Harden's - Gilmour's
In the heart of Chelsea, Christopher Gilmour’s ‘local’ restaurant, perfectly pitched for its affluent local market.

The Hon Christopher Gilmour is one of the most charming men you could ever meet. It has not, however, generally fallen to us to write particularly charming reviews of his restaurants. Ever since he first made his name as a restaurateur – with Christopher’s in Covent Garden – we’ve always felt that his establishments rely a bit too heavily on some supposed in-crowd appeal.

Well, now – spiritually speaking – he’s come home. His latest eponymous outfit is just at the end of the Boltons, in one of the swankiest little restaurant streets in the heart of lushest Chelsea. (Aubergine, where the Sweary One first came to public attention, still trades just up the block.)
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Evening Standards Restaurant Spy - Gilmour's
The worst present I’ve ever been given was a bread bin. It came from a relative when Guy and I first set up home together. I’ll never forget the anticlimax of ripping the paper off the hefty and exciting package that sat beneath our little silver Christmas tree, only to be confronted by a bland wooden object (at least it wasn’t pine) that looked like something we might use to transport one of the cats to the vet. (As a general rule, kitchen appliances masquerading as gifts are never a good idea.)
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Mail Online Katie Webb's Restaurant Guide - Gilmour's
Everybody loves food, right? That's always been my theory, anyway. But, in my former life as a fashion magazine journalist, I came across a large number of model-actress-celebrity wannabee types who claimed watercress and water was far more appetizing than a gourmet sauce with a tender, juicy steak and a glass of fine wine. Needless to say, I soon realised I couldn't survive in a world where food is as unfashionable as last season's It Bag.

It was time to get out. Fast. I didn't really know where I was going to go, but fate (and, ofcourse, my love of food) chose my path for me. After a particularly melancholic evening in at a new restaurant near my office, where I poured out my work woes to the manager while passionately polishing off his menu, I found myself with a new role in life: restaurant critic.

So, here I am. I make no bones about the fact that sometimes a girl needs a rich, wine and butter- based sauce in her life. I also believe she also needs red meat, curries, chocolate, meringues, and cream. My biggest weakness is pastries. And wine (of course!).

I'm the antithesis of a food snob (I do love French cuisine, though - oh, the rich sauces!), but I do believe in fresh ingredients cooked well and I'm a sucker for a simple Italian peasant meal. I won't be impressed by a restaurant just because it's trendy and I'm always disappointed when I'm presented an exquisitely-presented, but miniscule serving of something unpronounceable in the middle of a huge plate (always feels a bit like the Emperor's New Clothes).

Give me a hearty, wholesome meal and I'm happy - all the better if it lasts for a few lingering hours and I'm accompanied by really good friends. For me, a great dining out experience is as much about the ambience and the company as the menu, so we can all sit in a character-ful environment and really relax into our meal.

Oh, and did I mention I have a bit of a thing for testosterone-fuelled, temperamental chefs - give me Gordon Ramsay or Marco Pierre White over Ainsley Harriett any day!

There we are. Hopefully you have some idea of who I am, and where I'm coming from. If you like what you see, and it's got you salivating, do join me in the coming weeks as I visit some of my favourite eateries, and explore some new destinations, too.


Katie recommends:
To accompany a meal similar to hers*, Katie suggests:
Jacob's Creek Three Vines Rosé, delicious with creamy potted shrimp; Jacob's Creek Reserve Rosé to complement salmon with lobster sauce; Jacob's Creek Sparkling Chardonnay Pinot Noir Brut Cuvée, an ideal choice to accompany treacle tart.

* Suggested wines, not necessarily available at Gilmour's

Christopher's, in Covent Garden, is one of my favourite restaurants, so, when I heard the owner, Christopher Gilmour, had recently opened another eaterie, in upmarket Chelsea, I was intrigued.

His latest eponymous venture, Gilmour's, nestles in a smart residential street just off London's Fulham Road, and is smaller and more intimate than its established, grander big brother. With just 60 covers, it's like a modest UK to Christopher's confident USA, but with a menu that does for British cuisine what he did with American fare over in WC2 - he celebrates it by cooking it beautifully with a contemporary twist. (Well, he's imported Jeff The Chef from the restaurant at Tate Britain, and he's done it).

Gilmour's definitely benefits from the experience of a respected restaurateur. He's selected knowledgeable, charming staff, and given the place a stylish, welcoming touch with a teal, taupe and chocolate brown colour scheme that blends parquet flooring with rich wood panelling and velvet-stripe banquettes.

Perched on a tactile cowhide barstool for an aperitif of sparkling wine, I found myself stroking the curves of the polished block-wood bar: it's not vast, but it's voluptuous and has a definite air of va-va-voom.

Moving to our table, I tucked into a scrumptious starter of potted shrimps, served with a trio of crisp, crunchy granary toasts, while Stuart opted for a venison salad with roasted plums, curly endive leaves and walnut vinaigrette. He definitely enjoyed it because he didn't say a word until he'd finished.

He then tucked into a 12oz 'Côte de Boeuf' rib-eye steak, which the menu proudly stated was from shorthorn cattle reared on Scotland's Buccleuch estates, and aged for 28 days. Stuart savoured every mouthful before explaining how people go wrong when they cook steak at home (I didn't dare point out that he never does). Thankfully, he was also relishing the Jacob's Creek St Hugo Cabernet Sauvignon 2004 that I'd ordered, and commented how it brought out the delicious smoky, char-grilled flavour of the meat. I listened intently, quietly enjoying the full-bodied, fruity wine with my succulent salmon fillet, served on a bed of braised leeks with a lobster sauce, with a perfect side order of mash. Yum.

And, as Stuart educated me on the exercise required to burn off a portion of the 'tastebud treat' of a treacle tart he was polishing off, I delved into a decadent knickerbocker glory of peaches, raspberries, blueberry jelly, cream and white chocolate ice cream. Words cannot describe this heavenly experience. Christopher Gilmour, I salute you.

Londoner’s Diary Evening Standard 10th November 2008

Lunch with Thatcher?

NO, IT'S not Christopher's, it's Gilmour's. Christopher Gilmour, son of former Defence Secretary Lord Gilmour and founder of the celebrated Covent Garden Restaurant named after his Christian name, has opened a new establishment in Park Place, off Fulham Road.
Concentrating on old-fashioned English food, Gilmour's is thought to be a replacement for the revamped Foxtrop Oscar, which has been ruined by Gordon Ramsay.
Gilmour has installed a celebrated picture on the premises of his father dancing with Margaret Thatcher at a Tory party conference shortly after he was sacked from her Cabinet as a leading Tory Wet. "My mother bore a striking resemblance to the Iron Lady and I think some photographers were confused," says Christopher, who is offering special credit-crunch prices.