Wine list of the week: Hélène Darroze at The Connaught

Douglas Blyde discovers "space, time, and faultless execution" on a visit to Hélène Darroze at The Connaught and a 3,000-strong wine collection which reads like "a billionaire’s shopping list". There are dining rooms, and then there is this – a stage for power, privilege, and those who still pay for newspapers. “I am certain it is the dining room in Princess Daisy,” mused Tanya Gold in The Spectator, picturing Russian princes, Robert Maxwell, and Margaret Thatcher surveying the scene. Under Hélène Darroze for 17 years, it hasn’t merely kept up with London’s shifting tides – it’s “in turbo-charge,” according to The Good Food Guide. For Condé Nast Traveler, Lydia Bell put it simply: “Anything and everything is possible.” Michelin insists the signature Baba, doused in Armagnac from Hélène’s brother Marc, is “a must.” TripAdvisor’s Michel Instar, unafraid to take down sacred cows like Restaurant Gordon Ramsay and Manteca, went further: “Re-mortgaged my house for the Chef’s Table…it was just sublime.”

Design

Darroze sees everything. From Ema Pradere’s hand-thrown consommé bowls to Hermès’ Bleu D’Ailleurs tea and coffee service, every detail is deliberate, every artisan chosen with precision. Pierre Yovanovitch has stripped away the gloom, replacing heavy oak with light, texture, and flow. Banquettes curve in pink, tan, and velvet, coaxing diners in. A hand-blown glass chandelier - blue lacquered wrought iron adding bite - hovers over oak tables with red ceramic-lacquered bases, while Damien Hirst’s commissioned works stand sentinel. Below, the show kitchen unveils a pink marble Chef’s Table on a terrazzo plinth, ringed by ten plush armchairs beneath a Rochegaussen cobalt fresco. Matteo Gonet lamps glow over pale oak panelling, setting the stage for a looser, livelier affair where menus bend, chefs engage, and dishes arrive with personal panache.

Drinks

A word on prices. The old adage goes: double them, halve the customers, work less. At The Connaught, the numbers induce vertigo for mere mortals, but for those with the means, what they buy isn’t just dinner – it’s space, time and faultless execution. No frantic turnover, no tables wedged together – just proper service, immaculate sourcing, and room to breathe. Should civilisation collapse, a wise soul would take refuge in The Connaught’s cellars, corkscrew in hand. Overseeing this vinous fortress is Daniel Manetti, a Tuscan-born bartender turned Corporate Director of Wine at Maybourne Hotel Group, living by the motto "keep pushing and never give up". His team, led by head sommelier Lucas Renaud-Paligot, includes Benjamin Yip, a former lawyer who wisely defected to wine, having cut his teeth at 1890 by Gordon Ramsay. Together, they preside over 3,000 labels, with thousands more in bond, forming collections which read like a billionaire’s shopping list: Leflaive, Coche-Dury, Rousseau, Romanée-Conti, d’Yquem, Cheval Blanc, Egon Müller, Vega Sicilia, Quinta do Noval. The Champagne selection is an embarrassment of riches, from Krug and Billecart-Salmon to grower fizz listed by village, plus quality grower English fizz, Hundred Hills, bottled in magnum and beyond. By the glass, choices veer from the head-scratching – Rumor [sic] Rosé 2022 (£24/125ml) – to the jaw-dropping: Pétrus 2007 (£950, via Coravin) and Dom Pérignon P2 2004 (£165). A sake offering (from £20/100ml) and Italian cider from Aosta (£15) hint at the team’s catholic tastes. By the bottle, entry-level sits at a fair £60 for Kyperounda Winery’s Xynisteri Petritis 2018, though things swiftly escalate. Château d’Yquem 1921 (£50,000) outprices Romanée-Conti La Romanée 1985 (£45,000), while cork-stoppered antiques range from D’Oliveiras Malvasia Madeira 1895 (£4,500) to Cheval Blanc 1939 (£19,500), Krug in magnum 1952 (£9,500), and Unico 1953 (£6,500). Other big bottles include Krug Collection 1979 magnum (£18,500) and a double magnum of Harlan 2001 at the same price. Corkage? A neat £250 per bottle. And then there’s the bars. Currently ranked 13th place, The Connaught Bar has held its place in The World’s 50 Best Bars since 2010, just two years after opening. At the helm since day one, Ago Perrone sees its greatest achievement as knowing what not to change. The famous martini trolley still makes its rounds, service remains a masterclass, and cocktails are delivered with impeccable style - think the “Eclipse,” evoking a silky Negroni, pepped by a base wine personally persuaded from Oxfordshire. Across the hall, The Coburg Bar, in no way a lesser sibling, boasts an enviable whisky selection overseen by Mehdi Ichedadene, including a rotating plinth in the window which has played host to the oldest Macallan releases to date. The Connaught isn’t just its bars or restaurants, though - it’s an institution, a shrine to good taste, and, for those lucky enough to afford it, a place where luxury is more than a concept - it’s a given, stitched into the monogrammed napkins.

