The Delaunay

Some weekends, you just can’t make it to Vienna. You can’t make it to Prague, Budapest, or Berlin.  If you’re craving the sort of civility that tags along with an afternoon spent in a grand European cafe, then you could do much worse than spend some time at The Delaunay.

The Delaunay in Aldwych is the newest sibling to that elegant London stalwart; The Wolsley.

The space is divided into three. There’s the dining room; large and open, cosseted by white tablecloths and dark wooden accents. In here people are luxuriating over long lunches of schnitzels and goujons of plaice. It’s the sort of room where you want to book  in advance …

Baked gnocchi with meatballs, tomato and mozzarella

If gnocchi by themselves constitute a food hug, then this is closer to a smothering embrace.

It’s also an answer to both questions and crisis, from ‘what will we eat for dinner?’, through to ‘do you think I trade this spluttering body in for the 2013 model?’

It’s hard to pinpoint anything more comforting than the smell of roasting tomatoes and mozzarella sneaking out from behind an oven door. To me there are also few things more pleasing than the meditation of shifting pillows of gnocchi, tomatoes and baby-sized meatballs from plate, to fork, to teeth, until you come up empty.

There’s a joy that tags along both in making and eating this. …

Gnocchi, made from white beans

When I need true comfort from food, I turn to gnocchi. These pillow-shaped doughy bundles have shepherded me through many a trial.

Part of their soothing appeal is that in order to work well, gnocchi must be made by gentle hands. Bully them in the kneading or rolling and they’ll be as tough as a runaway teen. But if you carefully encourage as much air as possible into  boiled or roasted potatoes and keep the flour to a minimum and you’ll  be rewarded with soft, buoyant nuggets of starch.

Now here’s the problem. While I love potato gnocchi; particularly the faint sweetness that comes from Maris Piper potatoes- it doesn’t love me …