Dinner / £££ / 6/10

My favourite kind of restaurant will always be independents; however there is room in most big cities to welcome chain restaurants. They often save beautiful buildings, offer value for money and are reliably consistent. The Ivy offers a bit more with glamour and a touch of fine dining (read they have table cloths and very nice crockery).

On that note I was really excited to hear about The Ivy opening in Nottingham, it is long overdue (Leeds has 2, for gods sake) and would bring the old Cafe Rouge building back to hospitality. An absolute bonus if you have no desire to go shopping for mens clothes but appreciate gorgeous high ceilings and decadence. We booked to go for dinner with friends and arrived for a 19.30 booking a month after opening. We were warmly greeted and shown to the bar for a drink before our table was ready. The whole place is very grand and what it might miss for those who love maximalist interiors it definitely makes up for with the addition of Christmas decorations (it was mid November). The place screamed ‘BUSY’ and I found it a touch overwhelming. Early Christmas decorations were like fuel to a fire with The Northerner but we ordered cocktails and had a look at the menu. I am now at an age where I tend to preview a menu so I can enjoy the night as much as possible – this is also a small concession to my dreadful eyesight. If you too struggle; look and decide before getting there, the menu is written in size 6 font. As I lent on the bar and sipped my delicious cocktail I was a little disappointed at how sticky it was and then I realised the staff are nearly a metre away from the actual bar top (with speed rails, drip trays etc) with very little chance to wipe down between visitors.

Our table was to the left of the entrance in a raised area and I was relieved not to be in the main dining room – although the buzz communicated an enviable trade and table turnover. As I walked to the table it struck me how diverse the customers were. Big work parties, families, older couples, date nights and groups of friends in their fifties – the fact I am remarking on it made me realise that most of the restaurants I go to dominated by one tribe and this felt ‘refreshing’.

We decided we were going to have 3 courses and ordered a bottle of wine, service was attentive but a little slow and they keep the wine chilled in communal wine buckets just far enough away from the table to mean you can’t lean to get the bottle. Great if your waiter is ON IT and keeps your glasses full, not so great if they are so busy they don’t even realise when you have finished the bottle and are trying to get their attention to order more. At one point I double ordered more water as we hadn’t seen anyone passing in quite a while. For starters The Northerner had the cheese souffle and I went for the smoked salmon, my smoked salmon was simply served but was laid out in such an opulent way I felt an abundance of generosity from the kitchen – clever. Unfortunately The Northerners souffle missed enough delicious cheese sauce to keep it from being a cooked egg white when you got to the middle and the slight char made it bitter.

When my main course of seabass arrived I was impressed by the crisp skin and then remembered….. delicate fish….. crisp skin……. eurgh. The fish was overcook and fibrous. The sauce that came with it was a delicious accompaniment and I even tried to eat the fish skin thinking ‘well if you are willing to cremate the fish I should try and enjoy that part you did it for’ but alas fish skin is not for me.

The Northerners Shepherds Pie was presented nicely (so hard with a pie) but I wonder whoever wants to chomp on a sprig of charred rosemary? It had a deep, comforting flavour and the extra jug of gravy on the side made The Northerner very happy. You’ve got to love a cliche. There was a definite need for some kind of vegetable side dish for a balanced meal but The Northerner laughs in the face of balance and ordered a side of chips.

At this point in the evening the slower service was beginning to show as tables around us complained and you could see their evenings fraying at the edges. I was not deterred though, smoked salmon, 1 seabass fillet and some mushrooms meant I was still hungry and wanted a dessert. We were told when the menu’s were delivered that they had run out of Sticky Toffee Pudding, I picked my jaw off the table, swallowed my disappointment and decided to console myself with an Apple Tart.

The tart came on wafer thin shards of pastry and in the other hand the waiter held a blow torch, a copper pan and a smile. Did I want my Apple Tart ‘flaming’ with Calvados? Another person (Rob) at our table that had ordered the same enthusiastically agreed and during the time his was ‘flambeed’ I decided that no, I didn’t want the same. After warming the copper pan and setting light to the contents it was poured over the tart after 5 seconds. The booze hit the plate to lots of ahhhs and oooohhhhs and then immediately went out. The tart swam in the booze and being a lover of crisp pastry this strengthened my resolve when the waited got more forceful with his insistence. We all got started and Rob choked as the raw alcohol hit his nose after his first mouthful. The Northerner tried both tarts and agreed that although the flambeed one was almost inedible, without the booze mine was pretty boring. For what it is worth I quite liked it and was grateful for the hole it filled, would I order it again? Probably not.

The theme of the pudding is the theme of the review unfortunately. Everything was ‘nice’ but needed to be a little bit better for how much they are charging. I probably won’t go back to The Ivy unless I have a work event or big family do but I have no doubt it will be busy for many years.