30 April 2017 - Sunday Times

TABLE TALK: THE OTHER NAUGHTY PIGLET, VICTORIA, LONDON By Ed Balls

'I'm doing my first ever restaurant review', I told a TV friend the other day. 'Oh', she replied, 'So you've given up politics to spend more time with your lunch?' I was a bit thrown. I mean, do people really do restaurant reviews at lunchtime?

During my twenty year stretch in politics, I've had plenty of lunches out, usually a short cab ride from Westminster. But I rarely noticed the food. Holidays aside, I've generally seen lunches as work affairs. If you're serious about eating, you go in the evening, when you’re less likely to be called away from your starter for a crisis meeting about quantitative easing.

I mentioned my upcoming review over lunch the next day with Michael Portillo - another Member of Parliament who lost his seat and turned up on popular TV programmes talking about 'journeys'. 'That’s a pity,' he said. 'You should have chosen this place and we could have done the review together'. 'Over lunch?', I exclaimed.

For the record, we had a very nice conversation - our first proper one ever - about the madness of life and politics and TV. But I can't remember what we ate, which rather makes my point.

But perhaps I was wrong to rule out a lunchtime review. And the Other Naughty Pig - a younger sibling to an acclaimed Brixton original - is conveniently located in Victoria, just ten minutes’ walk from Parliament. So I cancelled my dinner reservation and invited one of my old MP colleagues for lunch.

If you're planning a furtive political meeting with a secret contact, this place is a great choice. Located upstairs at Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Other Palace Theatre, it has the most discreet restaurant entrance I've ever been through. You navigate through the theatre lobby, dodge the box office and walk up a sweeping staircase to a high ceilinged first floor venue with bare tables arranged around an open kitchen, giving it a rather cafeteria atmosphere.

My table by the window was flooded with light, but rather closer to my neighbours than most whispering Parliamentary lunchers would prefer. Although, where else but Westminster would ‘It’s always totally empty’ be considered a glowing recommendation for a restaurant?

Not knowing if my guest would have a glass of wine - less and less likely these days in the world of 24 hours news and televised Parliament - I decided to order the modern 'sharpener' of choice, a spicy tomato juice. I've had so many over the years - rich and thick, watery and bland, over-spiced, under-salted - and I've hated all of them. But it's the best holding drink while you wait to see whether your lunch companion is abstaining.

'I'm sorry but we don't do tomato juice', the waitress replied. Goodness. Close, bare tables, no tomato juice. The Other Naughty Pig was clearly not pitching for the political/business lunch market. And then I looked down at the menu.

Sharing plates. Now that's a tough enough ask for men of a certain age - my Dad would have walked out there and then. But it's doubly difficult if you're on a political lunch. Yvette and I love to share everything we eat, but sharing when you're sitting across the table from the Editor of the Times brings a whole new dimension to an already complex lunch. How many dishes to order? Who has the last bit of sauce? Will he or she double-dip? Much too up close and personal.

My guest arrived and immediately said he wanted a glass of wine. What a relief. The extensive list majors in natural wines, with a good choice by the glass. We went for a really fresh Languedoc white.

What do you think of the place?' I asked my down to earth Midlands MP companion. 'It's a bloody impressive staircase and we've got a lot to talk about,' he replied, before looking at the menu and suddenly going very pale.

I decided to take control - it was my review after all; and after a little negotiation, involving me ordering one dish he definitely wouldn't eat and another where I got him to agree he would close his eyes, we were off.

We were just getting down to conversational business when the first dish arrived – a brace of ham croquettes - and as we bit into them we stopped talking, looked up at each other and gulped in wonderment. 'I know nothing about food' my guest said, 'but that's really good.' A spectacular coalition of salt, crunch and creaminess, they were good enough to derail our conversation about Jeremy Corbyn and the state of the Labour party.

We didn't talk a word of politics from then on - we were too enraptured. Grilled pear, beautifully partnered with blue cheese and hazelnuts; a tangle of flakey, white crab on crisp, cabbage and some kind of brown, crabby, peanut-flavoured paste; and a majestic piece of brill topped by cloves of soft garlic and resting on smashed potatoes and a mussel reduction. For a couple of blokes who normally just have steak and chips, this was definitely an upgrade.

The next course - BBQ pork belly with Korean spice - dipped a little: without any crispy skin, it tipped towards blandness and was distinctly over-salted. But as boom follows bust, the final main course was right up there again, a wonderful lamb dish with glossy sprout tops to dip in the rich, anchovy sauce.

By now on a roll, we ditched the usual Westminster 'one glass' rule with a smooth measure of Provençal red poured at the table from an open magnum - better value and better quality, the waiter explained. I could really get used to this new approach to working lunches.

We could have stopped there, already clear this was the best lunch we'd ever had in SW1. But to compound my guest’s manly embarrassment, I made him share a spot-on creme caramel and some Brexit-defying French cheese , which we partnered, at our waitress’s suggestion, with a pungent oxidative wine. Only afterwards did I realise this was the proprietor Margaux Aubry, whowas happily serving tables and chatting away to guests.

What a great job she and her partner have done. This restaurant is far too good to be wasted on distracted clients talking plots, deals or transitional agreements. And now that I do have a bit more time to spend with my lunch, I can’t think of a more enjoyable place to do it Lunch or dinner, I'm definitely going back.