Morgan M

On Sunday we paid our eagerly anticipated family visit to Morgan M, to celebrate my birthday last Thursday and my mum's birthday earlier in the week.

We chose this nearby restaurant partly because of the excellent training pedigree of proprietor/head chef Morgan Meunier and partly so my dad could convince me that the French really can cook food without going to the extremes of invisible cuisine nouvelle or excessively rich cuisine bourgeois.

It took some doing, I can tell you, to get this non-conformist trainee chef to sit beneath two shelf-loads of Michelin Guides Rouges. But boy am I glad I did so.

We were surprised to find the restaurant was almost empty at what should be a busy time of week.

The website describes it as having an "uncluttered and relaxed atmosphere where tables are not turned and guests are encouraged to enjoy food and surroundings... non smoking... mobile free... child friendly Sunday lunch.

This was all true enough, although it did make me idly wonder if the remainder of the week was child unfriendly.

Service was attentive, to the point where dad was embarrassed to get the camera out at first. But he needn't have worried because, when it came to the traditional family album snap, the waiter cheerfully obliged.

The starter menu of pumpkin and rosemary soup, a ravioli of snail, two foie gras plates and a dish of seared scallops gave dad a problem, as every dish contained a source of gluten. A brief exchange addressed his coeliac diet requirement, without the usual waiter's response: "I'll have to ask chef".

Main courses included a choice of a fish dish, a seafood dish, a duck prepared two ways and seasonal plates of roast venison and partridge.

The five of us chose four different dishes between us, and we all thoroughly enjoyed our meals.

By the time it came to the dessert menu we were all well satiated, but the selection on offer soon revived our appetites.

Top of the list was a chocolate moelleux with a milk sorbet and armagnac (it's a shame they felt the need to offer a 45% cocoa alternative to the 70% Valrhona Guanaja to suit English sweet tastes.)

Other options were a fig tart with lemon thyme ice cream and tuille (see picture above), a soufflé and a brioche.

I opted for the pineapple soufflé with coconut sorbet on a tuille. When it arrived at the table I was simply amazed...

My dad had said nothing when booking the table, but someone in front of house had paid attention to our raised glasses and birthday cheers over the starters, and told chef. A really nice touch that was much appreciated.

All in all, the meal was excellent and even better than food I've eaten in a 2* Michelin restaurant.

Chatting briefly to Chef over the coffee afterwards, Morgan confirmed the secret behind the mouth-tingling separation of flavours that characterised each dish. It was, of course, no secret. "We prepare every component separately", he told us, "and only bring them together at the plate at the last possible moment." Of course. How foolish of my father to ask.

I left with the sincere hope that Morgan Meunier does well but, if I'm honest, I do fear that he may run into trouble. A large part of the problem is that his restaurant is located at the wrong end of Islington, a mile or more from the bustling restaurant scene around The Angel.

The food at Morgan M is, without doubt, deserving of listing by Michelin. This would help justify the prices and attract more custom, thereby making it more profitable. But I observed many small details that were incorrect and were just the sort of thing that food guide inspectors are prone to notice.

The waiter served both the food and wine from the wrong sides, for example, and at one stage leaned across my brother to pour wine for my dad. I don't personally give a monkey's about such formalities, but I think the inspectors probably do.

It shouldn't be necessary to ask for an obvious source of gluten to be removed from one dish after having declared coeliac status earlier on. And some effort to locate and eradicate the source of a large number of pestilent fruit flies would help the ambience. So would a decor makeover. One thing we all commented on was the selection of amuse-bouches. Not that we had any trouble consuming them, with the exception of brother Joel who found the horseradish in one a little too strong. The problem was that they weren't really amuse-bouches in the sense of single-flavour palate cleansers. These delicious morsels were more like dishes from a sampling menu (light vanilla rice pudding, for instance). A case of Morgan and his team trying too hard.

But these are relatively minor criticisms. If you are in North London and looking for somewhere quiet for a great meal, I thoroughly recommend that you visit Morgan Meunier's. Oh yes, this Frenchman sure can cook!

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Scrolling through the press reviewer’s lexicon of superlatives on Morgan M’s web site it is evident that Morgan Meunier is beloved of ‘them that know’. For the record, Morgan Meunier has won everything from Michelin Stars to Carlton London Restaurant Awards so the expectations were high.  Morgan also boldly declares on his website that “only when a guest touched by the spirit of my dishes have I succeeded” and you quickly realise that this is no empty promise.

