The Harwood Arms | Waitrose review

Here's an outrageous generalisation about Fulham. You remember the film Notting Hill? Well it should have been called Fulham, because that's where people like that really live. You know, stuttering toffs who don't know how to talk to women, stuttering toffs who rent rooms to rank Welshmen who have no dress sense and can't take phone messages. Before you start putting outraged pen to paper, of course, Fulham is also crammed full of very decent people and some pretty decent places to eat as well. Take The Harwood Arms, for example. Tastefully decorated, it has a style that merits the use of the following words: 'hessian', 'soft wood', 'linen napkins', and 'banquettes', with 'upbeat', ‘Australian', 'pretty', 'unbelievably' and 'waitress' adding to the fun. All in all, it's a smart, countryish type of town pub with an accessible menu and a fun-loving wine list filled with long, enthusiastic descriptions. As to the food, well it's certainly worth beating a path through the swathes of red-corduroy- bedecked Sloaney boys who live in this neck of the woods to get to it. And here's why. The Harwood Arms follows the spirit and tune of the seasons; they are like perfectly entwined lovers, complementing one another, bringing out each other's strengths with great sympathy. It's quite unlike some restaurants, whose nod to Mother Nature is as clunky as]ohn Sergeant's ballroom trysts with his dancing partner, but without the heroism. So, in autumn, the menu sings out with dishes such as pheasant kiev with champ and turnips. For spring there is roast wood pigeon with oatcakes, bacon and broad beans, and come summer they'll serve York ham with nasturtium flowers. On my visit I was in a 'my body is a temple' mood, which is the sort of thing Sloanes say, so I ate fish. But not before gobbling my way, with my guest, through a plate of ham, brawn, rabbit and real mince pies - admittedly more of a 'my body is a farmyard' kind of starter. It was a real treat: the ham, scented with the Cumbrian air in which it was dried; the rabbit, soft and flavoursome; each mince pie a savoury, beefy, spiced time-machine of a pie. Shut your eyes and you could almost hear an 18th-century highwayman demanding your money. The fish - breaded fillets of plaice - had been cooked beautifully. It was tender and incredibly tasty with tiny slices of cauliflower near but not under a cheese sauce. This meant you could construct your own cauliflower cheese as and when you wished; it's these kind of freedoms, surely, that make war worthwhile ... We shared a burnt Camp coffee cream, for pudding. The idea was clever, the flavour redolent of childhood milky drinks: a great take on crème brûlée. Finally, a word on the wine glasses. If you really like wine, invest in some Riedel glasses - they really do make good stuff taste even better. Hence the wonderment that came over me as I sipped my red from a stemless glass that brought together thriftiness (less glass) with great wine-to-mouth delivery - thereby deftly combining both the spirit of the age and flavour, a bit like the pub. Not bad for Fulham 17/20 £28

Newspaper reviews

Sitwell scoffed ... Plate of Cumbrian ham, brawn, potted rabbit and mince pies, for two (£11.50) Breaded fillets of plaice with cauliflower and cheese (£14) Burnt Camp coffee cream (£5.50).