Ostensibly an homage to historical British cuisine, Heston Blumenthal and his long-time collaborator Ashley Palmer-Watts have crafted a luxurious restaurant for high rollers, special-occasion diners and
those who simply must tick "meat fruit" off their bucket list. Dinner is grand and glorious with windows framing the city, a glassed-in kitchen that's like a choreographed theatre with actors in crisp white costumes and pineapples twirling on a rôtisserie (they're for the famous Tipsy Cake, a syrup-sodden brioche). The heritage of the dishes is referenced, but a history degree is not necessary to appreciate the meticulous cooking and plating. The 10-course parade is bookended by the meat fruit – the rich, smooth chicken liver pâté crafted to look like a mandarin – and the ice-cream trolley, a tableside factory that employs liquid nitrogen. Along the way, perhaps roasted fish with a sauce of parsley, pepper and eucalyptus, duck with its heart (coyly called "umbles" on the menu) or a monolithic steak with shatter-crisp triple-cooked chips. Service is polished and droll. Dinner is fun as well as formal, not least because the wine list – ably food-matched by sommelier Loic Avril – is among the city's best.