When's the last time you had roasted red leg partridge, or saw it on a menu? How about filet and shoulder of wild hare with chestnuts? Perhaps whole roast crown of pheasant for two with dates and bacon? These are every day items at Rules, London's oldest restaurant. I missed their famous grouse because the season ended Dec. 10.
And of course there's a lip-smacking version of rib of British beef aged for 28 days (for two) with huge, crisp Yorkshire puddings and divine, creamy dauphinoise potatoes.
Rules, you see, is about heritage. It's quintessentially stiff-upper-lip, old-school British.
The interior is all red velvet, dark wood, brass, leather, overstuffed pillows, mirrors, etchings, marble fireplaces and antlers. The special Christmas decor is Victorian overload, with garlands and baubles and even pheasant feathers. A trio of Santa hats hangs above our heads from the points that were the former glory of a massive stag.
Upstairs is a posh bar with more dark wood, red velvet, leather with decorative tacks, mirrors, and brass. There are sconces and lamps trimmed with red fringe. It's how I imagine an exclusive 19th century men's club might have looked when the sun never set on the British Empire. You can easily picture Dickens or Churchill puffing a cigar or knocking back a whisky. Rules opened in 1798 and has been privately owned by just three families ever since. Dickens, in fact, had his own regularly reserved table.
I must say I enjoyed my first partridge immensely. The dark meat was similar to a Cornish hen, the one small bird that's widely available in the states. The fresh-cut waffle crisps (potato chips) and buttery braised savoy cabbage were delicious. Plus, the red wine jus, currant jelly and bread sauce added a festive touch.
Bread sauce is a particularly British holiday favorite for poultry. It's milk infused with clove-studded onions, bay, nutmeg and thickened with day-old white bread and butter. Simple ingredients that harken back to the frugal days of Oliver Twist.
But as I poured it on my partridge breast from Rules' sterling silver gravy boat, I'm sure the ghost of Dickens gave an approving smile over my shoulder.
This article appears in Dec 24-30, 2015.