St JOHN Restaurant | Particl Company Profile

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Sunset-orange, glistening plumply against oceanic blue-grey shells: mussels whose richness is cut with the farmyard funk of Breton Cidre and the freshness of fennel. Generously buttered bread, a sunny afternoon, and happiness.

How great the temptation to fill a long weekend with people and plans. How great the pleasure in setting them aside for a moment alone, with only yourself to please. Six oysters, a glass or two of Remy Gresser’s excellent Riesling, the glorious sunshine gleaming on the Marylebone pavements as you watch the world go by. What solitary heaven. Captured by @samaharris

As we bemoan that our parents’ traits have suddenly become our own, let us take a moment for Rum and Raisin Ice Cream. The baffling choice of our elders as we reached for strawberry or bubble gum, yet now so often our very own first choice, with little notion of when and why that first choice occurred. But what a joy that it did. Here is the non sum ultra of Rum and Raisin Ice Creams, carrying the depth and warmth of both fine rum and fond nostalgia.

Bright lemon and hot batter, fingers scalded by excessive eagerness, tongue cooled by caper-studded, egg-rubbled sauce. Fried fish and sunshine heralding these welcome first glimmers of summer.

What delicate, gentle hues. A sunset-flushed slice of sweetly tender hay-baked ham, a green-flecked pool of sauce rich with braising juices and herbaceous with parsley, the softly translucent marrow which soothes the senses with its subtle brightness. What deceptive simplicity, what utter deliciousness. Photography by @emperorofhoxton

“An Eccles cake without some cheese is like a kiss without a squeeze”. The incomparable Mrs Kirkham’s Lancashire Cheese; crumbly and creamy with enough strength to complement the sweetness of the dense, spiced currants. A lasting union on our menus.

“London chef serves raw carrots and a boiled egg!” cried one outraged newspaper thirty years ago. Yes indeed, we did. And we still do, fuzzy with fronds and vigorous with aioli. No trends, no frippery, no fuss, we simply serve the things that we like to eat. Photography by @harrietlangford

Tick, tock, tick, tock! No sooner have we rejoiced in the first bright Arthurian-green spears of Asparagus appearing in our kitchens, revelling in the weeks of melted butter and grated Coolea which stretch before us, than the weeks stretch no more. Gone before we have had our fill.   What a gift from The Great Chef in the Sky that these treasures disappear before we are sated, leaving us longing for more and allowing us such joy when they make their long-awaited return. @samaharris

The Easter weekend stretches before us with languid promise. Plans are loose, lunches are long and lazy days shimmer with possibility. Whether the sunshine beams brightly through the high skylights or the rain glazes the paving stones as you shelter inside, there is no better place to while away a lengthy afternoon than our Smithfield bar. A lunchtime Rarebit and a bottle of Breton Cidre to share… and when you find yourself still here as dusk settles, a round of Rarebits again before you weave your way home. The pop of a St. JOHN Champagne cork to celebrate the reunion with those old friends with whom you used to visit this bar many years ago, the glass of Triballe Rouge which somehow turns into a bottle and then another as you lose yourself in the joy of conversation, the first glass of rosé of the year, a joyful herald of the summer days ahead. There is, after all, ample time to tend a fuzzy head, plentiful parks and pavements to wander through as you walk off the afternoon’s gentle excess, marvelling at our city’s seasonal loveliness, and an abundance of good things all Bank Holiday weekend at St. JOHN Smithfield. 📸 @harrietlangford

Pulled through a silky mound of Cod’s Roe, sweetness snapped between the teeth, leaves folded neatly to draw through the roe once more. St. JOHN Picpoul as crisp as the crudités and as cold as the wind which whips our ankles and belies the bright sunshine. A sensory expression of springtime. Photography by @samaharris

As smoked eel jolts the palate with such an expansive hit of richly savoury flavour, its companions must be chosen wisely. A gathering: the crush of sweetly waxy potato to soothe the senses, the tingle of horseradish to uplift the spirits, this mound of just-warm softness served with the crunch of hot, well-buttered toast. What these companions lack in glamour, they amply make up for in complement, contrast and understanding. A happy thought for our own dearest friendships.

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