Our Inspector's View

Heston Blumenthal's The Fat Duck, and its telegenic proprietor himself, have entered the modern pantheon of culinary legend with the four-hour marathon of idiosyncratic and inventive eating that is one of those bucket-list experiences that will stay with you forever. A foodie pilgrimage here has never come cheap – the entrance fee is £325 these days - and that’s before you bring jaw-droppingly expensive wine, sundry drinks and the 12.5% service charge into the equation - but when you appreciate the work that goes into each dish – the craft, the passion, the time – the cost seems easier to justify, and the stellar staff can cope with eight or so languages to keep the international punters informed as they go along. What follows consumes you as much as you consume it, as a parade of highly conceptualised dishes unfold, arriving on sandy beaches accompanied by gigantic seashells or perched on great white cushions floating in mid-air. Ice cream is crab flavoured, and rocket-shaped ice lollies taste of Waldorf salad – Blumenthal’s mission is to mess with your head and recreate the sense of thrilled anticipation one had as a child when the family set out on a summer holiday, and that joy is tangible in the intensity of the flavours as much as in the entertaining menu concept that it generates. A turbot course brings fish of remarkable quality, alongside smoky torched cucumber, caviar and a heavenly reduced broth. Botrytis cinerea is the ‘noble rot’ that produces the mouldy grapes destined for legendary dessert wines such as Sauternes, but chez Heston it’s the name of a dessert designed to resemble a bunch of grapes, each exploding with contrasting flavours and textures. That’s ultimately what great cooking is about: when all the theatrical ingenuity makes sense and has purpose delivering flavour, emotion and craftsmanship; something the Fat Duck is incomparably good at.

Awards, Accolades & welcome Schemes

5 Rosette Award for Culinary Excellence