I first heard about The Fat Duck in 2001, when Heston Blumenthal’s take on molecular gastronomy was really starting to attract critical acclaim and err… robust discussion. (Looking at the restaurant website, I’m quite surprised to learn that it opened in 1995.) I’ve been dying to eat there ever since, and this year I struck gold when Dave offered to take me there for my birthday!

It only took two attempts to get a reservation for lunch–I’m so thankful that modern phones have a redial button. I can’t imagine twirling a dial at speed to try and break into the queue!–and then Dave and I spent the next two months eagerly anticipating (and fretting slightly) our meal.

On the duly appointed day, we dropped Lucas off with Auntie Sarah in Reading for a day of fun, frolics, song and—if desperate measures were required—classic Doctor Who DVDs, and then drove onto Bray, arriving with plenty of time to spare.

I’ve seen a lot of reviews describe Bray as a quaint little English country village. I think that’s overstating it, really. Bray is a hamlet. We’re talking a handful of houses, village hall, hairdressers—men’s night on Thursday!—two pubs and The Fat Duck. We stopped in at The Hinds Head Hotel–another Heston venture–for a drink as did many of our fellow diners.

We arrived at The Fat Duck on time and were seated immediately in a nice corner table, close to the kitchen. This was by far the best table in my opinion. I love to catch a glimpse inside kitchens when I eat out, and it also let me have a really good look around the restaurant itself.

The Fat Duck used to be a pub–I find it incredible that Bray could ever have supported three pubs–and it still has a little of that vibe to it. There was no stuffy formality or hushed tones as you would tend to find at Michelin starred restaurants. Au contraire! There was quite a lively buzz–doubtlessly many people were discussing the dishes that they were eating–and everyone seemed nicely relaxed.

The sommelier sallied forth with the champagne trolley and asked if we’d like a glass. As it was my birthday, I chose a very nice Tattinger Brut Reserve which had the tiniest, most delicate bubbles I’ve ever encountered in a champagne. All champagne is elegant, but this was very special indeed.

Next we were presented with our menus and despite lusting after several of the dishes on the A La Carte menu, we went for the tasting menu. I asked for the wine list and it was lugged over in due course.

I really wish I’d taken a picture of the wine list for it was an absolute tome of a book. Thickly bound in leather with the Fat Duck logo embossed on the cover, several inches thick and just on the right side of playful as opposed to ostentatious. Each page contained only a handful of wines, which is just one of many examples of the way Heston plays with your expectations.

I was slightly peeved that the wine list was handed to Dave even though I’d been the one to ask for it. Not quite what one expects in a modern restaurant. But that is a very minor quibble!

We began with the now-famous Nitro Green Tea and Lime Mousse. We watched with child-like glee as the waiter poured liquid nitrogen into a bowl and then squirted mousse from a nitrous whip onto a spoon before deftly ‘poaching’ it in the liquid nitrogen. The ball of mousse jittered and danced over the surface of the nitrogen as if it was alive. Great theatre!

A dusting of green tea from a fine muslin bag provided the final flourish and then the mousse was presented to me with a polite instruction to eat it all in one bite. I crammed it in–it really was quite a large ball of mousse–and wow! Not at all the texture I’d expected. It was crisp, like good meringue, with only the very centre remaining slightly gooey. Sharply tart from the lime, slightly musty from the green tea, and then the vodka whooshed in and left my mouth tingling.

Next came a nice little extra. Two vibrant squares of orange and beetroot jelly. I’m sure everyone know the trick by now—golden beetroot and blood oranges—but for us the real surprise was the complexity of the flavours, especially when they mingled on the palate.

The next amuse bouche was Oyster and passion fruit jelly, lavender. I’d never eaten oysters before and I loathe passion fruit, so I really wasn’t looking forward to this. The presentation was breathtakingly gorgeous–alas, my pictures of this dish are decidedly out of focus–and I actually quite enjoyed the oyster. The lavender flavour must have been very subtle indeed as I didn’t detect it in the little sugary wafer shard that decorated the dish.

Pommery Grain Mustard Ice Cream, Red Cabbage Gaspacho. This was wonderful. Amazing, even. I’d have licked the plate clean if I hadn’t been out in public. The ice cream was sweet-hot and the tiny mustard seeds popped on your tongue—I’d love to know how they achieved that. The red cabbage gaspacho was quite mellow and was a great foil for the fire of the mustard. A brunoise of cucumber nestled under the ice cream gave a delicious, cooling crunch.

