A Review of Rivington Bar & Grill
The problem with really fresh orange juice is that after decades of concentrate from the fridge, I am conditioned to enjoy it only cold. This is unfortunate, because the type of orange juice where a couple of oranges are tossed into a machine in front of your eyes is usually lukewarm and disappointing when it really shouldn’t have to be. I suppose it is a good thing that we weren’t conditioned to this flavour too. Although life in the 2000’s might have been cheaper.
I asked simply for an orange juice as I sat down at the Rivington Bar and Grill and it’s been a long time since such a casual request yielded the real thing. But they met the mark did the Rivington B$G they did, in all their toilet seat lukewarmedness.
The atmosphere was pleasant, all the ingredients for an elegant supper were there… And a few besides: A TV? Rowdy party of diners above? And children? (Ok I suppose children have to eat too) Except for the presence of the TV we could call this tolerance. I should buy some.
And the ‘real thing’ just kept on coming to the table, as the bread course was proper sour dough, something I am a real fan of. Isn’t sour dough great?
As always the starter menu looked more appetising than the mains. We ordered egg Colcannon, despite my post-tzigano’s egg cynicism. I am a fan of modern twists on traditional food. This dish was a wise choice as the generous portion lived up in every way to how a modern interpretation of an old classic should do:. The recipe was going for mix of textures- the crunch of sparky high notes added by spring onions and chives, saturated in fresh yolk.
I was a bit disappointed with the definition of blackface haggis. Now I expected this to be black-face sheep (and later research has confirmed this to be true), however on questioning the waitress enliven this to mean it was ‘Scottish black pudding’. We gave her a cynical look. she didn’t budge. We looked at each other, and decided that despite our suspicions, the thought of a main course of pigs blood was too horrible to consider, even if it came with neeps and scallops. We opted instead for the whole sea bass.
We should have ordered one sea bass between two. Because a whole sea bass is no small fry. Instead we ordered one of each, and a side order of bubble and squeak and greens.
Silence ensued as we forked out way through endless soft flakes of white fish flesh. Simple capers added a rewarding zing. Yes it was good and so were the sides- more of the traditional stars.
To my distress, we had to pull away from the dessert menu, as dessert had been arranged at a secret London Bridge location that let us down by being closed for refurbishment, but that’s another story…
Rivington Bar & Grill, 178 Greenwich High Road