From its location at the scruffier end of Islington to the warm wood panels and burgundy walls hung with Morgan’s own paintings, taking a meal at Morgan M is a journey of re-appraisals that starts with the fingering of the cutlery and goes on as you get stuck into the menu choices.

Well, it’s two choices really because, although Morgan M offers an à la carte menu, it’s for the seasonally changing six-course set menus that it’s best known.  In choosing the Spring tasting menu, the experience declared intent from the first course, a meticulously prepared chilled cream of Broad Bean with Horseradish Foam.  Of the multitude of excellent dishes that followed, there were a number of highlights.

The perfectly simple seared yellow fin tuna was cleverly accompanied by provencale vegetables, tapenadeen, red pepper and basil sorbet, allowing me to experiment with a myriad of different flavour combinations. Mr Gandhi’s delicacy of moist, tender pink hued rabbit & mustard which, with wild garlic froth, olives, steamed gnochhi & courgette, dispelled completely any idea of gamey casserole fare.  This was followed by the intense fruit burst of the Orange Tuile pre-dessert which exorcised our junior school memories of rice pudding.  My dessert of Souffle and Lemon Verbena delivered a final piece of subtle theatre with a Red Fruit Coulis. This final flourish was only upstaged by the bemusement of Mr Gandhi as he tried to work out what he was supposed to do with Morgan’s signature Armangnac drink that came with the sumptuous Dark Chocolate Moelleux. Delicious but confusing.

We had taken the option of the wines flight and found the matching to be as equally crisp as the rest of the performance. Stand-outs were the Ochoa Gran Reserva with a heavy, wonderfully fruity nose, promising a serious full body but delivering light and delicate flavour, followed by a simply brilliant dessert wine finish to the meal with the unexpected gentle fizz of the chilled Moscato D’Asti

The final surprise was the true value for money that an evening of this quality gives; or, given the spirit of the place, maybe that’s no real a surprise at all.  A complete performance and accessible experience delivered by an artist who is thoroughly at ease with his craft.  In final analysis, that Mr Gandhi, renowned of short arms and low pockets, should declare he would gladly pay out for a repeat visit probably says as much about the quality of experience as the glowing press reviews. In that sense at least, Morgan’s dishes certainly seemed to have touched his spirit.

Food: 4.5/5
Venue: 4/5
Value: 4/5

Check out my site at lovefoodlovedrink.com

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Firstly, a disclaimer. I didn't pay for this meal. I met up with the lady who does PR for Morgan M, and we had a little chat about food blogging and social media. I guess you could say I was giving her some advice; while I'm not an expert, I know a bit about it and I'm on it enough to be able to be of some help. So when she asked if I'd like to review the restaurant, I said yes, as the restaurant has been on my wish list for some time, since I'd first heard it recommended heartily on the BBC Food Messageboard.

On a balmy summer's evening, we had a cheeky drink before trekking down Liverpool Road. The area became more and more suburban, and we wondered whether we had taken a wrong turning. We hadn't, and I was surprised by how unassuming the restaurant front was. Upon entering, it was very hushed. The dining room was small, and there was only one or two other tables occupied. The restaurant soon filled up as the evening went on. There is definitely a green theme throughout; the menu was green, as was the seating and a couple of walls. We were advised to get the tasting menu.

After some delicious bread, we started off with gazpacho, with a tomato and olive oil sorbet. I was a bit nervous about this, as I've recently discovered that I don't like gazpacho. I've had it several times before and even tested a gazpacho recipe, but if you'll excuse the pun, it leaves me a bit cold. This one was different though. Rich, with an almost creamy feel to it, it left me wanting more. The sorbet had a decent olive oil flavour to it and I was sad when it was finished.

The tasting menu had separate options to choose from, and I chose the scallop tartare three ways. On the left hand side the basil sorbet that adorned the scallop tartare was wonderfully herby. The middle pile hiding under the leaves sat upon a romanesco-style sauce, and the far right had more of that tomato sorbet, with the tartare itself mixed with a little diced mango and cucumber. The tapenade dribbled down the sides added a welcome salty hit. Of the meal, I felt that this was the least successful dish. Although visually stunning, the delicate sweetness of the scallop was a bit lost and the dish would have benifitted from a stronger flavoured fish.

My least favourite dish of the meal was followed by the best of the evening; red mullet with razor clams, fennel pureé and a saffron foam. When it was first placed in front of me, my heart skipped a beat and I thought it was a slab of belly tuna. My eyesight isn't great. The red mullet, though not crispy skinned, was perfectly cooked and melted in the mouth. The saffron foam was in no way bird-spit-like, as some foams can turn out to be, but was flavoursome and highlighted the freshness of the fish. I wanted a big trough of this. Razor clams with diced tomatoes gave a pleasing texture contrast and fennel pureé added a luxuriousness to the dish. Lovely stuff.

