Telephone: 020 7481 3123
Address: St Katherine's Dock, London E1
Dinner for two, including wine and service, £100.
If you want to discover what a miserable bunch of old gits restaurateurs can be, try talking to them about Valentine's night. It is one of the great restaurant-going events of the year, so they should love it, shouldn't they? In reality, vast numbers will tell you they hate it. They will tell you it's a pain in the arse to have a completely full dining room, particularly one made up solely of tables for two. It means more work for the waiting staff who will be trying to service double the usual number of tables. What's more, every single one of those tables will be looking for this night to have the x-factor, that special something which turns it from a standard restaurant meal into a romantic experience worthy of the patron saint of lurve.
On this last point, I do have some sympathy with the restaurateurs. There's nothing better guaranteed to ruin a nice night out than high expectations. The only way is down. The fact is that the serviceable old bistro down the road can't suddenly become a leopard skin-clad love shack simply because of the date of the booking. Either a restaurant has a certain romance or it doesn't, and most don't.
Happily, London has just acquired one that really does have it, and by the bucket full. I will admit I am not usually a fan of concept restaurants, the attempt to squeeze a 'dining experience' into a setting that is ill-suited to it. But in the case of Lightship Ten, I am more than willing to make an exception. It is exactly what its name suggests: an antique lightship, built in Copenhagen in 1877, which saw service in the chill waters around Denmark at places such as Gedser Reef and Aalborg Bay. In 1943, it was seized by the Germans who positioned it just south of Anholt Knob (stop sniggering back there in the cheap seats) where it was the victim of unsuccessful British air raids. It remained in service until 1972. It has now been bought up and turned into a rather fine restaurant which is moored alongside the sleekly phallic yachts at St Katherine's Dock next to Tower Bridge. Presumably this means that if business doesn't work out here they can lift anchor, or whatever it is lightships do, and sale off to somewhere else.
Let's hope they never feel the need because this place really does have that extra special something. Within minutes of stepping aboard and into the top-deck bar my wife was swooning. 'It's fabulous,' Pat said, as the first slug of vodka began to take hold. 'It's just so beautiful.' She had a point: the upstairs bar, like the whole ship, is clad in varying vintages of wood and lit with honey shades that give it a particular glow. (A warning for anybody who suffers from serious motion sickness: you can experience a gentle swell.) The low-ceilinged dining room below is a beautiful use of space and light, so that it feels intimate without being claustrophobic. There are booths for two or four along both walls (sides? keels? hulls? What the hell do I know about boats?) as well as space for a larger party up in the bow.
Not that there was a larger party. In fact, there wasn't anybody. We were entirely alone. 'You have to make sure lots of people come here so it stays open so that we can come a lot,' Pat told me. I had my orders. Despite our splendid isolation - and it really did feel as though we might be adrift on the Kattegat Sea with only Anholt Knob beyond our porthole for company - the service was skilful and charming without being obtrusive.
As to the food it is modish French. Putting aside the quality for a moment - which is high - I confess I find it a little disappointing that such a unique setting does not have a more distinctive menu. Versions of the dishes served here can be found at myriad restaurants in London. But that is to criticise the menu for what it isn't rather than what it is. One of the things it happens to be is expensive. Starters are £10, main courses around £17. There is, however, a three-course evening menu at £23, including a glass of champagne, which is good value. If all the things on it were ordered individually, the same meal would cost £40. For economy's sake, we mixed and matched the carte and the set menu.
Pat began with a gratin of lobster. The sweet claw meat came on a pillow of mashed potato and with a beautiful crusty cream and cheese-based sauce flavoured with chives. I started with a fresh and clean timbale of crab and avocado with a sharp watercress sauce. For my main course, I had a perfectly roasted breast of Gressingham duck, served sliced and pink, which came with a heap of caramelised pumpkin and a dinky, and unadvertised confit duck's leg. Pat had a roast fillet of cod which came on creamed pearl barley, a lot like a risotto, and a lightly curried sauce with mussels. This reads, I think, like the kind of food served in grand hotel restaurants and it is really - the chef was most recently at the Dorchester - but it is done well. I finished with a perfect passion fruit crème brûlée. The wine list is both extensive and overly expensive with nothing below £17. Why they do this I don't know. Just half a dozen bottles below £15 can make a list look incredibly democratic. Happily, there is a good selection by the glass.
On Valentine's night there will be a special four-course menu. Although the price had not been decided upon as we went to print it probably won't be cheap. Then again, as the great Barry White has probably already said, there are sacrifices to be made for those special nights aboard the love boat. Or something like that.
Contact Jay Rayner on jay.rayner@observer.co.uk.
