Jay Rayner 

Hard act to follow

After an appetiser of blood and guts on the big screen, you'll need a place to unwind. Jay Rayner takes refuge at the Hanover.
  
  


There are some films that make for perfect pre-eating-out entertainment and some that do not. Tampopo, that hymn to the art of the noodle, is a great dinner-date movie. The Silence of the Lambs is not. To the list of those films that come under the heading, 'I'm not really very hungry any more, funnily enough,' can now be added Dead Babies, a vivid adaptation of a Martin Amis novel about the lost weekend from hell, featuring many fine shots of blood, guts and other bodily fluids which, under health and safety regulations, can not be repeated so close to the mention of foodstuffs.

Needless to say, it was an advance screening of Dead Babies (due for release in October) that I saw before eating dinner at the Hanover Wine Bar and Grill. My companion was the actor Andy Nyman, whose character, Keith Whitehead, suffers extreme indignities for almost the entire 99 minutes of the film. There's something curious about breaking bread with a chap you've just seen being roundly violated by two large men before being tied naked to a tree and then hosed down at dead of night.

The Hanover Wine Bar and Grill was a rather good choice of post- Dead Babies destination, for being nothing like it. All they shared was a certain vintage. Amis's novel was published in the 1970s and there is more than a whiff of that decade about the Hanover: paper tablecloths, posters of Paris, bare floorboards and Georgie Fame on the stereo. Think Robin's Nest without the one-armed Irishman and you're pretty much there, save for one detail: the wine list.

The Hanover is part of the tiny empirette belonging to Don Hewitson. The wines are listed in a laminated booklet that sits on every table. The entries come complete with Don's tasting notes: what direction the wind was blowing when the grapes were picked, how he met the people who made the wine, whether he is godparent to any of their children. That sort of thing. Or at least that's what it feels like.

In the triumvirate of wine, atmosphere and food, the food comes third at the Hanover; yet it is not so bad as to be a reason for avoiding the place. It is, most simply put, bistro fare that occasionally promises a little more than it delivers. At present they are running a 'grape dinner' menu which, if you are a complete alcoholic, could prove a steal. For £20 you get a choice of three courses plus an unlimited supply of one of three wines. Even though I knew I could not do it justice, I gave it a try.

For my unending wine, I chose the Domaine de Jarras Rosé 'Gris de Gris'. Light and fresh, it was all but overwhelmed by my starter, a terrine of wild boar and wild mushrooms. The terrine was a hulking affair, solid and meaty without any social graces, but it did the job. Andy had tomato and mozzarella salad, then set about proving he really had been only acting in the film. He used both a knife and fork to eat it with, rather than his hands, as Keith Whitehead might have done. It was, he declared, fine.

My main course, which came with a naughty supplement of £2, was described as an open Australian sirloin sandwich. It was a pretty straight-up piece of beef, accompanied by more than passable chips and a light herb butter. Andy's Indian spiced fish and chips was one of those dishes of unrealised promise. A little cumin and garam masala had been chucked into the batter; otherwise it was bog-standard fish and chips. To finish, we shared a chocolate and rum truffle cake - the kind of thing they would have served at Robin's Nest.

All of this may sound a bit gloomy, but it shouldn't. The Hanover is a gentle place, with a cracking wine list, where I suspect you'll rarely have trouble finding a table. Just don't expect fireworks from the kitchen.

• The Hanover Wine Bar and Grill, 25 Hanover Square, London W1 (020 7408 0935). Grape dinner, including service and unlimited wine, £44 for two.

 

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