Camel Valley

On the second leg of my English wine road trip, Tobias Gorn, head sommelier of Michelin-starred Indian restaurant Tamarind in Mayfair, and I stopped off at Camel Valley in Cornwall, where we were shown around by winemaker Sam Lindo, who talked us through the Camel Valley range. In this video, we try the award-winning Pinot Noir Rosé Brut 2010, and finish up with a wine made from what could become England's flagship white grape: Darnibole Bacchus 2011. Chin chin!

Hibiscus

Claude Bosi, the ambitious and exuberant chef-patron of two Michelin-starred restaurant Hibiscus in Mayfair, has a soft spot for ornamental chickens. So much so, he has a collection of the creatures lining the staircase at the restaurant, whose beady eyes watch you as you venture down to the loo.

Having upped sticks from its original home in Ludlow in 2007, husband and now ex-wife team Claude and Claire run a slick ship at Hibiscus. The restaurant is so understated, I walked straight past it. A polished desk on entry coupled with a partition screen give the impression you’re about to check in to a BA Club lounge. Inside, the interiors have been over-generously garnished with wood. Tones are hushed, lighting bright and flowers orange. On arrival, the restaurant is empty save for one or two tables, to give head chef Marcus McGuinness time to execute Bosi’s intricate dishes while he works his magic at new London pop-up The Cube atop the Royal Festival Hall.

Proceedings are kicked off in style when a pair of goody bowls arrive, one containing pudgy cheese gougères and the other ping pong ball-shaped yuzu and miso croquettes, both of which prove so addictive I’m suspicious they might contain crack cocaine. The croquettes explode with aromatic citrus liquid on biting, while the gougères ooze warm, creamy cheddar down my thankful throat. Chomping enthusiastically into a second, my skirt is christened with liquid cheese. Moments later, a concerned waiter arrives and silently offers me a starched white napkin from between two forks before swiftly departing so as not to draw attention to the incident.

Mackerel tartare with button mushroom cream

Obsessed with seasonality, Hibiscus doesn’t limit itself to the confines of a menu, but rather offers a page of seasonal ingredients, asking diners to choose the number of dishes they’d like (three, six or eight), and which ingredients they would like to see featured. I opt for eight courses and ask to be surprised. In a sweet and fitting tribute to the restaurant’s namesake, the feast begins with a vivifying hibiscus flower and pineapple soda amuse bouche, which I’m told to down like a shot.

Perhaps peaking prematurely, the first course is the apogee of the meal. Served in a small black bowl, a layer of foie gras-coloured button mushroom cream is prettified with edible flowers amid shards of shaved almond sticking out of the top like shark teeth. Beneath the teeth lies a smoky, meaty, mackerel tartare. When eaten together, the result is a rich, creamy and perfumed mouthful given texture by the almond shards in an exquisite example of the culinary pyrotechnics Bosi prides himself on.

Kaffir lime and spring onion ravioli

The next course is equally intriguing: a single, pleated ravioli stuffed with spring onion and Kaffir lime served with a buttery, broad bean and mint purée. The audacious use of lime highlights Bosi’s fearless approach. Out to surprise and delight, he takes flavour pairings to the edge of what is acceptable, assaulting and seducing the palate in one bite. Diners of a meek disposition may not warm to his gung-ho style, but, as each course reveals itself, I revel in the life-affirming flavour skirmish.

A pearl white hunk of roast Cornish John Dory was disappointingly mild on its own, but came to life when paired with the accompanying girolles drizzled in Lancashire mead and a salty sliver of Morteau sausage, the mead adding unctuous sweetness, the girolles earthiness and the sausage a savoury, meaty kick. Next up is a solitary, oak-smoked lamb sweetbread served with fresh goat’s cheese masquerading as a boiled egg, the yolk a pool of grass-green sorrel oil. Rich, juicy and oily, it tasted like a gourmet chicken nugget.