The next amuse was quite spectacular, especially visually. The waiter brought over a tray of oak moss, oak moss and truffle toasts, and a very cute dish containing jelly of quail, langoustine cream, parfait of foie gras. Perched on top of the tray of moss were two little plastic containers containing a film of oak moss, which dissolved on the tongue like a breath freshener, to prepare the palate for the truffle. It was explained to us that oak moss and truffle contain many identical flavour compounds, hence the flavour combination. The waiter then produced a little iron teapot and poured its contents–I think it was a fir tea–over the tray of oak moss, and more magic happened.

White smoke began pouring from the tray of moss and drifting, thickly across our table like fog. Heston must have been a magician in a past life. (Dry ice in the bottom of the tray, if you were curious.) The smoke had a very faint–to my nose; Dave smelled it much more clearly–aroma of oak moss and fir The truffle toast was very good, but to me it just tasted and smelled of mushrooms. Dave, on the other hand, thought it smelt absolutely amazing and was in raptures over it. I fear that I may well be one of those women who can’t smell/taste truffles properly.

The quail jelly, langoustine cream, and foie gras parfait was far more my sort of thing. Incredibly rich–you definitely couldn’t eat more than one portion, no matter how much you would want to–and oh-so-intensely flavoured. This was by far my favourite amuse bouche. Nestled at the very bottom of each dish was a spoonful of vibrant pea puree which helped to cut through the salty richness of the quail jelly. The tiny quenelle of foie gras parfait that decorated the dish was buttery, rich and really just perfect. I would go back for this dish alone. (Alas, my photos of this dish were horrendous, so I cannot share the joy with you.)

We then moved seamlessly to the main dishes. First–and please excuse the photograph–was the (in)famous Snail Porridge and Dave’s most feared dish.

I’ve only had snails once before and I liked them very much at the time, so I was really looking forward to this dish, despite the rather Roald Dahl-esque name. (I think Dahl would have appreciated Heston–and his approach to cooking–a lot.)

When the plate arrived I was amused to see that it resembled a risotto far more than any porridge I’ve ever eaten. Smooth, creamy, and with the grains of oats nicely separated with no lumps in evidence. There was a strong snail flavour through the porridge itself, which was fabulous. Perched on top were some large meaty snails which had soaked up layer upon layer of flavour, but mainly garlic.

Little slivers of salty-sweet Joselito ham nestled between the snails and the whole thing was topped off with fennel that had been shaved paper-thin and somehow made delicious. (I don’t generally like raw fennel,but this was lovely.)

Alas, Dave didn’t appreciate the porridge as much as I did. The porridge itself was fine, as was the first snail, but then his mind reminded him that he was eating a snail, and it went downhill from there. Ah well, I had no plans to start a snail farm at home anyway.

The next dish was Roast Fois Gras, almond fluid gel, cherry, chamomile. Aside from the beautiful presentation, the flavour combinations here were to die for. Absolutely glorious!

The cherry puree was incredibly intense but was mellowed out by the almond fluid gel. I loved the tiny cubes of Amaretto jelly, too. They had a real kick to them! The best thing about this dish was that you every forkful was different, but it always came back to the softly melting, buttery foie gras. Incredibly good. Stunning, even.

“Sounds of the Sea” was the next dish, and for both of us this was a real low point. It looked absolutely beautiful and was very convincing in its attempt to recreate a seaside scene, but… I’m not a fan of raw shellfish.

I did quite enjoy the sea urchin—the orange-yellow blob in front—and the oyster—at the back—but whatever the middle shellfish was… well, it just disagreed with my palate. Very strong and the texture was just unpleasant to me.

The seaside sounds delivered via iPods in seashells was fun, but I don’t think it added anything to the taste of the food. I ate whilst listening to the sounds and without and didn’t notice any change in the flavours. I suspect that growing up in a fishing town has just left me with the urge to duck every time I hear gulls circling overhead rather than any fond food memory associations!

From raw to cooked…. “Sounds of the Sea” was followed by Salmon poached with Liquorice, artichokes, vanilla mayonnaise and”Manni” olive oil. I must admit that I was a bit dubious about the combination of liquorice and salmon, but I was quite pleased to be proven wrong by Heston!

The liquorice gelee that coated the salmon was actually very mild, almost bland until combined with a little of the vanilla mayonnaise, at which point the flavours “woke up” and started to dance on my tongue. I don’t quite know how to describe it, but it was good. I won’t be rushing to play with liquorice in the kitchen, but I’ve definitely filed away salmon+vanilla=good mentally.

Incidentally, “Manni” olive oil is reputed to be the world’s most expensive olive oil. I wish I’d paid more attention to it at the time! Also, the little pink flecks on the plate are individual juice cells from a pink grapefruit. Very clever idea!

