't wait to get stuck in. We chose the Lemon Meringue Pie and Bitter Valrhona Chocolate Tart - and what good choices they were! The lemon meringue was like Gunpowder's grandma used to make - only better (sorry, nan!), with fluffy white meringue atop a base of zesty lemon and a soft, crumbly base. Surprisingly, the meringue didn't need cream - the lemon was moist enough to wet the lips and satisfy our lust for something sweet. And there there was the chocolate tart; despite its name, it certainly didn't leave a bitter taste in the mouth, with the rich, warm cocoa contrasting beautifully with the cold vanilla ice-cream it was served with.
In short, The Avalon has all makings of great gastropub - the décor, the ambience and the menus - but the food does fall a little short for somewhere peddling a true gastronomic experience. If we were to visit again - and we certainly would - we'd opt for a good-old fashioned Wagyu Rump Steak and a pint of The Avalon's finest ale rather than one of its more complicated dishes. After all, there's nothing wrong with good old-fashioned pub grub - no doubt King Arthur himself would have agreed.
www.theavalonlondon.co.uk / Images: The Avalon