Roast squab pigeon with pistachios and cherries

Mention must be made of the wines. Chosen by natural wine pioneer Isabelle Legeron MW and enthusiastically poured by 22-year-old head sommelier Bastien Ferreri, the majority of the bins on the weighty list are organic and biodynamic, so what ends up in the glass is a bit of a lottery. While the opening wine, a 2009 Marsanne/Rousanne/Chardonnay/Viognier mash up from the Languedoc is cloudy in colour and spiteful in character, a 2007 Vermentino/Chenin Blanc blend from the Languedoc chosen to pair with the ravioli is bright, aromatic and elegantly spiced.

The only wine list in London to carry a page dedicated to orange wines, my wine find of the night was the curious and delicious Savasol 2007 from Loire renegade Julien Courtois. Made from the little-known Menu Pineau grape, Courtois deliberately oxidizes the wine to imbue it with wonderful, Sherry-like aromas of hazelnuts, toffee and sea air. Excited to be presented with a gleaming chunk of lobster, it turns out to be the least remarkable dish of the night. Much more impressive is an almost indecently pink slice of roast squab pigeon served with pistachio gravel. Sweetened by the accompanying cherries, the meat is achingly tender and exoticised by hints of spice. Finishing the dish, a crispy samosa contains creamy foie gras and an array of the bird’s innards.

White asparagus and white chocolate cream

The exhilarating flavour journey ends on a high note with a mystery dessert, the ingredients of which I’m asked to identify. Fashioned into a squidgy macaroon, I correctly guess the key components: white asparagus and white chocolate cream, and also manage to pinpoint the black olive splodges and coconut sorbet, but fail to decipher the elusive whey gel. The rich, savoury concoction seems straight out of the Great British Menu – a dish Matthew Fort would rave about and Oliver Peyton would peer down his glasses disapprovingly at. It was weird, but it worked. That’s the beauty of Bosi – he sends you on a crazy culinary adventure with no seatbelt or indication of the final destination, and the ride is all the better for it.

Hibiscus, 29 Maddox Street, London, W1S 2PA; Tel: +44 (0)20 7629 2999.

San Valentino with Emily O'Hare

During a recent visit to Emilia-Romagna with the lovely Emily O'Hare, sommelier at Michelin-starred Italian restaurant The River Café in Hammersmith, we got Ben Smith of Enotria to film this video where we try two wines from biodynamic estate San Valentino in Rimini, beginning with Due 2011, a Chardonnay/Riesling blend, and ending with the punchy, 100% Sangiovese, Terra di Covignano 2011. Salute!

Negotiating the wine list at Angelus

Ordering a bottle of wine from a Bible-thick list can turn the coolest of customers into a quivering wreck. But help is at hand in the form of Thierry Tomasin, the ebullient, irreverent and unmistakably French owner of Angelus restaurant, a hidden jewel in a quiet corner of Lancaster Gate next to Hyde Park Stables. With 12 years as head sommelier at two Michelin-starred Le Gavroche under his belt, followed by a stint at Gordon Ramsay's Aubergine in Kensington, Tomasin is well versed in the language of wine.

Feeling charitable, he's decided to impart his pearls of wisdom on uninitiated ears, and is offering a masterclass on the complex art of negotiating a wine list at Angelus next Tuesday – a week ahead of Valentine’s Day. A fortnight ago, I was invited to be one of Tomasin's guinea pigs in a practice run before the main event. The evening began in a suitably civilised fashion with a glass of house Champagne Angelium – a tart 100% Pinot Noir, in the gunmetal grey drawing room festooned with inviting velvet chaise longues and bookcases lined with empty trophy bottles of Cheval Blanc and Chapoutier.

