The Jugged Hare - review

Gastro excess is order of the day at the Martin brothers' latest venture in EC1
Country club: a tweedily dressed barman pours Jugged Hare pale ale, to be served with Scotch eggs and croquettes
Fay Maschler22 July 2014

Hannah Glasse never did begin her recipe for jugged hare in The Art of Cookery (first published 1747) by saying, “First catch your hare”. It’s actually the sort of thing you expect some spiky-haired forager chef these days to shout out. But Hannah — and sometimes it is Mrs Beeton — has been stuck with the story.

The non-instruction is invoked in the publicity for Tom and Ed Martin’s 10th gastropub located close to another they own — the Chiswell Street Dining Rooms — in what was, at the time of Hannah Glasse, the Whitbread Brewery, now a listed building. Hare (back on sale on August 1) will feature on the menu and the designer seems to have been channelling artist Polly Morgan in the use of mounted heads of game, including some bug-eyed long-eared lollopers, plus taxidermists’ birds in glass cases.

When we visited last week a miasma of cooking fumes emanating from the open kitchen with its grill and rotisserie hung in the air. Extraction/air conditioning turned up high removed it but left the dining room distinctly chilly, as chilly as the pursed-lipped receptionist who looked up fleetingly from the reservations book then flounced away to “check if your table is ready”. It was.

How do you fit as much seating as possible into a defined space? One way is to make the tables very narrow. But they have to hold the various dishes, here served on wooden boards, on slates — let’s close the quarries, said Reg — in pots, in cocottes, so they must also be deep. Chatting to my husband, receding faintly into the smoky distance, was a problem I resolved by becoming diverted by the talk on either side.

I became convinced that the couple on my left were on one of those Blind Dates that feature in the Guardian Saturday magazine and kept willing them to stop messaging, put down their phones and give each other at least eight out of 10. On my right I gradually became aware — because eventually they said so — that the two vaguely familiar faces were fellow passengers from a cancelled BA flight that stranded us in Athens a few years ago. Reg talked to him, I talked to her and that way the evening passed merrily. Apparently they had complained about the distance between them that the table imposed.

The slightly laboriously on-trend menu, including sections entitled From the Rotisserie, From the Grill, Billingsgate and Dishes, also lists items “In Season”. Well, grown in sheds or polytunnels, I suppose you could argue that Jersey Royals and English asparagus (two on the list), are in season but when that is unnaturally stretched, it traduces the otherwise likeable notion and the list becomes a gimmicky nod towards ingredient awareness — reinforced by the inclusion of “wild nettles”.

A first course of spring pea, broad bean, radish and dandelion salad with goat’s cheese and walnuts was more convincing evidence of timeliness — and a lovely response to the weather — but the first two items must surely have been imported unless the early sunshine is working miracles. It was good to see fisherman’s perk skate knobs on the menu, here breaded and served with tartare sauce.

“On the Spit” that day was milk-fed Herdwick lamb leg. The large slices of tough meat in gravy must have come from a sheep version of one of those mothers who insist on breastfeeding until their child is four. I wished I had opted for Yorkshire wood pigeon with lentils. Pot-roasting is a cooking method usually applied to meat that needs to be rendered tender. Quails can just be smacked in a pan or slid under the grill, so it was an odd, and not wholly successful, idea to cook them in a covered casserole with bacon, mushrooms and potatoes. The £18 price did deliver two birds. Parsnip and garlic gratin was a delicious side order.

Rather greedily, sauces and accompaniments for the grills are priced separately, so if you want Béarnaise with the rib-eye it is £2 on top of £27 or Applewood smoked cheddar with the White Park beefburger, it is £2 on top of £17.

For dessert we shared breakfast bread and butter pudding with vanilla ice cream, which displayed the Mosimann (as in Anton OBE, the chef) fallacy of being too light and moussey. In retrospect, lemon junket with blood orange jelly seems much more appealing.

As gastropubs go, The Jugged Hare is admirably effortful and staffed in the main by people who seem keen for customers to enjoy themselves. The attention to detail extends to the wine list, which includes quite a wide choice of magnums — always an encouraging sign — and a fine wine dispenser enabling ambitious, explorative drinking by the glass. My new friend and table neighbour, Karen the tax lawyer, said she would definitely be back, probably before or after an event at the Barbican. I think I’ll just wait for the Martin brothers’ 11th.

49 Chiswell Street, EC1 (020 7614 0134). Mon-Sat noon-3.30pm (4pm Sat) & 6pm-11pm. Sun noon-10pm. A meal for two with wine, about £110 including 12.5 per cent service.

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