Because I’m vegetarian, I’m not sure I’d be willing to break my streak and succumb to a pig’s spleen, but I did enjoy reading about the quaint and sophisticated restaurant St. JOHN in the pages of The Fantastic Man, Autumn and Winter Issue Nº 8.
The meat-happy man behind this place is named Fergus Henderson. And he seems like the kind of man that you could have lunch with, and afterwards walk away with an understanding of something that you’d never even considered. He has a deep knowledge of meat. If you’re curious of how much, you should read his book Nose to Tail Eating. If I were a meat eater, I’d probably be more interested. Supposedly it tells you how to eat every part the pig, right down to the penis (I made that last part up.). He considers himself a modern day Diderot. And even though I haven’t met the man, his menu must be changing the way people think about meat. He was an early adopter of locovorism and he serves up the bizarre, old-fashioned cuts of the animal, such as pig’s trotters.
His appreciation of plating and the aura of the space where food is consumed made the read all the more interesting. This appreciation most likely came from his short stint in architecture, along with the teachings of his parents, who both practiced this art. He likes his wine glasses “utilitarian, not too high” so he uses club glasses with short stems. He’s adapted Proust’s pillow theory to the table: white paper over white table linens for maximum dining comfort. You’re not gonna find any of those Asian-inspired plates at St. John. In a very jolly manner, he mentions that these should be smashed on the floor.  

His style starts with oversized plate (round) shaped frames and a smile. His business practices involve zero yelling and he doesn’t have a high tolerance for frowns. He mentions, “I believe in a happy kitchen. Happy animal, happy carcass, chefs who are happy so they cook happily.” Like I said earlier, I’m vegetarian, but whenever I’m on St. John Street in London, you better believe I’m gonna take an hour and have a glass or two of eau de vie pruneaux and an Eccles cake with a side of Lancashire cheese.

Because I’m vegetarian, I’m not sure I’d be willing to break my streak and succumb to a pig’s spleen, but I did enjoy reading about the quaint and sophisticated restaurant St. JOHN in the pages of The Fantastic Man, Autumn and Winter Issue Nº 8.

The meat-happy man behind this place is named Fergus Henderson. And he seems like the kind of man that you could have lunch with, and afterwards walk away with an understanding of something that you’d never even considered. He has a deep knowledge of meat. If you’re curious of how much, you should read his book Nose to Tail Eating. If I were a meat eater, I’d probably be more interested. Supposedly it tells you how to eat every part the pig, right down to the penis (I made that last part up.). He considers himself a modern day Diderot. And even though I haven’t met the man, his menu must be changing the way people think about meat. He was an early adopter of locovorism and he serves up the bizarre, old-fashioned cuts of the animal, such as pig’s trotters.

His appreciation of plating and the aura of the space where food is consumed made the read all the more interesting. This appreciation most likely came from his short stint in architecture, along with the teachings of his parents, who both practiced this art. He likes his wine glasses “utilitarian, not too high” so he uses club glasses with short stems. He’s adapted Proust’s pillow theory to the table: white paper over white table linens for maximum dining comfort. You’re not gonna find any of those Asian-inspired plates at St. John. In a very jolly manner, he mentions that these should be smashed on the floor.  

His style starts with oversized plate (round) shaped frames and a smile. His business practices involve zero yelling and he doesn’t have a high tolerance for frowns. He mentions, “I believe in a happy kitchen. Happy animal, happy carcass, chefs who are happy so they cook happily.” Like I said earlier, I’m vegetarian, but whenever I’m on St. John Street in London, you better believe I’m gonna take an hour and have a glass or two of eau de vie pruneaux and an Eccles cake with a side of Lancashire cheese.

Filed ↓ aperitif food London meat
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