Dishes

Born into a dynasty of chefs in Les Landes, Hélène Darroze first flirted with restaurant management before Alain Ducasse dragged her, willingly, into the kitchen. After honing her craft at her family’s Relais & Châteaux restaurant, she struck out solo in Paris, earning acclaim and, eventually, two Michelin stars at Marsan. London came calling in 2008 with The Connaught, where she bagged a Michelin star in six months, a second in 2011, and the ultimate third in 2021. Her cooking is instinctive, emotional, and unapologetically ingredient-led - a love letter to Les Landes, the Pays Basque, and Britain’s finest producers. Along the way, she inspired Pixar’s Ratatouille character Colette, judged Top Chef, and became one of the world’s most decorated female chefs. Now, with restaurants from Mayfair to Marrakech, Darroze proves that while some chefs chase trends, the best make their own rules. Renaud-Paligot set the tempo at the start of this lunch menu with Billecart-Salmon Blanc de Blancs, poured into Zalto glasses so fine they might shatter under a stern glance - a prelude to a broth of mushroom and pine, dark and loamy as the undergrowth after a downpour, ladled into a vessel begging to be cupped. Then, a tartare of juniper-cured venison, the kind of canapé which might slip through customs in a diplomatic pouch. Beside it, verdigris-effect plates for a sourdough-rye hybrid, flanked by butter sultry with piment d’Espelette. For the blue lobster starter – scented with tandoori spice and set against carrot, brown butter, and citrus muesli – the chosen pairings occupied each other’s personalities, with acidity as the fulcrum. The 2021 Vieux Télégraphe Blanc, a “new wave” white Châteauneuf-du-Pape fermented in stainless steel rather than oak, offered purity and mineral tension, its clarity framing the dish with precision. In contrast, the 2018 Szepsy Furmint from Hungary, likened by Renaud-Paligot to a Saint-Aubin, layered oak with electric energy, serving as a diplomatic alternative for those still wary of sweetness. Each wine played off the other – the former defined by its freshness, the latter by its depth - creating a dynamic balance. With the scallop-sized ris de veau, licked by a chicken jus so rich it should have held a title deed, and uplifted by dehydrated tuna heart with a bottarga-like depth, came the pairing of the day: Barbera d’Alba Donna Elena 2011 from Cascina delle Rose. Poured from magnum, still fresh, its acidity a ribbon tying the dish together. Next, Brittany pigeon, its breast a plump jewel, its confit leg bound in butcher’s string so diners could wield it like a drumstick without scandalising the linen. Blood orange, delicia pumpkin, and mole – dark, thrillingly bitter, and deeply spiced – conjured a dish which should be available via room service via its own button, albeit only with magnums of Barbera, dispensed by suave sentinels of Darroze’s domain. It met La Marguerite Cahors 2014, a nod to Darroze’s roots, still flexing its muscles, before an unexpected encore: Monsanto Il Poggio Chianti Classico Riserva 1998, a time capsule of Tuscan vitality, the label pleasingly retro, the wine anything but faded. The signature baba, anointed at the table with Darroze’s family cask-strength Armagnac from 2005 – “tobacco," purred Renaud-Paligot – sank gloriously under its own weight, cushioned by chantilly and kissed by Buddha’s hand. Sometimes dubbed “d’Yquem junior”, the thick, saffron-scented Château de Fargues 2008 flanked it with aristocratic ease. Honourable mention: Yorkshire rhubarb, brightened with pink pepper, Tahitian vanilla, and champagne, served alongside a raspberry kombucha. “If rhubarb can grow in the dark, so can I,” mused Benjamin Yip, contemplating the long shadows of winter...

Final sip

As the last drop of Armagnac sinks into the baba like an old duke into his mistress’s four-poster, and the bill lands with the force of a small inheritance dispute, it’s clear: The Connaught doesn’t serve lunch, it performs it. It is a restaurant for those who consider money a vulgar distraction, and for the rest of us, a place to marvel at what life looks like when it has been hand-fed by an army of perfectionists.

Best for

• Five wine pairing options, including a deep dive into Champagne
• Poised front of house led by Mirko Benzo
• Chef’s Table with Rochegaussen frescoed ceiling
• Cellar dining, with dishes paired to wine

Value: 89, Size: 99, Range: 98, Originality: 97, Experience: 100; Total: 96.6 Hélène Darroze at The Connaught - Carlos Place, London, W1K 2AL; 020 7499 7070; helenedarroze@the-connaught.co.uk; the-connaught.co.uk