This is the meal I’ve most been anticipating. I left a bit of the budget aside to treat Hazel and George to dinner to say thank you for letting me stay once again, and was so excited by the menu at CUE. It more than lived up to it. We realise, on arrival, from the aroma that hits us and the open kitchen we walk past on our way to our table, that everything on this menu has been smoked and grilled. I love it when a restaurant settles on one way of doing things and demonstrates all the ways that can work. We go, just to be annoying, for the 9 course menu rather than the 10 course menu (no langoustines for us) but instead add on the “extra” course - why that’s not just a third option I don’t know, but I’m not complaining. Wine pairing, natch. A richly cheesey curd and melon cracker of an amuse bouche starts us off strong, before a palette cleanser of sorts of an onion broth with split peas and spring onion, light but flavourful and a delightful complement to the cheese. A small, tender parcel of sea bass in a white asparagus and bergamot sauce is our first proper course, preceding a smoked broccoli and mustard leaf salad, tossed ourselves. Maybe my favourite course comes next, a fillet of trout, barely adorned with a strip of apple leather and a blackcurrant gel, but otherwise standing proudly on its own, buttery and flakey. They throw an angular sourdough baguette at us with an extrusion of hibiscus-infused butter, and make the mistake of telling us we can have more if we want - we do, and we do. They allow us a pause in proceedings to catch our breath, then it’s straight into a coquelette, served as both a yakitori skewer - salty and crisp on top, honey-sweet on the bottom - and then on celeriac with black sesame oil. Here comes the extra course - ex-dairy cow, a gorgeous but reasonably sized slab of it, split between the three of us, rare on the top with a slight crisp sear at the bottom, served with a divine beurre blanc. It’s exceptional, and perfectly apportioned. To move us towards the desserts, a kefir yoghurt acts as a further cleanser with a carrot oil offering a touch of savoury to cut through. A crisp, charred almond croissant with almond ice cream is served, understandably, with wet towels, and devoured in almost a bite. A small chocolate and cherry bite finishes off the proper courses, with, god bless them, a canele as a petit four. The wine pairings were all perfect, and explained with aplomb. Not a single dud moment amongst the menu, and a real thrill. We’re presented with an almond frangipane cookie to take home for the morning after, and a table has been arranged for us downstairs in their cocktail bar. Well, it would be rude not to, wouldn’t it?