30 Henrietta St, London WC2E 8NA
Perhaps like the 19th century courtesan that the restaurant is named after, Cora Pearl reveals its charms slowly, but beguilingly. The ground floor room is relatively small – with some genuinely uncomfortable tables – but lighter than expected for a Covent Garden townhouse, thanks to the windows at the back which overlook the “hidden” gardens of St Paul’s church. By all accounts, downstairs is tighter still.
The small front of house team go about their work unobtrusively, but when engaged with, are enthusiastic and informed. And most diners will have questions, because the menu gives little of its pleasures away. In some cases, there is genuine mystery as to the listing (Brown Shrimp Ranhöfer, Quail Caesar!); in others, the simplicity of the description (Pork & Onions, Cod & Devilled Crab, Milk & Cookies) requires further explanation in order to uncover the actual nature of the dish.
It seems as if every on-trend restaurant must offer “snacks” these days, but Cora Pearl’s are particularly fun. Brown Shrimp Ranhöfer was described to us as “like a prawn cocktail, but served on a crouton”, which rather undersells the heritage of the dish. Seemingly inspired by Lobster Newberg, a dish created by chef Charles Ranhöfer in the late 19th century, the shrimp were more tightly bound by a light mayonnaise than would have been the case with the cream and butter sauce of the original creation, but the traditional pinch of paprika was happily present. The cube of fried bread on which the mix was based yielded more easily than its bronzed outer crust at first suggested. The Cheese and Ham Toastie was just that, but no less a delight. Familiar yet finessed, the crustless fat fingers of bread had been brushed with butter before being pan-fried, and the rich melted cheese and shredded ham filling made one want to revisit those student toasties of yore, to re-make them this way. The Branston-like pickle just added to the nostalgia.
The main courses were just as straightforward, but no less enticing. Pork & Onions featured two pieces of tender Iberico Presa, served pink, together with an onion puree, charred shallot leaves and some griddled spring onions, all brought together by a rich reduction. The perfectly flaky tranche of cod was topped with a curried white crab mix and surrounded by some unadvertised chargrilled cauliflower florets that, according to their recipient, jostled for top billing on the plate. Indeed, the kitchen shows a deft hand with vegetables as a much-enjoyed side of broccoli and almonds attested to. And the chips…well, famously, these were the chips that prompted Giles Coren to give Cora his heart. And they are quite something, although not dissimilar to those that can be found at the Quality Chop House (whose idea was it first?!). Wafer thin layers of potato, pressed and deep fried, give a superior crunch, although (and I hope that Cora will forgive this particular peccadillo) I missed the fluffy internal contrast to the exterior crisp.
Milk & Cookies turned out to be a thick creamy dome covering chunks of broken cookies and some melted chocolate. It was a great big cuddle of a desert and the perfect way to end a couple of hours in Cora’s company. In comparison, the poached peach desert with earl grey ice cream was a little too restrained, with the ice cream lacking the spicy floral kick needed to bring the dish together. Fortunately, the portion of smoked honey and orange chocolates meant that we each got one, which was just as well, because we would have fought for any spares as if they were Cora’s last kiss.
The food at Cora Pearl achieves the trick of not scaring the unadventurous, whilst at the same time impressing those who have seen it all before. It’s playful yet precise, and modest but a treat. Let Cora Pearl take you by the hand and show you a good time. She wants to please and she knows what she’s doing.
a-bit-of-a-mouthful.com 