The bartender who made the Martinis with which we began our recent experience at Mere provided the perfect metaphor for the evening. The venue’s vodka or gin base of quinoa makes for an interesting talking point, but the assembly of the drink stressed aiming for a comfortable middle ground. In Mere’s view, Martini should be made neither too dry nor too wet. Put another way, Mere is full of good intention but never did quite enough to make the evening truly memorable or outstanding.
Last weekend’s trip was your reviewer’s third visit to the venue and his first since 2018. The décor and the formula remain unchanged – not that this at all a bad thing. Mere offers fine dining in an informal and contemporary setting with a price tag that is not quite as eye-watering as many of its Michelin-starred peers. There is an upstairs bar to enjoy pre-dinner drinks followed by descent down an elegant, spiralled staircase to the main dining area. The room is kitted out in a combination of shades of blue, grey and yellow with mirrors making the place feeling bigger than it is. On the Saturday night when we visited, the venue was more than three-quarters full and with a pleasant buzz. Everyone appeared to know what they were doing and service was prompt, efficient and enthusiastic.
Chef-patron Monica Galetti has stuck to the same formula since Mere’s opening in 2017. She combines classic French cooking with her Polynesian roots and adds in an acknowledgment to British seasonality. That said, the dishes headlined on the tasting menu did not elicit an immediate sense of anticipation. Scallop and beef were both decidedly predictable options while Davidstow Cheddar for the cheese course suggested little thinking beyond the supermarket aisle. My vegetarian comrade noted a distinct root vegetable bias in her selection. Fortunately, most of the dishes did deliver, even if they did not totally wow. My highlight was the pollack – perhaps Monica’s most original choice on the list – that was artfully presented and included crispy tapioca, black garlic rouille and a punchy dash of pil pil sauce. Both the beef and cheddar were better than feared, with wild mushrooms aiding the former along, while the latter was whipped into a mousse and enhanced by a fig compote. On our six-dish menu, mine and my comrade’s overlapped 50% of the time (a squash & potato terrine opener, the cheese and a curious kiwi finale), which presumably makes for less work in the kitchen and keeps costs down. We saw flashes of genius over the course of the meal and liked the thoughtful wine pairings, but with a bit more culinary effort, Mere could make a more genuine case for inclusion in London’s restaurant premier league.