Petrus by Gordon Ramsay Review
As a food writer, I should write about food. As a wine writer, I should write about wine. But as a human, I must write about people. At Pétrus in Belgravia, the people are at the heart of what makes it extraordinary.
They are nothing short of exceptional, giving the perfect balance of professionalism, warmth, and intuition. This is a rare combination in an industry where staff are often transient, many in London to learn the language or gain experience, without fully understanding that service can make or break an experience.
I was joined for dinner by Darren, a fellow food and wine writer, who also happens to be brilliant company. Throughout the evening, we both talked about the calibre of service at Pétrus. Unlike the overbearing or aloof service we’ve all endured elsewhere, the team here read the room with skill. They stepped in when needed and faded into the background when not. Its service delivered with precision, tailored to the individual table.
The team knew I was a food writer, but there were no theatrics or contrived attempts to impress. Instead, there was an understated confidence and professionalism that made the experience feel seamless, as though this level of service is simply how things are done here.
Milena, the sommelier, stood out. To be a sommelier, you need knowledge paired with passion. You must understand how to pair food and wine thoughtfully and sometimes surprise guests with something unfamiliar. Milena, with a cheeky smile, served one of our wines with the label facing away from us. This defied usual protocol, and when we asked to see the label, she declined with a grin, announcing it was a blind tasting.
My glass sent me traversing the world. Initially, I thought it was an Amarone, given the deep, powerful nose, the colour, and the tears on the inside of the glass suggesting high alcohol. Then I veered toward Zinfandel before settling, incorrectly, on a 2016 Grenache. It turned out to be a South African Syrah from 2018. I was at least happy that I’d narrowed it down to a Rhône varietal.
Darren came remarkably close with his Nebbiolo, identifying it as a 2021 Barbaresco instead of the 2020 that it was. I didn’t say it at the time, but I was hugely impressed. What a palate he has. I made a mental note to do more blind tasting with him.
Later, during the optional cheese course, Milena presented us with a wine served in a Champagne flute. Its deep, brown hue immediately suggested age. On the nose, I thought of vintage port, but the colour made me second-guess myself, as it would be far too old to have been served by the glass. I eventually guessed it was a Vin Santo, drawn by its raisin-like notes. Always go with your instincts - it was a Cockburn 1955 Vintage Port. Astonishing and what a treat!
The dessert course offered another inspired pairing. My Pear Sablé, with white chocolate, pink peppercorns, and verbena, was matched with a Poiré Granit by Eric Bordelet. This exquisite pear wine is made from 30 different varieties of pears harvested from 200- to 300-year-old trees. Light and refreshing, it was something I would never have chosen for myself but proved a perfect match.
Delphine, another member of the front-of-house team, was equally outstanding. Her enthusiasm for what she does was very evident. Her passion shone through as she took the time to chat with us. This is her career, and I’m certain she will go on to lead a team at a high-end restaurant one day. You either have that special skill set, or you don’t (she does). Speaking from experience as a former sommelier in a Michelin-starred restaurant, I know this work demands patience and poise, qualities I eventually occasionally struggled with as I got older when faced with guests who dine solely to find fault, as opposed to actually enjoying the experience. A note to readers: be kind to the restaurant team.
Delphine also took us into the immaculate basement kitchen, complete with a brown marble pass, to meet chef Orson Vergnaud. This is one of the privileges of being a writer and one I love. Darren and I shared our admiration for the team, and it was no surprise to learn that Orson is personally involved in every hire. Delphine summed it up perfectly: “It’s like being in a family here.”
As for the food? It was precision, passion, and flawless execution. While Pétrus officially holds one Michelin star, the dishes I experienced were at a level I would confidently describe as two-star. The cooking is grounded in classic techniques but elevated by creativity and an evident depth of knowledge. Each dish showed a commitment to flavour and balance, transcending the superficial aesthetics often prioritised in today’s Instagram-driven food scene. To understand and achieve excellence, aspirational chefs must eat widely and thoughtfully elsewhere, extending their knowledge and then learn the required skills.
I chose the Discovery Menu, a six-course journey priced at £190, and thoroughly enjoyed its focus on fish over meat, something I admit I should incorporate more into my choices. Unlike some tasting menus that feel like a disjointed collection of dishes, this menu followed a thoughtfully curated path, each course building seamlessly on the last.
It began with smoked eel, artfully cut into diamond shapes and topped with caviar, celeriac, and apple. The caviar brought a briny saltiness, the celeriac added texture, and the apple provided a delicate, refreshing balance.
Next came a lobster raviolo accompanied by finger lime, fennel, and a deeply flavoured bisque. The pasta was of ideal thickness, perfectly encasing the lobster. The finger lime cut through the richness, acting as a natural seasoning, while the fennel, a wonderful pairing with lobster, was used with restraint. The bisque, rich and packed with flavour, added a luxurious punch that I loved.
The indulgence continued with Cornish turbot served alongside brassicas and nasturtium, all brought together with a vin jaune sauce. The charred brassicas elevated the dish, their smoky notes harmonising beautifully with the slightly nutty sauce. Every element worked in unison, creating a dish that was both complex and balanced.
For the main course, I had Rabbit à la Royale, a dish that reminded me how under appreciated rabbit is. Here, it was presented with black pudding and pickled cabbage in a way that showcased immense technical skill. Imagine a Beef Wellington reimagined: the brioche replaced by tender rabbit, the pâté swapped for an exquisitely soft black pudding, all wrapped together in a rich, flavourful package.
Pickled cabbage was served on the side. I was encouraged to pair it with the rabbit to cut through the dish’s richness, and it worked brilliantly. This course was nothing short of sensational. Milena paired it with the South African Syrah I mentioned earlier, which complemented the dish beautifully with its deep, savoury character and restrained pepperiness.
I haven’t mentioned one of the standout highlights of the meal, something so exceptional that I would return to Pétrus just for this alone: a chicken consommé infused with sage and finished with a delicate splash of chive oil. The depth of flavour in this dish was genuinely mind-blowing. Paired with the sourdough bread and Oxfordshire salted butter we enjoyed alongside it, I could have easily polished off three bowls without hesitation.
Of course, dining at this level requires an investment, both in time and cost. But the mark of a truly great restaurant is its ability to make you forget about both. I usually find myself glancing at my watch during a long meal, mindful of train schedules or commitments. At Pétrus, I never once checked the time. Our reservation was at 7 pm, and we left at 11 pm, time simply disappeared, condensed into a vacuum pack of exceptional moments.
Some diners are always in pursuit of the next new opening, and while that’s understandable, there’s something to be said for a restaurant that has stood the test of time. Pétrus isn’t chasing trends or gimmicks. Pétrus embodies brilliance, pure, unpretentious brilliance, and is a reminder that sometimes, the best dining experiences are found not in the fleeting excitement of the new but in the timeless consistency of the exceptional.