For my next choice, I went for rabbit with mustard, steamed gnocchi and courgette in a parsley sauce. This arrived without the sauce, which was then poured over the dish tableside. I'm not sure what this contributed, but I was excited by the little rabbit chops. They were so weeny! The gnocchi was light as a feather, which isn't something you experience every day as it has such a tendency to be a complete stodge-fest. Under the saddle of rabbit was spinach, which hid a cake of rabbit meat mixed with wholegrain mustard. Some consider courgettes to be a rather dull vegetable, but here, steamed provided a light contrast to what was otherwise a rich dish. The rolled rabbit meat on top of the tower were delicious and full of flavour but if anything, the rabbit and mustard meat underneath could have done with a lighter hand with the salt. Otherwise it was a very satisfying dish. I gnawed those little bones dry of the succulent meat.

By this point, I was feeling pretty full. I had a quick look at the menu, and hoped that the 'Light Vanilla Rice Pudding' would be true to it's name. I had horrible visions of a big bowl of steaming rice in a creamy sauce, and I breathed a sigh of relief when this was set before me. The rice pudding is nestled inside the orange scented tuile, with a passionfruit sorbet and sauce providing an ample tang to contrast the sweet vanilla. The perfect prelude to the apricot soufflé to follow.

The soufflé had risen perfectly, which I'm sure anyone who cooks (and even if you don't) knows that this is no easy feat. I've had many a lopsided soufflé but there was no hint of a sag here. The soufflé was cut into by our server, and a coulis of apricot poured inside it. This was delicious; beautifully light and foamy inside. To accompany was a rosemary ice cream. I've never tried rosemary ice cream, but I think I'll try making some at home as it was very moreish. I really loved all the crockery the food immaculately was served on. The plates with the matte cocentric circles were so pretty, it almost drove me to kleptomania. If only I could fit one in my handbag.

We had a good go at some pretty little petit fours, but were too stuffed to finish them off. Service was proficient if a little cold, but Morgan Meunier came and had a quick chat with us which was a pleasant surprise; he seemed like a very nice man and answered my inane question graciously.

While the food wasn't earth shattering, I came away feeling really well looked after, as if I'd been wrapped up in cotton wool and given a big hug simultaneously. The red mullet was a stand-out dish, and showed that they really know what they're doing in the kitchen. As we left we did wonder why it had been over-looked by Michelin; lack of amuses? Its suburban location? Whatever; it's worth the trip.

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Morgan M restaurant is a place we’ve run by for months, and we figured it was date night, so why not try the local fancy place? We’re glad we did.

I loved that the chef visited every table and chatted with customers. It’s that kind of small, warm restaurant.

The room is a lot of anonymous blond wood, but overall, it’s inviting enough. What brings people to Morgan M is the food, which we thought was delicious, overall.

The first amuse bouche was this horseradish/beet puree in a deep purple color, poured into a bowl with a dollop of chocolate sauce and whipped cream. When you ate it together, it was sweet, creamy and tangy all in one. Surprisingly (because I don’t like beets very much) good.

My ballotine of foie gras appetizer was OK - a little bit too gelatinous to get me excited. I think the only time I have truly loved foie gras was when it was seared at the Fat Duck. There, it had the texture and creaminess of a really meaty tofu. Not that the Fat Duck was otherwise worth the money, in my opinion.

Jon’s escargot ravioli were huge and lumpy. He loved them. I, however, could never bring myself to eat them. I kept thinking about all those slimy little creatures, clumped together and barely hidden by the pasta skin. There’s a voice in my head that screams: The slime! The slime!

My main course of duck was just slightly overcooked - pink in the middle but from the texture and feel of the duck, I thought it’d been sitting under a heat lamp a little too long. Still, the duck was savoury and juicy, and Jon was happy with his sea bass. Both of our main courses were served with puy lentils, which didn’t strike me as anything you really had to brag about, but the restaurant did. I mean, even if they’re special lentils, they’re still just lentils, so could they really be that rare and/or expensive?

The dessert/cheese course was a highlight. Jon and I had a table with a great view of the cheese course, and I have a feeling we spent the whole night “getting through” the other courses to get to the cheese. Jon ordered the cheese course and I went with a valrhona chocolate cake with a molten center, which was hot, spongy and creamy in the middle, and of course very chocolatey. But the dessert is served everywhere now such that the best you can do is say “that was well done,” which it was. I mean, there are lots of these that come out awful - sometimes like a brownie from a plastic wrapper.

