Tue–Sat 6.30pm–10.30pm
Sometimes when dining at a restaurant that likes to think of itself as upmarket I feel like the butt of a bad joke. Who but only the most frivolous and gullible would willingly pay so much for such a measly meal? Well, I have been educated. Not only is the art of a fabulous restaurant to provide wonderful food in an enjoyable atmosphere, but it also to curb the instinctive human desire to stuff one’s face. I want to be given just the right amount to feel contentedly satisfied. Marco’s looks fabulous with mirrored walls, clean white table cloths, candid camera celebrity portraits on the walls and a backlit bar that you could imagine James Bond propping up. The music is easy listening pop which keeps things from seeming too pretentious or stuffy and the menu makes the mouth water. It seems to have it all but gluttony precipitates its downfall.
The starters were delicious: a very simple Fresh Cornish Crab (£14.50), both the white and brown meat had a wonderfully subtle hint of the sea and were served with a roll of crisp bread and mayonnaise. The terrine of foie gras en gelée de Sauternes (£15.50) was rich and smooth and everything you could possibly have hoped for, but would have had difficulty fitting through a letter box it was so big. From a choice of wild halibut steaks, tuna steaks, Scottish beef and grilled meat (nothing for a true veggie) we chose the fillet steak served with grilled tomatoes, fried onion rings and bérnaise sauce (£28). The steak was good, but didn’t blow me away. The tomato was the best bit. My guest went for the roast poulet noir with chipolata, roasting juices and bread sauce (£16.50) hoping for an interesting Marco PW take on the traditional roast lunch. He got a traditional roast lunch and a lot of it: half a chicken squatted on his plate surrounded by an army of accompaniments. I thought he must have asked to supersize his meal while I wasn’t listening. It was also no better than I would have expected at home.
By this point I was dreading having to subject my overstretched stomach to a third onslaught, but we powered through. The We Ticklemore, a hard goat’s cheese, with quince jelly and biscuits (£7.50); three saucer-sized slices, the thought of which haunt me to this day. My desert was a truly superb lemon tart (£6.50), but by then there was no way that I could manage more than a few spoonfuls.
I would guess that this Stamford Bridge restaurant is designed to impress the guests of executive box owners who don’t want to pay high prices for small portions. The decor, MPW’s name and the food are impressive, but give me haute cuisine portions any day. If I return I would stick to a starter and desert; they were far superior to the mains and won’t leave you feeling like a force-fed foie gras goose.
Meal for two, with wine, around £130.
