I never met Quentin Crewe, I wish I had; journalist, author, restaurateur and adventurer, all done with the significant disadvantage of being diagnosed with muscular dystrophy as a child.
His second wife was my first cousin once removed, Sue Crewe, née Cavendish. I never met her either but I did go to Quentin’s restaurant in Knightsbridge, Brasserie St Quentin. The leading partner in the enterprise was Lord Rathcavan, another colourful character who died earlier this year, but their young maitre d’ did all the work, Didier Garnier who, understandably, decided to branch out on his own. He opened Le Colombier in Dovehouse (natch) Street in Chelsea in 1998.
From its earliest days it became a favourite. He had French waiters, a really good wine list and a menu that didn’t need to change because it was all so good. Actually I wrote about it almost exactly ten years ago but I digress. I had lunch there on Christmas Day this year and was charmed that Didier was giving members of his family of all ages lunch. It was a bitter sweet occasion as it has so many happy memories and it was my last visit – it closes tomorrow because he cannot renew the lease. A legend bites the dust.
The two greatest restaurateurs towards the end of the last century must be Terence Conran and Jeremy King. The latter has written No Reservation: Lessons from a Life in Restaurants, beguilingly reviewed by Stephen Bayley in the Christmas edition of The Spectator.
“Jeremy King and Chris Corbin opened Le Caprice at 20 Arlington Street on 1 September 1981. After over forty years and an odyssey of opening London’s restaurants including The Ivy, J Sheekey, The Wolseley, The Delaunay, Brasserie Zédel, Colbert and Fischer’s, Jeremy returned to his roots to open Arlington.” (Arlington website) Arlington on the site of Le Caprice, has seating at the bar, both good, but in the evening there is a pianist in close proximity and conversation is impossible. But this is a digression.
I have found or rather remembered a convenient French brasserie to replace Le Colombier – older than all King’s restaurants and almost all Conran’s. It opened in Ebury Street in 1964 and is seemingly unchanged from day one. I used to go from time to time but it slipped off my radar and it must have been twenty years since my last visit until I went for lunch on Sunday. Now I hope to be a regular; it is six minutes from Sloane Square; voilá La Poule au Pot.
I was sorry to hear of the closing of Le Colombier, and will have to look into La Poule au Pot. The bar seating at Arlington works well for dining solo: I sat with my book and had a delicious, unhurried meal (and enjoyed both the music and the fascinating assortment of fellow diners). The service was impeccable, and it all felt rather pleasantly familiar.