The cheese cart was a lot of fun. Jon went to town and we tried eight or nine different cheeses. Our server was generous and recommended two aged goat cheeses that we should have written down the name of, but we didn’t. Eaten with walnuts, fig spread and multi-grain bread (so good this bread - crisp crust, nutty, dense crumb!) good cheese can’t go wrong. Even Jon had to admit the French are clearly the masters of cheese.

The three-course prix fixe was £34 per person, and Jon’s cheese course was a £7.50 supplement. So even with tip and a bottle of decent red, our total was just over £110. A good price for the style and quality of food.

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Morgan M (after the chef Morgan Meunier) is situated in a desolate part of North London that has been optimistically labelled “Islington” when it is very clearly a dodgy bit of Holloway (first clue: nearest tube Holloway, second clue the postcode). The number of police sirens coming past made you feel as if you were in an episode of Miami Vice, and when we came into the restaurant we were advised to move our car from just around the corner on to the main road, as there had been “problems” with cars parked in the quiet street next to the restaurant; we are not talking about parking tickets here either. It is an unlikely setting for a serious restaurant, but I guess the rent is cheap. Morgan came to the UK under Max Renzland and cooked at Monsieur Max for four years before moving to Admiralty. Max has a gift for picking out talented chefs (cf Bruce Poole) and this ability showed up in much of the cooking this evening.

The room itself is unprepossessing, with bare wooden floors, plain white walls (apart from opposite sections that are, rather oddly painted green – see diagram) and ceilings, and no distracting music (the bare boards ensure it is noisy enough). Lighting is pleasantly bright, from overhead ceiling spots. On the walls there is a wood-framed mirror on one side and two shelves of Michelin Guides on the opposite wall (a none-too subtle hint). Otherwise the decoration is restricted to several pieces of art, a couple of which one would describe as abstract landscapes; the eagle-eyed will recognise the signature on the paintings as Morgan’s own. Chairs are much too narrow, low backed wooden chairs with green upholstery that are uncomfortable unless you are a dwarf. Windows surround the front of the building (top of the diagram) and these are frosted at the bottom, clear at the top, with white blinds. A reasonable amount of natural light comes through. Tables have white linen tablecloths and napkins, and crockery is plain white. The cutlery is an unusual style from Robert Welch. The tables are uncluttered and indeed are not that large, with no distractions like flowers, candles or condiments.

The wine list is entirely French except for a lonely bottle of Rioja, and I have to say that the prices are steep but the choice of growers and balance of the list leaves something to be desired. This is a long, eight page list only from France, yet there is just one wine from Alsace, a Gewürztraminer from an obscure grower. There is very little under £30 (just five whites and seven reds) with the cheapest white at £19 and the cheapest red at £18. There are three white and three red wines by the glass (and three dessert wines) with either obscure growers, or good ones that are very costly e.g. Mas de Daumas Gassac white and red is a chunky £54 while Ramonet 1997 Chassagne Montrachet is £180. A wine list this expensive could at least spell the best dessert wine in the world correctly: “Chateau Yquen” is just careless. Water is Hildon at £3.50 for a 75cl bottle.

Waiters are smartly dressed in dark suits and ties, with the solitary waitress in a nice black suit with a red tie. Service was very good, attentive and friendly. Our dishes arrived at a steady pace, though the people at the next table were getting restless. Three types of bread are offered: classic baguette slices, or slices of either soda bread or multigrain. The baguette was ordinary, but the other two breads were excellent, with a nice crust, good seasoning and flavour and fluffy texture; they are actually bought in, but you could easily think they were made on the premises. 7/10 for the multi-grain bread, 6/10 for the soda bread and 3/10 for the baguette. The menu is enclosed; you will see that it has very few choices, though there is a complete vegetarian menu (though you cannot have a dish from one of the tasting menus if you are ordering a la carte, which seems unnecessarily restrictive). Mr Meunier has a very French style of writing. On the menu is printed a line which is beyond parody: “Only when a guest is touched by the spirit of my dishes have I succeeded – Morgan M”. Maybe this works in “Islington”, but don’t try this in Yorkshire.