Moving downstairs to the chandelier-lit dining room in the cellars, Tomasin, dressed in a purple shirt and silver tie, launches into an impassioned monologue: "So many people are intimidated by wine, especially when they're presented with a list the size of an encyclopedia. But wine should be fun. That's what it's all about,” he insists. Presented with our starter – sashimi-like strips of marinated salmon with triangles of grapefruit and tangerine amid a crème fraìche and caviar garden, and an accompanying glass of aromatic, white flower and peach-filled Domaine Coste Viognier Grenache 2010, Tomasin stresses the importance of doing your homework by calling ahead or looking at the restaurant’s wine list online, so it already looks familiar when the sommelier thrusts the heaving tome into your sweaty palms.

As the nuggets of truth flow freely from Tomasin's lips, it all begins to feel very School for Scoundrels, with Thierry playing a French version of gap-toothed cad about town Terry Thomas. "Follow these simple rules gentleman, and you're guaranteed not to go home empty handed: engage the sommelier, but don't get too deep into conversation. Create a relationship but don't go too far," - quite. As the well rehearsed raconteur continues, our main appears: perfectly pink slices of Gressingham duck breast with garlic potato puree and Bayonne ham wrapped around lithe green beans. To match is a glass of the indecently affordable and delicious Château Civrac 2007 from the Côtes de Bourg.

Seduction school resumes with Tomasin describing sommeliers as "salesmen of pleasure" and suggesting that you can tell a lot about a woman's taste in wine by her taste in coffee. "Double espresso girls are likely to enjoy gutsy reds, while latte ladies would probably prefer a light white,” he offers. Debunking the myth that perfect food and wine matches exist, he calls for creativity – Sherry and soup anyone? Tomasin's approach to food pairing is unashamedly relaxed. He's a firm believer in picking a wine to suit your mood, rather than rigidly trying to marry the flavours on your plate with the aromas in your glass. To finish, Angelium NV makes a welcome reappearance, and is served with an achingly pretty rhubarb millefeuille, its lightly seared top recalling bonfire-toasted marshmallows.

As the petit fours do the rounds, Thierry tells us, rather excitedly, about his secret "love dictionary" – a guest book filled with musings from oft intoxicated diners. One of the entries from a female admirer involves melted chocolate and a desire to spread it. Moving swiftly on, he reminisces, almost wistfully, about his Le Gavroche days, and serving the Queen double G&Ts in the private dining room upstairs. “Her handbag was microscopic – barely big enough for a lipstick,” he quips. If you want the Madonna anecdote, you'll have to book a spot at the dinner. Places are priced at £75 per person, which includes three courses and wines chosen by the scoundrel himself.

Charlie Trotter to close restaurant

Pioneering chef Charlie Trotter is to close his eponymous Chicago restaurant, Charlie Trotter’s, in August after 25 years of service. As reported on thedrinksbusiness.com, Trotter made the announcement to diners on New Year’s Eve, insisting the move is a sabbatical to study philosophy and political theory. “I just had to put the flag in the sand and say I’ve got to go for this; otherwise, I never will," he said, adding, "If I don’t go for something while I’m in the prime of my life and I have the means to do it, well, why wouldn’t I?”

The 52-year-old plans to open a new restaurant after he finishes his studies, though remains tight-lipped about any further details. The Chicago-born chef fell in love with cooking while working in a restaurant during college. With little culinary training, he began working in various restaurants full-time age 23, opening Charlie Trotter’s just four years later.

Because America's dining scene has come so far in 25 years, it’s easy to forget what a pioneer Trotter was, especially in the Midwest. He was among the first to popularise tasting menus and was an early advocate for cooking with fresh, seasonal ingredients, offering vegetarian menus and even a raw menu for guests. Unafraid of controversy, in 2002 he took foie gras off his menu, but when the Chicago city council later passed a ban, he spoke out against it, arguing it wasn't a politician's job to legislate eating habits.

Trotter has also been a consistent champion for wine service, hiring and nurturing some of the top sommeliers in the industry. His 1,800-stong wine list, built on a cellar of more than 7,000 bottles, offers both the benchmark fine wines and smart buys. Trotter made a cameo appearance as an angry chef in the 1997 film My Best Friend’s Wedding starring Julia Roberts and Cameron Diaz.

