Big Review: Colonel Fawcett, Camden Town

In early Jan last year, we published one of our first reviews to create a genuine stir online. We gave a newly taken over boozer 9/10 for their cooking. With a 21 year old Head Chef, Dorian Kirk, and a dazzling menu of modern British cuisine, skilled but reasonably priced, it seemed a marker of culinary change sweeping across the neighbourhood. This came to fruition later on in 2012 with buzzy openings like Chicken Shop, The Grafton, Camden Town Brewery’s Streetfeasts and Farmer Tom’s Kitchen.

Yet after our rave review, we had mixed experiences for the rest of the year. The cooking was strong if Dorian was there, and suffered if he wasn’t. And the bar itself simply became a victim of its own success: rammed nightly, the craziness made it hard to concentrate on what had to be some of the most well-priced food in north London.

Dorian left in January, and we wondered what the next move for the three early thirtysomething co-owners would be. In a wise choice, they hired Andrew Evans, an experienced chef who, most interestingly for Kentishtowners, was at the helm at The Highgate, an acclaimed mid-noughties gastropub in what is now the all-conquering Pizza East. Reassuringly enough, he’s also done time at Gordon Ramsay, The Ivy and Petrus. So we were invited to pop by on a quiet Tuesday lunchtime to see if the Fawcett was still a destination to be reckoned with.

From a thorough list of gins, we started with a classic martini, and a Bombay Sapphire with Earl Grey, the former a better aperitif than the latter, really more of a longer drink to schlurp in a noisy bar. We moved onto a decent Falanghina white, although – tsk, tsk! – it wasn’t quite chilled enough.

Evans’ menu ploughs the same furrow as his predecessor’s, inventive British fare voguishly heavy on shellfish paired with pork. A taster of braised ox with onion purée was unctuous: “meat for vegetarians”, moaned co-editor Tom with guilty pleasure (he only fell off the veggie wagon last year). A starter of razor clams with wild boar and caramelised red onion proved more exciting on paper than in the mouth, but “heritage” beetroot carpaccio was a beautiful dish to look at, its sweet earthiness and combination of textures lifted by the tartness of marinated shallots. What looked like – quelle horreur! – piped cream was actually goat’s cheese, rich, moreish and delicious.

Our two mains were both excellent, although we had a bit of a debate with owner Ross over the use of samphire. He insisted it was British, and therefore seasonal; I argued that it was impossible. The answer? It was imported from Holland.

Okaaay. But the dish it came with, a sea bass with a very tomatoey consommé and five foraged herbs – the others being sea beet, sea alexander, monk’s beard, sea fennel – was light and fragrant. Meanwhile, sole with prawns and burnt butter had a luxuriousness that went better still.

Slightly less impressive? An egg tart, a tad bland, lifted by a tangy rhubarb, both stewed and in sorbet.

Our verdict? The menu is back on track – if anything, these boys are more serious than ever about the food offering. Work in progress in parts, admittedly, but it’s still a gem of a local. And their monthly supper clubs are ones to watch too, leisurely candle-lit soirees in the elegant upstairs dining room.