Picking restaurants for other people is always a nerve-wracking experience, especially if you have not been there before yourself. Picking restaurants for highly sophisticated Americans with refined palettes and high expectations is even more tricky. Fortunately my (probably now former) friends were not that discerning, but nonetheless I wanted to make a good impression. So it was back to the Michelin Guide, as we had a very specific set of geographical restrictions to deal with, and it turns out there are not that many places recommended in the Guide “out West”. My preferred choice in Clapham had zero availability (and on this particular Sunday, zero trains, so I am actually quite pleased we couldn’t get a table), but Josephine’s was suspiciously wide open.

I realised as soon as I set off (late) for dinner that it is in that transport dead zone in Chelsea which is mutually inconvenient for just about everyone. I can almost walk there from home as quickly as the District Line chugs vaguely in the same direction, but that cannot be blamed on the restaurant. I always get the feeling that the section from Gloucester Road down to the river is in some TfL bureaucrat’s “Too Hard” pile, and will forever remain that way. As I have sworn off Lime bikes and other satanic devices, (and I was not in the mood for a post-payday Uber), I ended up careering into the restaurant almost 15 minutes after the time I had booked for. Elvis Costello sang that he didn’t want to go to Chelsea, and I had a lot of sympathy at this point.

Fortunately these were old (in every sense) friends, so my shame was quickly subsumed by catch-up chatter and general bitching about everyone we knew in common. To the extent that the poor maître d’ was sent away more times than you felt he was happy with, particularly as there has been what might be called a little “misunderstanding” just before I had arrived.

The menu is, as you can see, pretty extensive, and very French. It features a great looking set menu, although we decided to order off the à la carte. This was partly driven by the food allergies suffered by one of our party, who had contacted the restaurant in advance to send a very clear list of “do’s and don’ts” almost a week before. Which, while it had breezed into (and seemingly out of) the kitchen at some point, had definitely not made it to the front of house.

Much kerfuffle ensued, with huffing and puffing (insert Gallic shrug here), but fortunately no blowing down of houses, and a resolution was reached, to everyone’s satisfaction, in fact so much so that I was ordered to give the review an extra star, just because they managed to produce tasty food within a limited ingredient range. While I think any decent chef should be able to whip up a feast from 2 turnips and a piece of feta cheese, it is remarkable how many can’t produce anything good at all, so an extra star it is (albeit averaged across the whole review…)

Bread is always the thing to look at. Especially on a Sunday. I am not, as every regular reader knows, a big fan of white carbs, but I feel it is my duty to overcome this in the search of good art and culinary perfection, and I’m pleased to say, it was excellent, tasty and crunchy.

My tête de veau, unfortunately, left a bit to be desired. Rather lacking in flavour. However the tomato salad (which came in a number of varieties, depending on your level of EpiPen dependence), was judged very good, and the pâté (which I really wish I’d had), was top end. I am a sucker for anything “snout to tail”, having greatly enjoyed deep fried pigs’ ears and calf’s brain in the past, but on this occasion I should have stuck to the basics.

I had the cod to follow, which was a little bland, but the butter sauce was rich and really added to the dish. The plaice was good (even in its modified state), but £42 is a bit toppy for a piece of fish with no sides. I did, however, enjoy the rabbit, partly because it allowed me to tell the story of how my mother used to pass it off on my sister by pretending it was chicken, but mainly because it was rich and creamy and very hearty. It’s also enough for a hungry family, and I was sad to have to leave some of it.

I was too full for pudding, but the kitchen had laid on strawberry sorbet specially (having severe food allergies does have an upside, apparently), and managed to stretch it out so all of my companions could have some (there was some slight grumbling over this from the front of house, but they must have felt happier when they charged us for three portions!). Everyone enjoyed it.

The evening was a great success, but I don’t think that was down to the food. I was pretty horrified at the bill, especially as only 2 glasses of house wine were drunk (measured against the bottle left on the table by a special ruler: nice touch), with everyone else drinking water. At £75 a head for what was basically a Temperance meeting, it could have been a lot better, and I don’t think it deserved the Michelin mention: I may have felt a little different had we had the set menu.

I liked the atmosphere, and I am a sucker for French food (albeit that reviewing is a pain, as I have to find a way of typing the bloody accents on an English keyboard), but I don’t think I’ll be back. If it wasn’t a difficult hour away (I could have got to Parrillan in Kings Cross in the same time, and that is the other side of town), I might go back for the set menu. But I do thank them for their efforts in making my friends feel comfortable, even if on occasion I wasn’t!

Conclusion

Overall Rating: 4/5

• Food: 4/5
• Drinks: 4/5
• Service: 4/5
• Atmosphere: 4.5/5
• Value for money: 3/5
• Would I go back?: Not “wild horses” territory, but probably not

Josephine: https://josephinebistro.com/