Your reviewer has lived in the environs of St John’s Wood all his adult life. He has walked past Oslo Court many times. It’s an imposing Grade II listed block of flats opposite Regent’s Park. Prior to this week he had never entered. Within sits an eponymous restaurant that has been open for over 40 years. Step inside and it is as if the clock were wound back. You’re happily in the early 1980s, albeit now paying 2023 prices.
Back in the day, when Oslo Court Restaurant first opened, a three-course meal could be purchased for £7.50. Queues apparently used to form outside the venue. Inflation means that today’s equivalent costs about six times as much. On our recent visit, there were no queues, but many of the punters from Oslo Court’s early days were probably still in attendance. The owners (still the original family) know their target market: typically the wealthy, elderly and often Jewish denizens of St John’s Wood.
That nothing has changed at Oslo Court is part of its charm. Forget the notion of exposed brickwork and piping or servers wearing denims much like the diners. This is not Soho or Shoreditch. At Oslo Court, there is carpet on the floor. The waiters dress in black tie. All the tables are decked in pink cloths with napkins to match. I arrived after my dining comrade. Already in front of her was a plate of crudités with garlic mayonnaise (pictured), provided gratis. This retro offering was served without the slightest irony. It was pitch perfect for the venue.
The menu (laminated, with a hard cover – obviously) is a joy to behold. It’s unabashedly old school in its composition. Think a heavy bias towards terrines, pâtés, cured fish and soup to begin. For mains, diners can expect the likes of liver, schnitzel, or steak, with a few classic fish options such as Dover Sole thrown in. All are served with a selection of potatoes (mashed, sautéed or in chip form) and seasonal vegetables. Disappointingly, there was no game on the menu. Being a vegetarian may also be problematic at Oslo Court.
What we ate was excellent. The chefs are not in the business of trying to push boundaries, let alone radical reinvention. At Oslo Court, it’s about competent execution. Nonetheless, it was hard not to smile wryly as each dish was brought to the table. Nowhere else in London (at least which your reviewer has visited recently, at a comparable price point) would you see a trout terrine wrapped in smoked salmon accompanied by slices of cucumber and tomato. Garnish was a sole sprig of parsley. We’re back in 1982. Portion sizes veered on the generous side. Perhaps people worried less about their waistlines then, or maybe the average diner at Oslo Court is beyond caring by now. We did, of course, have to valiantly make room for pudding. Tarte tatin is always a highlight for this reviewer. Coffee and chocolates from nearby Leonidas plonked on a saucer proved a fitting finale. In a world where the quest-for-the-new seems to dominate, Oslo Court provides reassuring constancy. Don’t we all want to nostalgise sometimes?