Three prawns are lightly stuffed with good goat cheese and leaves of spinach for colour, then beautifully wrapped in a brittle nest of shredded filo. The presentation is minimalistic, three prawns on a plate, nothing showy or fussy. And it's Good. It's nice to eat at that rare place that lets the food speak for itself, without any insistent screaming presentation.
Similar treatment for the ruby coloured duck breast, very tender and juicy slices edged by a chubby layer of flavourful skin. They're flayed out, resting against a great piece of pumpkin bread with smokey grill marks and a natural pumpkin sweetness to complement the duck, along with some light pan juices for added moisture and savoury flavours. There is understated flair here, presenting (rather salty) greens and small potato cubes in a hollowed out and roasted pumpkin. Clever but not smart alecky. Nothing fussy again.
Fairly enjoyable bordeaux by the glass (sorry, forgot producer and vintage); warm tannins and well balanced black fruit, with what I thought was a medicinal hint of ginseng.
The generous chocolate souffle is very well conceived. Instead of being aggressive with chocolate, restraint makes for a light, fluffy souffle, a delightfully gentle interior. Only quibble is that the sides of the souffle are too thin; I prefer a tiny bit of crispy cakey texture to contrast the cloud-like insides. Too make up for the lightness, a heavy lava-slow chocolate sauce comes into play, full of gravity, the immensity of chocolate. A little scoop of fairly good vanilla ice cream on the side, sitting on petals of wafery cookie.