Menier Chocolate Factory

Menier Chocolate Factory
53 Southwark Street, London SE1
0845 345 1723

Without wanting to come across as the kind of critic who goes to a restaurant armed with preconceptions, I have something to admit. I really didn’t expect to enjoy The Chocolate Factory as much as I did.

The place – a former chocolate factory, once owned by a bloke called Menier, funnily enough – is one of those hybrids that seems to be springing up everywhere. It’s a bar! It’s a theatre! It’s a restaurant! Generally speaking, in a town where even a dual role such as the gastropub seems to mean “we’re neither one thing nor the other but at least this way we can charge you £10 for bangers and mash”, taking on a theatre as well seemed a trifle ambitious. I also had a suspicion that the area – Borough market meets a lot of media places – would guarantee a crowd of braying fellow diners. And look, here’s a table of obnoxious, giggling “meeja” girlies to test the room’s acoustics to the full. Oh joy… Plus it also slung it down with rain, meaning we were soaked by the time we got there. Not that I’m blaming Menier for that, even if he does sound suspiciously French…

So, wet, annoyed, and filled with dread was how I arrived. Full, relaxed and very happy was how I left. The transformation may look like a miracle but the explanation is actually very simple: The Menier Chocolate Factory is a just very good at what it does.

The space is a lovely one – lots of restful browns and wood, soft lighting and some impressively gargantuan lanterns – and, despite the early acoustic problem, things soon settled down so I could hear my companion. All other elements – such as the Ikea cutlery – are no-nonsense. Staff are friendly and efficient, the wine list is good, with some sensibly priced by-the-glass options, and the menu is an admirably straightforward list of brasserie classics with the odd twist. In fact, the only pretension visible was from some of the diners. Incidentally, if you’re reading chaps, those yellow glasses look stupid on anyone over 25…

So, to the food. Pan fried langoustine, with garlic butter and celeriac remoulade (£5) were a little on the small side and deemed okay, although they were suffering by comparison. My companion had just come back from Morocco where she’d been eating such things as they came out of the net so hardly surprising a London variation didn’t match those exacting standards. Oh, the perils of dining with a jetsetter…

No such complaints re Oriental duck rillettes (£6.50) though, a logical extension of the French and Oriental relationship with the bird. The rillette was coarse and gamey, but given a good kick up the tailfeathers by a hearty dose of coriander. One of the more basic but more satisfying fusion dishes I’ve come across recently.

Mains range from the predictable – the (admittedly good looking) burger and expensive bangers and mash – to more surprising dishes, such as a tomato and beetroot tarte tatin or grilled squid. Perhaps due to the damp weather, we pitched for comfort: risotto of smoked chicken and baby leeks (£10) for her, chargrilled rib eye (£15) for me. Risotto was generous, flavoursome and with a little bite. The steak came from an apparently happy, unstressed cow and was suitably matched with a potato, horseradish and rocket gratin plus a glass or Montepulciano Fossalta 2003 (a snip at £3.50).

There’s only one way to finish in a restaurant called the Chocolate Factory and chocolate espreso tart with crème fraiche and a brownie with pecans and cherries (both £5) did not disappoint. Both had good depth of flavour and the zip of coffee and bite of the cherries took off any possible sickly edge the puddings may have carried.

While I can’t comment on the efficiency of the theatre, the crowds pouring out suggested that element works well. I can though vouch for the Chocolate Factory’s status as a restaurant. In short, it’s as good as you’ll find at this price range.

Rating: 3/5

Food: 3/5
Service: 3/5
Atmosphere: 3/5
Value for money: 3/5

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