“Mum, this is so delicious. No offence, but I think it’s even better than yours.” So said my 11-year-old daughter Natasha between greedy mouthfuls of succulent beef rump, Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes et al. As she paused to wipe the gravy trickling down her chin, I gave her my most scathing look, but my darling daughter just burst out laughing, before adding salt to my wound with: “But come on Mum, you’ve got to admit?"
Grudgingly, as I savoured my unbelievably moist Goosnargh chicken slathered in bread sauce, I secretly did, but I was blowed if I was going to give up my self-appointed accolade of Queen of the Sunday Roast with out a bit of a fight. “Maybe my cauliflower cheese has a bit more tang to it?” I enquired half pleadingly. But my husband and son weren’t playing ball either, being far too busy digging in to their own overloaded platefuls. Okay Treadwell’s you win, I thought, mopping up delicious juices with a fork-full of creamy savoy cabbage, complete with crispy bacon.
Ah the joys of a perfectly cooked Sunday roast (didn’t Nicole Kidman name her eldest daughter in honour of this fine British tradition?), and Tredwell’s undoubtedly has it nailed. But perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised as it is the latest addition to Marcus Wareing’s burgeoning gastronomic empire, albeit one that’s far more casual and child-friendly than his more grand, 'ta-dah' kind of offerings.
Situated in Seven Dials (Upper St Martin’s Lane to be precise), the restaurant is amusingly named after the butler, who incidentally 'didn’t do it', in the Agatha Christie thriller, The Seven Dials Mystery. The building Tredwell’s occupies has all the sophistication and elegance of that bygone era, with lots of racing green tile work, long antique mirrors and leather-clad banquettes, but with an outer casing and stairwell providing a more industrial feel. Set over three floors and with seating for 130, it certainly is a colossus, but the service felt suitably intimate and very attentive on our visit.
We had a supremely comfy booth towards the back of the room on the third floor which proved to be the ideal spot for people watching, enjoying the views and supping on our aperitifs. The children, meanwhile, took out the obligatory gadgets with the strict instructions that they were to be put away as soon as the food arrived. Cautious not to overload ourselves we’d opted for snacks to start, sharing olives, feta and tomatoes along with courgette fritters accompanied by pine nut butter, all of which were devoured at an unseemly rate.
Thankfully, our caution paid off, with appetites fully intact for the star of the show, and despite the fact that the children had only reluctantly agreed to have kids’ size portions, ultimately they were very glad they did as they were more than satiated!
With just a soupçon of space left for dessert, we decided to all share the warm chocolate, salted caramel, chocolate cornflakes – an intriguing sounding pudding that managed to be both deliciously decadent and comfortingly nursery-like at the same time. Suffice to say it was gone in seconds.
Our meal complete, we stumbled out into a cold winter’s afternoon, a stark contrast to the warmth and hospitality we had just experienced. As we ambled down the street I made a secret vow to myself… the next time either my husband or children say they fancy a roast, I know exactly what I will suggest. With food like Tredwell’s, I’m happy to relinquish my crown.
For reservations and enquiries call 0203 764 0840 or visit www.tredwells.com