I had to go and see what all this fuss was about. Here I am at The Devonshire, having walked for about an hour and a half, I had certainly built up an appetite being very much in the mood for some good British ‘pub grub’. I had a very warm welcome upon arrival and was shown to my table. I was sat the closest to the mighty oven and I could feel the warmth of it on my face during the whole meal. I didn’t mind this, but it might be unbearable for other people. (I saw some people walk in and then walk out because they found it too hot) First glance on the menu, it was handwritten (A nice touch) It was giving me ‘St John’ vibes. Yet I was hoping it was nothing like it to be honest. I was thinking back to the heavy, greasy fish swimming in about 2 kg of butter there. A heart attack and a nightmare all in one.
To start I went for the potted shrimp, Melba toast. It was nothing special with no flavours that really stood out as far as potted shrimp goes. I wasn’t going back for more. It all felt very ‘neutral’ in the pot. The lemon juice did help lift it though.
Next, I decided to try their halibut fillet. I asked if it came with anything else and the waiter replied that it didn’t “Just a wedge of lemon sorry!” That was fine for me, I was expecting an even more marvellous piece of halibut in that case then. But boy did it look lonely on the plate with a teeny tiny wedge of lemon beside it. In my mind I was imagining a gorgeous, generous piece on the bone. What came was a ridiculously small square and it was dry around the outside and overcooked in middle. The skin had been removed as well, which didn’t help. For £24 I was not convinced. I could have gone to my local fishmonger and cooked this at home myself. It just wasn’t good enough.
Sides- Peas, onions, bacon. I love fresh peas, one of my favourite vegetables of the season. They were acceptable, being just ‘ok’ If I hadn’t ordered them, I would have been properly starving. The peas were green and bright, keeping their wonderful colour. Slightly sweet. I wasn’t excited about the onions in there.
Bread- It was soft, well formed, with a good crust on top. Served perfectly warm. It was the best thing I had eaten out of everything so far. It wasn’t giving me any addictive qualities where I was desperate for another one though.
I heard some interesting conversation throughout my meal: “I am not shouting, don’t take it badly” Is the first thing I heard from the chef who seemed like he was sat right next to me. You could hear every word during service. Were they in training? “Table 14, halibut, make it a nice one, nice piece, with a long tail”. Let’s just say I didn’t get that halibut he was describing!
There is a missing link here. You have such a hype with this restaurant, reservations gone like hot cakes, instagram fame to the extreme. But what for?? I really did want to love this place. I enjoyed the dining room and their grand masterpiece oven. The menu felt comforting being handwritten. The service I received was natural, warm, and professional. They have everything here in their hands to make something good, yet I did not see brilliance today like a lot of critics have described. Was this my fault? Did I pick the wrong dishes? Maybe I should have chosen meat. But really would it have made any difference? It shouldn’t matter.
I looked at the dessert menu, but I decided that The Devonshire doesn’t warrant a dessert. I was still hungry, but I didn’t want to spend any more money here or consume extra calories for absolutely no reward.
The waiter asked me if I enjoyed my meal, which was a pretty awkward question in front of everyone. I hate it when that happens.
Do not feel upset if you can’t get a reservation here. There are much better places for pub food. It is as simple as that. Don’t get yourself in a fluster trying to get in one of the most sought-after reservations in London. Nothing adds up here in relation to that. I felt cheated and a fool for coming here, at least you can read this and be pre warned.
