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'I don't doubt the kitchen's ability and commitment, but I'm far from wowed. Perhaps I've gone with too high hopes'
Gwyneth Paltrow celebrated her 40th birthday recently at the River Cafe. Why should we care? Well, I care: it's testimony to the continued relevance of this seminal restaurant that it can still drag the A list all the way to deepest, darkest Hammersmith. Blossoming in the backwaters since 1987, rarely has any restaurant had such an impact – not only for its alumni and legion of imitators, but on the way real people eat and shop and cook. Ever been surprised by the ease with which you can now buy the likes of pecorino romano, aged balsamic vinegar, squid ink or carnaroli rice? You owe a debt to Ruth and Rose.
Some of us spend far too much time seeking a River Cafe clone that offers the nirvana without the pricetag penance, so I become stupidly over-excited when breathless tweets invoke thrilling comparisons about the new chef at Southwark's Table Cafe. So off I trot… right past the place. It's almost perversely lacking in street presence, as if to say, oh, find me if you must. Inside is a chic, communal-benched nouveau canteen where Cinzia Ghignoni's daily-changing menus read like the answer to a pilgrim's prayers.
Like the River Cafe, the Table started life as a kind of refectory for an architectural practice – perhaps it's one of Allies & Morrison's hornrimmed employees who comes in, orders "pan-fried" pecorino primo sale and a glass of vino, props up his iPad and grazes away happily. We're not so restrained. That toasted fresh, salty cheese with a pale, granular fig compote is a sweet-savoury masterstroke, a terrific partner for house-baked sourdough: thick, crunchy, just-charred. More sourdough comes topped with spicy, spreadable nduja (look, I don't go searching for nduja; it just keeps jumping on to my plate) with white Borretane onions: saucer-shaped, sweet and roasted into jamminess.
All the mod-Italian signifiers are present and correct: one or two beautiful ingredients loafing on an otherwise unadorned plate; licks of good oil; studied rusticity; name-droppable headscratchers such as puntarelle, misticanza, frigitelli. But from here on in they don't quite pull it off. Gnocchi with gorgonzola and hazelnuts reads like a contender for my desert island dish, but the dumplings are marooned in a lagoon of over-creamed, under-cheesed sauce in a very un-Italian way – odd, because Ghignoni clearly is the real thing. And the hazelnuts are chewy and untoasted, a bland, mimsy, textural note. Homemade gnocchi, though, so top marks for that.
With confit duck on dinky castelluccio lentils, both nutty pulses and bird are underseasoned and not salvaged by a last-ditch sprinkling of salmoriglio. Skin, rather than being papery-crisp, is flabby – tiny tweaks would have turned this from filler to killer. A fat octopus tentacle has been violently grilled, its poor, pale flesh Wicker Man-ed to near-oblivion, and its bed of peppers, again, lacking salt. And why are we served a totally collapsed pannacotta? Sure, it tastes good, but this delicate pudding is all about the creamy, mammary tremble, not a slump of sweet goo.
I don't doubt Ghignoni's ability and commitment: the open kitchen is a hive of activity – we watch bread being baked and what look like pumpkin gnocchi being prepared by hand. But I'm far from wowed. Perhaps I've gone with too high hopes. Damn you, Twitter.
Go without beating heart and clammy palms, though, and the Table Cafe has a lot going for it: homemade pasta; a clever, curiosity-packed winelist (grillo, garnatxa, verdeca; Austrian reds; methode Britannique sparklers), all available by the glass. They're big on sustainability, and have an arrangement with homeless charity St Mungo's for allotment-grown fruit and vegetables. It may not quite be up there with the Hammersmith Holy Grail, but the bills are a whole lot easier to countenance. So it shouldn't be hiding its light under a bushel.
• The Table Cafe, 83 Southwark Street, London SE1, 020-7401 2760. Open all week, 7.30am-5pm (8.30am-4pm Sat & Sun); dinner Thurs-Sat, 5.30-11pm (10.30pm Thurs). Three-course meal with drinks and service, around £40 a head.
Food 6/10
Atmosphere 6/10
Value for money 7/10