The Pieologist's Assault on London - Part III: Rules Restaurant, 34 Maiden Lane, Covent Garden

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One day, Sports was worn out by a particularly intense and prolonged bout of shopping and decided to opt for a bit of R&R...at least that's what I think it was. Maybe she just had the shits with me after a couple of weeks' solid one-on-one (hey, I'm a lot for anyone to handle). 

Either way, I had a couple of hours to myself while she decompressed. So I did what any professional pie eater would do; I followed the advice of a helpful cabbie and went in search of a pie and a drink.

The helpful cabbie in question was Steve Dunn, and apart from pointing out all the sights as we passed them, pointed me in the direction of several excellent 'foodie' destinations such as the Borough Markets, Pieminster Pies, and Rules: the oldest restaurant in London. It was frequented by Charles Dickens & Edward VII...and shortly the Pieologist.

http://rules.co.uk/

So I made a call, secured a table, and wandered down the road towards Covent Garden with the sun on my face and a song in my heart. The door was opened for me by a waistcoated, top-hatted doorman and I began to get the feeling that I was in for something special.

The exterior facade

The restaurant is proper old school. It's *that* old school, that you couldn't even call it old skool (too modern). It's all brass rails and velvet drapes and oil paintings. The waitress told me that a scene from the new Bond film, Spectre was shot at table 9. It doesn't get more British than that, unless you're dining at Buck House with a Corgi humping your leg under the dinner table.

A scene from Spectre was shot in this room

Upstairs: the 'bar' area

Once seated, I checked the drinks menu, and as I was feeling a little frisky I ordered some sort of Campari-based cocktail with a frozen blackberry in it. Christ knows why. But it cleared the sinuses and sharpened up the palate and gave me something to slurp while I perused the menu.

Ooo-err, fancy!

Once again, sorry for the angle

Not that I needed to look - Steve the cabbie had already reliably informed me that the steamed steak and kidney suet pie - with the optional oyster, guv - was what I'd be going there for; so my decision had been made the day before.

So I ordered that with a glass of Chateauneuf du Pape to wash it down...as you do in a posh gaff, and struck up a conversation with the chap at the next table - who turned out to be John S. from Bulimba, who was over there teaching the Poms how to build a proper rail network like ours.

The pie was served with a silver jug of gravy & Paris mash. Much to my surprise the optional oyster was presented in its shell alongside the pie, rather than inside it as I had anticipated - perhaps because Steve and I had gotten sidetracked talking about carpetbag steaks. The oyster was covered in a dry-crumb of parsley and bread crumbs and baked.

The pie itself was large in size, temperature was perfect, and it was filled with LOTS of meat - flaky like pulled brisket with big chunks of kidney. The meat was moist and fork-tender, and the gravy delicious and plentiful.

Just look at that chunk of kidney...

I hadn't had a suet pastry before, and I quite liked it. Not that I prefer it to a short crust / puff pastry pie that we're used to here; but the flavour and texture was a bit like steamed bread: moist and doughy and bready...quite heavy and filling, but in a good way.

Now that's meaty!

The heaviness made it into a substantial meal, particularly with the side dish of spectacularly buttery mash which I doused in gravy and shoveled into my face whilst making inadvertent nom nom nom sounds.

It was a great pie and a lovely experience, but eating in London rarely comes cheap, and my lunch-for-one bill weighed in at a hefty £54. Factor in an outrageous exchange rate, and we're looking at about $116 !! (gratuity thoughtfully included).

Still, I enjoyed it so much that I couldn't possibly award anything less than a 9/10. The restaurant, pie, wine, and gorgeous French waitress were all top-drawer, what. In fact the only thing I can deduct a point for is the cost...not that I didn't receive value for money; but that I couldn't afford to eat there every week.

Oh, and I stopped in here for a pint on the way home - apparently it's Wills and Harry's local in Mayfair. They weren't there, but it was another beautiful English pub in the backstreets of London. Guy Ritchie (Madge's husband) used to own it, apparently.