Gauthier Soho makes vegan food an event

Photography by Sophia Evans

The restaurant’s small, beautiful, white dining room had about six tables of couples sitting in reverent silence as they stared at perfectly steamed asparagus tips. The atmosphere was sombre, as if they were mourning the passing of a dearly beloved aubergine, and the music was very low. If you strained your ears, you could make out a barely audible Barry White. A whole album of his more downbeat B-sides. I wonder why they chose that? Was he vegan? He didn’t look it. Combined with the stark lighting and minimalist decor, the serenity made everyone feel conspicuous. It was too quiet. Ben said it had the feel of the restaurant at Dignitas, but I liked it, which bodes well for my final hours.

For vegans, a tasting menu is a rarity, because there’s usually only ever one vegan thing on a menu, and it normally involves a turnip. This, then, was a real treat. But I immediately realised that it might have been a mistake. I don’t believe in starters – they’re just a way for restaurants to get more money out of you. But a tasting menu is basically constant starters with no main, each course appetising enough to make you a bit hungrier, but not big enough to satiate that hunger.

We started with some perfect wild garlic arancini balls, served in a small wooden trough of what looked like gravel. I don’t think we were meant to eat the gravel, but you only learn through trial and error. It came with a small cone of lemon fennel soup, which was rather nice, and a teeny tiny cracker with lemon pearls on top.

Then followed our favourite course of the night, a brioche feuilletée with lovage and plant feta. So fantastic to have such a crispy, fluffy brioche made without dairy. That was followed by Vaucluse green asparagus, which came with a blob of semi-frozen mustard that oozed pleasingly when I popped it into my hot gob. Each of the following courses was imaginative and memorable: braised artichoke, rocket dumplings, some more asparagus just to make sure.

Until: the final savoury course of blue cheese onion tartlets, described by the waiter as being topped with a gelatinous layer, which looked as though the chef’s contact lenses had dropped onto it. I don’t think the word gelatinous should ever be used in a food context. I watched Ben chewing and trying to keep his tartlet down. He did, thank God, but it put me off even trying mine, and I considered hurling it out of the window before the waiter returned.

Then it was time for the two dessert courses: a refreshing, novel twist on rhubarb and custard, garlanded with tapioca pearls, followed by a decadent chocolatey thing that’s actual name is too long for my limited word count. Ben had chosen the sommelier wine pairing at £75. Each glass was excellent, but he tired of the waiter’s lengthy explanations. You don’t get that with a pint of Madrí, he said. “This was made in a big metal vat in Yorkshire and tastes of continental-strength lager.”

I went for the non-alcoholic chef and sommelier drinks pairing (£45). As a non-drinker I appreciated this option and wished more restaurants would do it. The first – cucumber, apple and lovage – was tall and clean, how I like my men. But the second – olive, peppercorn, dill and tonic water, brought over in a small tumbler – looked very much like the dehydrated urine of a cab driver after a 14-hour shift. Unfortunately it tasted the same. Very briney. My standout drink was the cold chard and spice tisane. Like Ribena with a pickled onion thrown in, but more drinkable than that makes it sound.

I loved the ethos of this place. The first thing they said to us was that all the food was free of cruelty to animals. I’ve been vegan since January. I did try to go vegan last year, but I couldn’t wean myself off cheese and all the fake ones tasted like Pritt stick. Eventually, I found some cheese slices by Violife that worked a treat when I was craving a cheese sandwich. I no longer crave cheese – I just think it smells faintly of socks.

It was wonderful to find a place that makes an effort to make vegan food a real event, even if it does have the sort of atmosphere that makes you feel the event in question is an airship disaster. Our likeable waiter was enthusiastic about the dishes, but had the manner of a doctor delivering bad news. I kept getting a strong urge to giggle every time he crept over. I started concentrating on looking as normal as possible, like I’m really listening, but what happened was I heard nothing. Like when someone gives me directions, I put so much energy into trying to look like I’m listening that I forget to.

This is not the restaurant for a first date, as you’ll be trapped with them for three whole hours. And it’s not the place to break up with someone either. During which of the 10 courses do you choose to say, “By the way, I don’t think we’re right for each other?” And don’t go starting any long, funny anecdotes: every time you near a punchline the waiter will creep over like Nosferatu and explain where the courgettes were grown.

By this point we both felt like Mr Creosote, but with asparagus rather than wafers, and just wanted the whole thing to end. When we asked for the bill the waiter seemed glad it was all over, too. Which isn’t quite what you want at dinner. That said, it was all beautifully presented and full of flavour – it would be an excellent birthday dinner for vegans or non-vegans alike. I’ll definitely be back to see what they do for their summer menu. I just hope they’ll turn up the music.

Gauthier Soho, 21 Romilly Street, London W1D 5AF (0207 494 3111; info@gauthiersoho.co.uk). Tasting menu, 10 courses for £95, wine pairing £75, non-alcoholic drinks pairing £45