This was the first time I’d ever eaten in a restaurant that describes itself as ‘a laboratory’. The Vincent rooms is/are part of Westminster Kingsway College, a place where diners act as willing guinea pigs for student chefs and waiters. Now, when I go to the dentist I prefer to see a person who has been fully trained and has a few years’ experience under his or her belt. But food is different and I thought it might be nice to visit this place and check out the ever-changing menu of excellent sounding food, devised by the student chefs. After all, that Jamie Oliver fellow was trained here.

This is from the Vincent Rooms’ useful website:

Tomorrow’s chefs will be cooking for you; this is your chance to spot up-and-coming stars. At lunchtime The Brasserie and Escoffier Room act as a ‘laboratory’ during term-time when our advanced level students devise and cook varied and high quality dishes under the watchful eye of our team of chef-lecturers.

The place itself is obviously a training establishment, with students sprinkled around the entrance chatting as you come in. The place has about it something of the atmosphere of a thirties school but the welcome was warm and efficient, even though I thought L had booked and she thought I had. Never mind, we were divested and swished into a large school-hall type room (The Brasserie I presumed) where the sun was pouring through the huge windows. The nicely set tables are widely spread and it would take an expert to get a paper dart to cover the distance from one end of the room to the other. Big and square is the feeling. The smaller Escoffier Room is more cosy and dinnerish (I peeked in after lunch, interrupting what appeared to be a post-prandial student assessment).

The menu was varied, a mixture of French-inspired contemporary English stuff, with a good range, from game to fish. I had haddock chowder to start and poussin with all kinds of trimmings. I left the wine ordering to L who went for a non-threatening red Burgundy. The sweet and young waitress was clearly at the foot of her learning curve and had trouble removing the foil from the bottle. But they are alert here and soon a slightly older and more accomplished chap arrived and gave her a lesson on the spot, whipping off the foil in a twinkling. ‘Just put that bit in your pocket,’ he said, before handing the bottle back for opening. Next problem was a complete non-acquaintance with corkscrews, coupled with left-handedness. She got it in part of the way but was struggling, at which point the gimlet eye of an older-person-in-charge settled on her and she was quietly asked to take it over to a side table. She came back with it, somewhat red-faced and poured it out. I am NOT complaining. This is a teaching place and I found the whole episode charming. I wish this young lady every success with the thousands of bottles I hope she will open in future.

The rest of the meal went OK except they insisted on serving the wine and then taking the bottle away, a practice I dislike. Finally L said, ‘Naaaooo! Leave it on the table!’

Puds looked really good but we didn’t want one.

All in all, a fascinating experience. Food is of a very acceptable standard (if you don’t mind small portions and artistic arrangement). Its precise style probably depends on the chef you get. But, and here comes my main moan, the food, as Perry often says, didn’t arrive nearly hot enough: all my stuff was luke warm. In the case of the finely shredded fried potato (I think it was), this meant that it was almost inedible. Smallish portions, artistically arranged, tend to maximise surface area open to the elements = risk of cold food. This problem needs looking at but is a fault common to many places.

Lacking a little in atmosphere and sophistication of waitering, the Vincent Rooms might put people off who don’t want to dine out during someone’s lessons, but the cooking is good and prices not bad for central London. Probably a really good destination for a big group of relaxed people. Booking advisable.

Recommended. PERRY STALSIS 2008.