An amuse guele was rather odd: a blob of crème fraiche laced with horseradish on a smear of balsamic vinegar and topped with finely-cut chives, around which was poured a warm beetroot sauce. This lacked any real substance to get one’s teeth into, so was an odd conception, though the sauce itself was fair though a little over-acidic (3/10). A ballontine of foie gras was a tasty cylinder, the ballontine silky smooth and topped with a little Sauternes jelly, the liver taste coming through well but not as intensely as the very finest examples of this dish. Served alongside was a leg of tender quail, grilled but still pink inside and resting on some strands of what were essentially noodles which turned out to be made of celeriac. This is an excellent example of kitchen over-technique. The strands were cut so fine that I would challenge anyone to identify them; even such a strong and distinct flavour as celeriac was entirely lost. A correctly-toasted slice of brioche (which could have been warmer) was served with the ballontine, which had a smear of rather superfluous “fig caviar” next to it. Overall 6/10, as the quail and foie gras itself were pretty much 7/10. but the tasteless celeriac deserves to be punished.

Stella had four grilled langoustines served with an aubergine and red pepper caviar. This was accompanied by a salad of herbs without dressing, and a “shellfish cappuccino” i.e. sauce, that had good flavour. The langoustines themselves were cold, yet were cooked in their shells extremely well; they tasted fresh and had a delicate flavour. The “caviar” of vegetables worked well, bringing an earthy contrast to the shellfish, and the salad lightened the dish. The components here worked well together (7/10). A squab from Anjou was cooked carefully, the pigeon grilled perhaps a little longer than was strictly necessary though still tender, served on a bed of excellent puy lentils. These rested in a smear of “soubise sauce” i.e. an onion sauce that was capably made. However braised lettuce was disappointingly soggy, while a decorative slice of fried “pomme anna” seemed just irrelevant (6/10). Turbot was fresh and timed well, but was topped with a rather hard raviolo of crayfish. Moreover a few small crayfish as garnish were distinctly chewy. A puree of celeriac was smooth and at least did taste of celeriac, while a champagne veloute was light and worked well with the turbot. The fish rested on a bed of delicate spinach. The fish itself was excellent, perhaps 7/10, but the hard pasta and rubbery crayfish bring this down to at most 5/10.

A limited selection from the nearby La Fromagerie is displayed on a board, just nine cheeses this evening. St Maure was not at its peak but still in reasonable condition, while Mont d’Or was suitably creamy, St Nectaire was not quite ripe and Epoisses was very young. Pont l’Eveque was in better condition. With a limited choice and a good supplier I felt that these cheeses could have been closer to peak condition (4/10 for the cheese). No biscuits or bread were offered, which was rather odd, but they brought bread after I requested it. A pre-dessert was a rice pudding made with Tahitian vanilla served in a cylindrical orange tuile surrounded by raspberry coulis, topped with a raspberry sorbet and garnished with a sliver of vanilla pod. The sorbet had excellent texture and flavour, and the vanilla flavour came through well in the rice pudding (5/10).

Raspberry soufflé was very well made, even in appearance and fluffy inside, served with a strawberry coulis and a smooth rhubarb and Jurancon ice cream, garnished with a slice of strawberry. The only criticism could be that it seems odd to mix the strawberry flavour with the raspberry soufflé, perhaps one effect too many. However the execution of the dish was excellent (7/10). I had an orange tarte served with an orange and vanilla sauce. The tart had good pastry while the filling had reasonable orange flavour, but could have been a little more acidic for my liking. It came across a little too creamy, although the sauce was good. A capable chocolate ice cream was served on a tuile and actually was made with a little honey, decorated with a triangular wafer of marbled dark chocolate. The ice cream in itself had good texture but I am not sure that such a creamy ice-cream made sense with the creamy filling of the tarte, and Stella perceptively noted that a chocolate sorbet would have worked better, in order to reduce the overall richness (6/10).

Filter coffee was pleasant, as was espresso, though the beans used here were good rather than top class (5/10). Petit fours included an orange jelly that was unrecognisable as orange other than its colour, a competent shortbread biscuit, a good white chocolate coated with coconut, a dark chocolate, a slightly too crisp tuile and a very capable raspberry tart. These were variable but 6/10 overall would seem fair.

In summary, I was impressed overall by the standard of cooking this evening. There were blemishes e.g. the chewy crayfish and the tasteless celeriac noodles, but generally the kitchen showed good technique, while ingredients were excellent. One lingering issue from the chef’s days at Monsieur Max is the tendency to want to add too many components to the dish, which even if they are each well made can make the dish confusing: Morgan seems to have forgotten his early training at Michel Guerard, who is a master of understatement and simplicity. Nonetheless, the restaurant is cooking at 6/10 level, and would compare well to some other places at this level in London. I think he has the potential to go up a notch, though it will interesting to see whether he can iron out the odd slips in the cooking that occurred tonight.

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