A city institution is now, thankfully, serving faultless food, even if the interior leaves a little to be desired says Katherine MacAlister

I’d avoided The Macdonald Randolph like the plague since my last visit, when the food was cold and the service frostier. It was all pomp and circumstance and no substance, the formality taking precedence over the meal.

Oxford’s most famous hotel, a bastion of respectability and tradition, whose name is as synonymous with our city as Morse or Alice In Wonderland, was languishing, culinary-wise, looking ever backwards in time rather than forwards into the future, like an aged aunt.

Regardless of my experience, no one wants to eat food like that any more, even out-of-towners who don’t know any better, so you’ll be pleased to hear the message has finally got through, the era of flambéed pancakes and cloches thankfully being laid to rest. Instead Simon Bradley rode into the ring, former executive head chef of East Lodge in the Peak District and Callow Hall, where he gained three and two AA Rosettes respectively, via the Ritz Hotel in Paris, Le Manoir Aux Quat’ Saisons in Oxfordshire and Odette’s Restaurant in Primrose Hill, London.

His pedigree is established, then, and the intention is clear, expectations are high and a third rosette in the offing. In short, the gloves are off, but it’s not an easy brief — to update the menu subtly and make his mark, while keeping the ageing regulars happy.

Oxford Mail:
More comfort: The Morse Bar

And yet Simon is delivering on every level — the meal we enjoyed there was faultless; his finesse, skill, expertise, understanding of food and dexterity a delight to see and taste. We dined like kings in the Randolph’s dreary Dining Room, with a capital ‘D’, the service being efficient, the food faultless. Yes, Simon was a wise choice.

Sadly, though, his cooking can’t redeem the decor which needs a similar makeover because Simon’s wonderfully delicate, crafted food cannot redeem or disguise the antiquated atmosphere or dated furnishings. It may be a wonderfully historic room with high ceilings and portraits staring down from every wall, but the curtains and carpets absorb every ounce of fun and suffocate the entire dining experience.

Something more contemporary, such as the Old Parsonage’s recent makeover, or even its previous one, would be good, something stately but elegant. The patterned carpets and heavy curtains are not only last year but they bring with them a distinctly corporate feel that sucks out any attempt at intimacy, like a particularly thirsty mosquito. All this is only exemplified by the strange concertinaed red curtain at the back which looks as if it’s about to be raised to reveal a flurry of can-can girls, or an ongoing poker game. The refinement of, say, the drawing room or the Morse Bar are much more fitting.

Decor aside then, I’ll get back to Simon’s exemplary food, the stoically British menu, wrapped in a tartan kilt for the Macdonald’s sake, meant that all the old faithfuls were on the menu from John Dory to Scottish beef, Highland lamb, fish and chips, rabbit and guinea fowl, nothing Her Majesty would find alarming. And yet each dish has Simon’s print on it as firmly as if he’d branded them himself with an iron.

Oxford Mail:
Simon says: Simon Bradley

Fish and chips, for example, is now a salt cod mousse with marinated lemon sole, beer batter wafer, cucumber and chives, while the John Dory is steamed and comes with Scottish langoustines, pickled celery, Jersey royals, langoustine ketchup, mangetout and celeriac purée, bringing it kicking and screaming into the 21st century while maintaining its dignity, like Queen Victoria being introduced to a bathing machine.

The soup of the day was a startlingly fresh gazpacho with pickled cucumbers, salad leaves and heritage tomatoes, rather than anything more traditional such as consommé or vichyssoise, and the magnificent John Ross award- winning smoked salmon came in beautiful, fat, smooth, slivers of fish, the flavours allowed to speak for themselves, served simply with mustard, capers, horseradish and shallots.

After much deliberation, the risotto with parsley, spinach, truffle oil and sautéed wild mushrooms seemed more of a summery option than some of the other mains, and as fragrant and silky smooth as it sounded, while the wild turbot came with crab mayonnaise, cucumbers, Cos lettuce, new potatoes and crab bisque, another brilliant take on a classic, and as such well received.

The dessert was equally as memorable. We ate it in silence with our eyes closed. Hers was simply called Chocolate — dark chocolate shortbread, caramel truffle, chocolate mousse, marinated cherries and Kirsch chantilly, mine the more Boycie-sounding Marjolaine — a dreamy concoction of almond meringue, pistachio cream, caramelised vanilla custard, raspberry spherification, raspberry sorbet and rosewater, which just melted in the mouth in a floral haze of sugary scented wonder.

“That was faultless, from start to finish,” my friend agreed, adding as we hailed a cab — “and I’d come back tomorrow as long as they burn the carpets and curtains first.”

The prices are equally as impressive, three courses for £44.95 or two courses for £39.95, including coffee and petit fours. Yes, The Randolph is back in business.

Oxford Mail:
Heavy going: The dining room

Macdonald Randolph Hotel
Beaumont Street, Oxford, OX1 2LN 
01865 256400
macdonaldhotels.co.uk

Opening times: Breakfast 7-10am (Mon-Sat), 8am-10.30am (Sun); Lunch 12-3pm (Sat), 12.30-3pm (Sun); Dinner 6-10pm (Fri-Sat), 6.30-10pm (Sun-Thurs)
Parking: Can be booked
Key personnel: Simon Bradley, former executive head chef of the acclaimed East Lodge and Callow Hall
Make sure you try the... Celebration afternoon tea — £35 with champagne, the traditional full afternoon tea — £25 or the cream tea — £17
In ten words: Finally food to write home about ... decor needs to follow