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Telegraph
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
‘It's such a calamity, can it really be Tom Kerridge's pub?': William Sitwell reviews The Chalk, London
Lunch at The Chalk is such a baffling, head-scratching, misfitting, misfiring calamity that I ask myself: is this really from Tom Kerridge? One of the most familiar nice guys of Britain's food scene, a man famous for his pubs and for cooking pub grub in his countless books and TV shows. He's even there on the day of my lunch; we chat on the stairs. Yet to dine at his new pub is as odd as watching the President address Nato in a suit with his underpants on top. Two years ago, the site opened as The Butcher's Tap and Grill (sister restaurant to one of the same name in Marlow, where Kerridge has four establishments), a handsome Victorian corner pub on a quiet street off King's Road. It didn't sit comfortably in Chelsea, however, and closed in June 2025. Then, just weeks later, it reopened more or less exactly the same, like a Tommy Cooper trick that doesn't work, but without being funny. It has a new name, The Chalk, a new chalky-white exterior, a new chef (Tom De Keyser, who commanded the stove at Kerridge's most famous Marlow pub, The Hand and Flowers), none of the plague of horrid tellies, but still with the shiny cream and brown tiles inside – and still looking like a fabricated pub one might find at an airport (more Gatwick North than Heathrow T5 at that). Perhaps The Chalk might work in the transitory netherworld of an airport, since its British menu is a seasonal aberration. The main courses on my midsummer visit were beef brisket, lamb shoulder, confit duck leg, ricotta dumplings… you get the picture. We 'snacked' by sharing a sausage roll but not one with soft, flaky pastry. Instead it had a solid crust and was overpowered by spicy 'nduja. It held nothing to a simple sausage roll. Similarly, a cheese and onion scone, which came hiding under a mountain of grated cheese, with mustard and herb butter, might have been better without the cheese, onion, mustard, herbs and grated snowy hill… On to starters proper: baked saffron rice with oxtail and red-wine grilled marrow, which tasted even worse than it sounds. Under painterly white lines of something (mayo?) came rice, looking like it had been left in the sun for three weeks, whose flavour of saffron was more taint than taste, and lord knows where the marrow was – hidden, ashamed maybe. The other starter was a chicken and duck liver parfait, magnificent on its own. Yet it came under a blanket of chutney so you couldn't avoid its sweet jamminess, and with an upright slice of toasted brioche behind it styled like a mini throne – OK, a lavatory, with the bowl played by the parfait and the open seat the toast. The brioche was burnt, rendered hard and dark, not soft and barely touched by the grill. Mains were spiced beef brisket with pickled beetroot, and a pork schnitzel with a fried egg on top in rich gravy. The pork was very salty (slugs of quenching water were, regrettably, tarnished by the glasses smelling like a dog bowl) and like the hearty beef brisket it yearned for a rainstorm, or a heave of snow outside, to lend it some relevance. A side of creamed spinach was simply awful, like some cooked-up frozen offer that tastes like stained, soaked paper, but the buttery mash was fab. We ended with a slice of chocolate tart accompanied by a miserable excuse for crème fraîche – just a squiggled line on top. That the waiter knocked beer all over my pal Carlo felt like a triumph among this litany of disappointments. I'm afraid like most chalk, this just needs rubbing out.
Times
14-05-2025
- General
- Times
Michel Roux's five favourite London pubs — and what to order
I do love a good pub, and you know one the moment you walk in. It will have that lovely warmth and sociable feel to it, which comes not just from the owners and bar staff but the other customers too. You immediately feel at ease with yourself and with the world. I look out for a good local beer, from an independent brewery if possible, and a menu of good comforting food — pub grub for want of a better word. It doesn't have to be Michelin-starred — although there are now a few very good ones — but it does have to take pride and care in what it serves. Here are my favourites in London. One of the originals. Beautifully positioned on
