James Pembroke pays The Petersham in Richmond and Soho's notorious Andrew Edmunds a visit
The Petersham, Richmond, Surrey
On 26th April, it was Jeremy Lewis’s funeral, in Mortlake. Eleven of us were there to say farewell to him in his wicker casket, which had a copy of The Oldie on top. ‘He hadn’t read this issue,’ a neighbour whispered. ‘He’ll need something to read upstairs. He’s on the front cover, after all.’
We then retreated to his house to gorge on his favourite Soreen malt loaf, before heading to the Petersham hotel for an early dinner. It was here that Jeremy hosted one of his inspiring memoir-writing courses, the equivalent of being given a golf lesson by Arnold Palmer.
We sat down at our table, marvelling at the bucolic view of the river and Petersham Meadows, when the most extraordinary thing happened. The sunset was fairly blinding but I could make out a man in his sixties entering the dining room through the beams of light. He was large of frame and was wearing faded, red trousers and a seersucker jacket, and bore the shy smile of a prep school boy who has been allowed out for his mother’s birthday dinner.
His angelic expression grew more awkward as he walked past Jeremy’s daughter and me, whose jaws were on our knees at the sight of this apparition who was the spitting image of her wonderful dad. Jemima’s husband, Henry, was too busy ordering up magnums of wine to notice but Jemima and I cast not-so-furtive glances at this poor innocent, willing him to bellow ‘double portions of herring for everyone’, as Jeremy had demanded on an Oldie works outing to Bruges. A year later, he conceded they were disgusting. I’ve certainly never eaten a herring since.
The view of the river is sufficient reason to go but the food was excellent, too. They are offering dinner, bed and breakfast for £189 for two, on Sunday nights.
Andrew Edmunds, Soho, London W1
In my next life, I’m coming back as Andrew Edmunds, the proprietor of the eponymous restaurant and print shop in Lexington Street, and the last of the Georgians. I get to lead the life I have always wanted, browsing prints, tasting wine and proffering food.
The most seductive tables for two in London are on either side of the entrance door. Seated at these candle-lit window tables, one could fall in love with Rosa Klebb. And it wouldn’t cost much: a bottle of Andrew’s Chablis at just £32.50, some mussels with leeks and kohlrabi, followed by pigeon with beetroot, for under £25. All this thanks to the new chef, Chris Gillard.
The restaurant is on two small narrow floors – three if one includes the Academy Club, of which Jeremy was a member. The staff are all part of the show. It’s one of those institutions which it’s so easy to take for granted but we would all wail, were it to go. It’s truly unique, as Jeremy was.
The Petersham, Nightingale Lane, Richmond, Surrey, TW10 6UZ; www.petershamhotel.co.uk; 020 8940 7471. Three-course set menu for £26.95
Andrew Edmunds, 46 Lexington Street, London W1F 0LP; www.andrewedmunds.com; 020 7437 5708. Three courses for £30; bargain wine list.
