Closure of the Ledbury is a culinary catastrophe

Just when the fine dining fraternity thought after months of gloom, there were some glimmers of hope for the future, there was a shock announcement. While many London restaurants were talking of tentative re-openings in the Summer or outdoor dining, the Ledbury chose this moment to lay off its staff and go into, if not actual closure, indefinite hibernation. I have trouble actually taking this in. When I reflect on all of the meals I have consumed in the past decade at the most renowned restaurants on every continent, I certainly had the most pleasure from the many hours I spent at The Ledbury. I appreciate that in the sum of things, there are currently more profound issues to be shocked about, but for devotees of haute cuisine, game and fine wine, this is about as bad as it gets.

Chef-owner Brett Graham told me that it was simply not viable to re-open at this stage, given that nearly two thirds of his diners are either over 50 or from abroad. Social distancing would also prove impossible even if reduced to a metre – how do you serve someone a plate of food without being less than three feet from them? And then, there’s the tiny kitchen space and the narrow stairs to the single occupancy male and female lavatories. But I suspect it’s not just the technicalities, it’s the way such a tip toe approach to serving food and wine would destroy the entire atmosphere of the place.

For the past decade, this former pub on the perimeter of Notting Hill has been the first destination for Britain’s – and the world’s – most knowledgeable chefs and oenophiles. Australian-born Brett Graham gained his first Michelin star here in his mid-twenties and has since doubled that number and clinched most other awards, including being in the top ten of the Worlds 50 Best Restaurant ratings and twice winning the British National Restaurant Award. Even if you ignore the accolades and the peerless cooking, what made it so memorable was the sheer enjoyment of eating there and service that was genuinely friendly and unfussy. It was not just over weight gourmands or City Grandees or even former Prime Ministers, but young lovers on their first serious date or giggling Japanese girls photographing every dish. So many luncheon guests lingered over a second or third bottle of wine, that there an unwritten rule that they had to leave by 6pm so staff could prepare for the evening service. In my own case, I live within minutes of the front door, so it also qualifies as my “local”. This proximity meant I occasionally had friends to stay from abroad who were booked in for dinner and lunch the following day.

It is interesting to reflect on how some outstanding chefs take some time to find their culinary feet, so that a review in the first few weeks, can fail to spot future greatness. I have been guilty of this myself, having eaten at Raymond Blanc’s very first restaurant in North Oxford more than 40 years ago and being favourably impressed but in no way clocking him for the talent he became. I could say the same thing about Brett Graham – my first few meals after it opened in 2005 were certainly excellent, but no more so than a handful of other places in London. It was only by 2009 that word spread about his skill, especially in dealing with simple products like mackerel or venison and creating iconic dishes such as flame-grilled mackerel with smoked eel and shiso or roe deer flamed in pine needles. And then there was that slightly obscene sausage-shaped crapaudine (beetroot) cooked in artists clay and bone marrow.

In those relatively early days, when lunch reservations were rarely full, the Ledbury became a haven for wine lovers as Brett would allow free corkage and then cook dishes he deemed appropriate for whatever the wine theme happened to be – bottles of 1990 vintage Burgundy or a vertical flight of a grand Pomerol like Chateau La Conseillante.  And then there is Brett’s obsession with hunting. He regularly shoots deer and grouse on various grand estates. He has taken this interest to a further stage, and is the first person to gain permission to import from the white deer herd owned by the Danish Royal family. He now has more than 70 at Aynhoe Park in Northamptonshire, along with two other herds – 120 Fallow Deer from Petworth in Sussex plus 100 Sika deer, which are kept at the Duke of Buccleuch’s estate at Boughton House in Northamptonshire. Last year he sold 15 tons of venison to various leading restaurants and is now turning his attention to Spain. Twenty-two Iberican pigs from Huelva are arriving next week, which will be the first herd of this famous species to be imported into Britain. The aim is to breed them for meat as well as begin curing their hind quarters for a British version of Iberico ham.

You never quite knew what would turn up on your plate. At my last meal there a few months back, we were served Grilled River Teign Oyster with smoked butter and sea purslane. They were monsters, somewhere around eight inches long with an intense maritime flavour and the texture of foie gras. Or when I bumped into him one night after a day’s hunting and he promptly pulled out three deer hearts from his bag and advised me on how to cook them at home.

Brett is at pains to point out that he has paid all of his staff and suppliers in full and is even meeting next month’s quarterly rent payment. As much as he hated having to take these measures, Brett believes it was the only honest grown up thing to do. He intends to spend the next few months working with his suppliers to improve their quality as well as selling his raw produce online. We certainly haven’t seen the last of this immensely talented, charismatic chef but whether he returns to The Ledbury, is something that is still in the balance. Scientists were always telling us that the flapping wings of a butterfly in New Mexico could eventually lead to a hurricane in China. How ironic then, that the consumption of a bat in a Wuhan market has ultimately closed one of the most loved restaurants in Britain…