Negotiating the wine list at Angelus

Ordering a bottle of wine from a Bible-thick list can turn the coolest of customers into quivering wrecks. But help is at hand in the form of Thierry Tomasin, the ebullient, irreverent and unmistakably French owner of Angelus restaurant, a hidden jewel in a quiet corner of Lancaster Gate next to the Hyde Park stables. With 12 years as head sommelier at two Michelin-starred Le Gavroche under his belt, followed by a stint at Gordon Ramsay's Aubergine in Kensington, Tomasin is well versed in the language of wine.

Feeling charitable, he's decided to impart his pearls of wisdom on uninitiated ears, and is offering a masterclass on the complex art of negotiating a wine list at Angelus next Tuesday – a week ahead of Valentine’s Day. A fortnight ago, I was invited to be one of Tomasin's guinea pigs in a practice run before the main event. The evening began in a suitably civilised fashion with a glass of house Champagne Angelium – a tart 100% Pinot Noir, in the gunmetal grey drawing room festooned with inviting velvet chaise longues and bookcases lined with empty trophy bottles of Cheval Blanc and Chapoutier.

Moving downstairs to the chandelier-lit dining room in the cellars, Tomasin, dressed in a purple shirt and silver tie, launches into an impassioned monologue: "So many people are intimidated by wine, especially when they're presented with a list the size of an encyclopedia. But wine should be fun. That's what it's all about,” he insists. Presented with our starter – sashimi-like strips of marinated salmon with triangles of grapefruit and tangerine amid a crème fraìche and caviar garden, and an accompanying glass of aromatic, white flower and peach-filled Domaine Coste Viognier Grenache 2010, Tomasin stresses the importance of doing your homework by calling ahead or looking at the restaurant’s wine list online, so it already looks familiar when the sommelier thrusts the heaving tome into your sweaty palms.

As the nuggets of truth flow freely from Tomasin's lips, it all begins to feel very School for Scoundrels, with Thierry playing a French version of gap-toothed cad about town Terry Thomas. "Follow these simple rules gentleman, and you're guaranteed not to go home empty handed: engage the sommelier, but don't get too deep into conversation. Create a relationship but don't go too far," - quite. As the well rehearsed raconteur continues, our main appears: perfectly pink slices of Gressingham duck breast with garlic potato puree and Bayonne ham wrapped around lithe green beans. To match is a glass of the indecently affordable and delicious Château Civrac 2007 from the Côtes de Bourg.

Seductions school resumes with Tomasin describing sommeliers as "salesmen of pleasure" and suggesting that you can tell a lot about a woman's taste in wine by her taste in coffee. "Double espresso girls are likely to enjoy gutsy reds, while latte ladies will probably prefer a light white,” he offers. Debunking the myth that perfect food and wine matches exist, he calls for creativity – Sherry and soup anyone? Tomasin's approach to food pairing is unashamedly relaxed. He's a firm believer of picking a wine to suit your mood, rather than rigidly trying to marry the flavours on your plate with the aromas in your glass. To finish, Angelium NV makes a welcome reappearance, and is served with an achingly pretty rhubarb millefeuille, its lightly seared top recalling bonfire-toasted marshmallows.

As the petit fours do the rounds, Thierry tells us excitedly about his secret "love dictionary" – a guest book filled with musings from oft intoxicated diners. One of the entries from a female admirer involves melted chocolate and a desire to spread it. Moving swiftly on, he reminisces, almost wistfully, about his Le Gavroche days, and serving the Queen double G&Ts in the private dining room upstairs. “Her handbag was microscopic – barely big enough to house a lipstick,” he quips. If you want the Madonna anecdote, you'll have to book a spot at the dinner. Places are priced at £75 per person, which includes three courses and wines chosen by the scoundrel himself.