Muse

Belgravia, London

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The name is the first of many plays on words. Muse is a Georgian townhouse in a secluded Belgravia mews, the latest chapter in the development of inspirational chef Tom Aikens. Step into the tiny entrance lobby, and be enveloped by the refined domesticity of the place, a refreshing alternative to urban grandiosity. The concept, for such it is, draws its energy from various biographical details of the Aikens story – from youthful tree-climbing to some long-remembered maternal reproof. While the narrative structure may weary those who just want to get on with eating something, one can hardly fault the insistence on distinctiveness – especially when the food is distinguished by such ingenuity. An appetiser of sliced scallop comes with cauliflower and grapes at various stages along the spectrum (from dried to partly hydrated), all lubricated by a horseradish-fired ajo blanco of cashews. Presentation tends towards the surreal: a langoustine appears perched on a twig mounted on a porcelain plinth trowelled with lardo and burnt apple purée. The Indian spice repertoire is mined for a dish of skate with a spinach pakora, a cumin-spiked purple carrot and some pickled fennel. For the main course, a dual serving of beef (a braised nugget of short rib and a roast piece of Denver steak) is robustly accompanied by bone marrow, buttered salsify, puréed turnip, chargrilled onion and chunks of braised tongue. Our pre-Christmas visit was sparkled up by a pre-dessert of white chocolate variations, including a pure white bombe filled with mincemeat – a more enjoyable assemblage than the following torched apple-meringue tart and matching millefeuille with a caramel ice-cream sandwich. The opening price point on the wine list is as high as a Belgravian elephant's eye, but quality is of course very fine, and the tasting selections are worth the extra – after all, this is one of the district's more characterful dining spots.