By the time I get to Phoenix
I’m sorry, I just can’t get rid of it now, that song in my ear! ‘By the time I get to Phoenix, she’ll be rising….’. You know, the Glen Gampbell one from forever ago. It would be much more edifying to think of the Phoenix rising from the ashes, of inner renewal, of the cleansing by fire blah blah but I’m being pedestrian here and, happily humming as I walk from Sloane Square down the Kings Road, take a left at Smith Street and then already spot the warm glow on the corner there.
It’s a cutie, the Phoenix, that’s for sure. Being in one of the residential Chelsea side streets, it’s more oriented towards the locals than to the finger snapping, pimp rolling Kings Road Friday night cruisers. The light is warm, the staff are friendly, the patrons smile and chat in their cut glass accents, their Barbours and puffa jackets casually slung over the back of the chairs and sofas. Really, the whole place looks more like someone’s rather cosy and comfy sitting room. One wonders whether the shooting party and perhaps a couple of chocolate Labradors are about to appear.
I’m a little early getting here to meet my nephew but I’ve come from the Lister Hospital where I have been given some good news, so I celebrate with a nice glass of chilled house white and make myself at home on one of the leather sofas while I wait for him. Mostly, I don’t really feel comfortable as a woman alone in a pub but here I do, all down to that easy welcome and the discreetly pally chattiness of the other guests. It’s as though I’ve been coming here for years. Nice.
The Lovely Nephew arrives, flustered, straight from work, so I drag him into my little corner and buy him a glass of the rosé wine he favours. ‘Ahhhhhhh’ he sighs and visibly unwinds. And then the chatting begins. We’re specialists at that. I sometimes suspect that a bomb could go off beside us and we’d still be yakyakyaking away without even noticing the giant crater beside us. We really only wanted to catch up. You know the thing, a couple of drinks, a quick debrief and then each of us back home for supper. But then we decide we’re a bit hungry. Just a bit. Not exactly starvin’ Marvin but that a little yummy morsel would be just the ticket. Lucky then that The Phoenix has a rather inviting little restaurant behind the bar area at the back!
We’re given the perfect little table for two and scan the small good looking pub menu of six starters and seven mains and yes, okay, I admit it, I looked, five pudding and cheese options. Everything is locally sourced; the menu changes regularly to fit in with seasonal produce. Meat, fish, game and veggie choices tempt.
Since we both just want a light bite, we both choose starters. The nephew goes for herb crusted goats cheese, pickled walnut, apple and frisée salad and of course, I have to have a small sample of that. It’s amazing! I absolutely hate frisée salad, so I leave him that, but the herb crusted goats cheese, walnut and apple is just mindblowing. Somehow the slightly sharp creaminess and the crunchy crustiness works so well! I’m wondering whether perhaps I’ve missed out by ordering crab and cod fish cake, poached egg, spinach and hollandaise sauce but I am not disappointed in the slightest. Tasty, comforting, very homemade and reminiscent of nursery suppers, this goes down extremely well too. For good measure and frankly, because I am a little predictable in my preferences, we’ve ordered a portion of sweet potato fries which we devour between us without pausing for breath. At the end of it, we are certainly stuffed to the gills but then I reason with him that you know, really, we out to try their warm chocolate brownie with vanilla ice cream because I can’t possibly write a blog post on just two starters, can I?! So we sacrifice ourselves, dear reader, just for you, you understand. I can report that this too, got full marks from both of us, mostly because the brownie was not too sweet and not too rich but beautifully spongey, and the quality and creaminess of the vanilla ice cream was just so, as it melted on to our spoons.
The meal cost £56.92 including wine and service charge but that’s not as expensive as it sounds, because the wine alone came to £25.10.
I think you get the gist, I’m rather keen on this little place but steady on now, I don’t want you all rushing there and stealing my barstool!
What I wore
Black skinny jeans by Velvet, silk chiffon shirt by Valentino Red, reversible orange/black Hermes belt with gold buckle, orange Campari Manolo Blahnik Mary Jane shoes, orange Hermes Kelly bag, black High Tech jacket with velvet and leather trim.
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I look forward to sharing more food adventures with you!
Kia aka Fizz of Life