The last main course was Ballotine of Anjou Pigeon, black pudding “to order”, Chinese pigeon cracker, pickling brine and spiced juices. I’d never had pigeon before, so didn’t know what to expect. The meat was very tender and also very red. I did feel that the flavour of the meat itself was perhaps drowned out by the spices, but as the dish was quite delicious overall, I couldn’t really complain.

The black pudding “to order” was completely not what I expected. It turned up in the form of a rather pinky-beige sauce which bordered on the greasy side of things. The tiny caramelised onions did cut the richness of the sauce, which helped tremendously. And the pigeon cracker/crackling? So good.

To kick off the sweet portion of the menu, we were then served tiny glasses of Hot and Iced Tea. This was light, floral and exactly the right level of sweetness for me. I already knew the secret of the tea–fluid gel–but it was still pretty cool to experience hot tea on one side of my mouth and icy cold on the other.

Two further pre-desserts followed: Mrs Marshall’s Margaret Cornet and a Pine Sherbet Fountain. The cornet was tiny and really pretty–alas, we forgot to take a picture–but I didn’t really enjoy the ice-cream it held. I think there were a couple of flavours involved, but I just couldn’t identify them. I think I was suffering from a bit of flavour fatigue by this point. The cornet itself was delicious–almost like a brandy snap but deep-fried.

The pine sherbet fountain has to be the best–and the only acceptable way, in my book–to eat pine. I haven’t had a sherbet fountain in years, and so I thoroughly enjoyed this little amusement. Using a blown vanilla bean in place of liquorice is a stroke of genius!

Dessert was Mango and Douglas Fir Puree, Bavarois of lychee and mango. Alas, this just didn’t work for me. The fir was strong and sent the taste straight towards savoury. Perhaps I still had pine lingering on my palate? Who knows. I also felt that the combination of the mango and fir together had a bit of a soapy quality to it–rather like when you use too much rosemary in a dish.

Dave, on the other hand, thought that this was an incredible dessert and was really surprised that I was morosely pushing it around my plate.

At this point, a waitress came over and announced that it was “time for breakfast”. Perhaps this works better during the dinner service when it’s close to midnight by the time you’re on dessert?

We were presented with boxes of Fat Duck Cereal and a small jug of milk. This turned out to be parsnip cereal and parsnip milk, which might sound mad, but cornflakes are made out of maize/sweetcorn which is also a vegetable…. At any rate, for two devoted parsnip-lovers, this was a fantastic little dish. I’m surprised that Heston hasn’t branched out into the breakfast cereal market. I’d certainly start eating breakfast if this was on offer!

Our full English breakfast then continued with Nitro-scrambled Egg and Bacon Ice Cream, pain perdu, tea jelly. As with the Nitro green tea and lime mousse, this was made at our table, but this time using a gorgeous copper frying pan and faux-burner. Our waiter explained that alas! there was no gas, so he would have to use liquid nitrogen instead to cook our eggs.

He then cracked a Fat Duck Egg–if you watch closely, you can see the hole in the egg where it was drained and the ice cream custard injected back in–into the pan, added some liquid nitrogen, and started whisking away. Another waiter appeared by his side with the rest of our breakfast and before we knew it, breakfast was served.

This was really quite amazing. The ice-cream was very definitely savoury when eaten alone–I clearly got both the smoky bacon and loads of scrambled egg flavour–but at the same time… sweet. The sweetness was further enhanced by the sugared strip of pancetta underneath it and a small piece of gorgeous pain perdu. It was definitely brioche–you can’t mistake that buttery goodness–but I think it was also caramelised. Seriously good and seriously impressive.

The tea jelly was very refreshing and had a nice loose set to it. It was mostly Earl Grey, I believe, but I’m pretty sure that there was some green tea and lemon in there, too. I’ll definitely be trying to recreate that at home as it was so reviving.

We rounded off the meal with Whisk(e)y Wine Gums and some delectable Petits Fours.

The Fat Duck lived up to all my expectations. I had an absolutely fabulous meal, some great theatre, and overall it’s an experience that I’ll remember for many years. The food may seem like nothing more than a novelty, gimmick or fad, to some people, but it isn’t. Yes, there is plenty of novelty and innovation, but at the end of the day, what matters is taste, and nine times out of ten, Heston gets the taste absolutely right. (And more likely than not, the dishes that didn’t work for me will have been received rapturously by plenty of other people.)

We’ll definitely be returning to dine from the A La Carte menu–I’m particularly keen to try the Black Forest Gateaux–but I’m very glad that we chose the tasting menu this time.

I can’t wait to go back!

The Fat Duck
High Street
Bray, Berkshire, UK
Telephone: 01628 580 333