Planque

322-324 Acton Mews

London E8 4DY

BY NEAL MARTIN | JULY 07, 2023

The Food:

House sourdough and butter

Carlingford oyster, Savagnin & chicken fat

Razor clams with calamansi and nasturtium leaves

Asparagus, faisselle, capers and kombu

Chickpea panisse, anchovies and Espelette

Smoked eel, squash and brown butter

Grilled pollack, leek and wild garlic

Pork collar, collard green shoots and white bean puree

24-month aged Comté

St Jude ice cream, meringue and bread caramel

The Wines:

1982 Taittinger Comtes de Champagne	94
2001 Morey Blanc Montrachet Grand Cru	NR
2017 Domaine Etienne Sauzet Montrachet Grand Cru	91
2006 Château Rayas Châteauneuf-du-Pape Blanc	95
2009 Château Rayas Châteauneuf-du-Pape Blanc	NR
1990 Château Rayas Châteauneuf-du-Pape	99
2005 Château Rayas Châteauneuf-du-Pape	98
2006 Château Rayas Châteauneuf-du-Pape	NR
2009 Château Rayas Châteauneuf-du-Pape	97
2012 Domaine Georges Roumier Chambolle-Musigny Les Cras 1er Cru	93

Once upon a time, not that long ago, while I would not claim to have poured Rayas onto my Rice Krispies each morning, bottles intermittently deigned me with their presence. Rhône has never been my focus. However, your palate would seriously malfunction if it failed to swoon each time it was acquainted with this most quixotic of wines. A vertical tasting of the Rayas Châteauneuf-du-Pape, a dozen or so vintages back to 1978, is indelibly printed in my memory. A merchant organized it in the glory days when such tastings could exist without remortgaging the house. Like nearly all producers whose wines were deemed a cut above the rest, not least those with fabled owners such as Jacques Reynaud and later his nephew Emmanuel, Rayas turned from a niche cult to a global cult. Market prices soon had a couple of extra zeros added to the end. Rayas suddenly disappeared from view. Therefore, when invited to a supper featuring a clutch of vintages, I canceled whatever was in my diary (nothing) and made a beeline for Planque.

Carlingford oyster, Savagnin & chicken fat

Planque is located in the hipster-ville of East London in Haggerston and is a self-described “wine drinkers’ clubhouse”. Run along similar lines to 67 Pall Mall and Oswald’s, Planque is a private members’ club for oenophiles wishing to conveniently store their wines, access a private dining room and BYO, all for the price of what, in London terms, is a relatively modest fee. The venue is open to non-members, albeit without the benefits. Admittedly, it’s not the easiest place to find, with an innocuous entrance you could simply walk straight past, and the club itself accommodated inside two converted railway arches. The décor is easy on the eye: a chill-out lounge area stocked with magazines and glossy coffee table books, an alcove housing a private room, a wall-spanning cellar illuminated behind thick glass and its centerpiece, a magnificent 10-meter-long communal oak table. Ex-Chiltern Firehouse chef Seb Myers helms the open kitchen.

Asparagus, faisselle, capers and kombu

The food is top-notch. The house sourdough bread was gooey and moist, and the Carlingford oysters in Savagnin and chicken fat were tangy and saline. My favorite was the razor clams with calamansi. The nasturtium leaves sported optimal chewiness, while the calamansi imparted flavor-enhancing acidity and married perfectly with the nasturtium. From this, we moved on to smoked eel, served with squash and brown butter, a very competent dish. However, I have unrealistic expectations because I am accustomed to eel (unagi) that I relish over in Japan, and it’s impossible to find equal quality in the UK. Yet the grilled pollack with leek and wild garlic was perfectly executed, moist and meaty. Kudos for showing just what this underrated fish is capable of.

Chickpea panisse, anchovies and Espelette

Asparagus, perfectly cooked and seasoned, was served upon a mousse of faisselle, capers and kombu, a lovely, refreshing combination. Chickpea panisse, anchovies and Espelette dish was one of the highlights. The anchovies lent the salty tang, while the Espelette brought a welcome fire without shading the subtle flavors of the panisse.

Smoked eel, squash and brown butter

We chose just one meat dish: the pork collar with collard green shoots and white bean purée conveyed autumnal warmth despite it being early spring. The pork had just enough fat.

Grilled pollack, leek and wild garlic

We finished with plates of 24-month aged Comté. I could not resist the St Jude ice cream that came with meringue and bread caramel.

Pork collar, collard green shoots and white bean puree

Though the food was excellent, this evening focused on exceptional bottles proffered by the six guests. We commence with the lesser-spotted 1982 Comtes de Champagne from Taittinger. Its arresting nose seems initially too oxidative, though against expectations, I soon become accustomed to this trait, and it complements the grilled walnut and autumn bonfire scents, the aromatics coalescing only after 30 minutes in the glass. Pungent, in an uncompromising and positive way. The palate is lovely: walnut and hazelnuts flanked by wild peach and nectarine notes. Harmonious and persistent with impressive weight on the finish, this is a love-it/hate-it champagne that, for myself, goes from the latter to the former. This is accompanied by a Blanc de Blancs Les Perrières from Ulysse Collin, though I do not find out the vintage base and do not take a note, probably because I am instead fixated on the mercurial Taittinger. Désolé.

Twenty-four-month aged Comté

A pair of white Burgundy wines follow from its noblest climat. The 2001 Montrachet Grand Cru from Morey Blanc, the négociant side of Domaine Pierre Morey in Meursault, is disappointing. Again, there is some oxidation on the nose with touches of walnut, crème brûlée and sea spray fighting against it. The palate is powerful. However, I find this bottle distastefully oxidative, erasing the mineralité one expects in a Montrachet. Maybe there are better bottles out there? Perhaps the second would compensate? Not really. The 2017 Montrachet Grand Cru from Domaine Etienne Sauzet has an intense nose with nectarine, white linen and pressed flower scents. It's fairly backward with a subtle petrol-like tincture. The palate is very well-balanced, harmonious and slightly peachy in style, though I want more tension and more electricity running through the finish, prompting me to lower my score because that is something that I expect from whites in this cooler vintage, not least from this Grand Cru. 

St Jude ice cream, meringue and bread caramel

We move on to the main event and a run of bottles from Château Rayas. The 2006 Châteauneuf-du-Pape Blanc is sensational. Tight on the nose, it unfolds with scents of lanolin, hazelnut, melted candle wax and orange rind, even a suggestion of freshly picked strawberry, until you are completely mesmerized. The palate is precocious, perhaps with a little botrytized fruit, vanilla pod and almond shavings. It’s slightly creamy in texture with wild peach on its caressing finish. Just a joyous wine. We all have high expectations for the 2009 Châteauneuf-du-Pape Blanc, but lo and behold, TCA rears its ugly head and flattens the aromatics.  

To the reds!

The 1990 Châteauneuf-du-Pape flirts with that tantalizing intangibility of perfection. The bouquet is heavenly, loaded with melted red fruit, kirsch, touches of Christmas cake, leather and aniseed. Aromas seem to billow and, like your favorite aunt, give the olfactory senses a warm maternal hug. Armed with stunning delineation, I could have just inhaled its perfume all night. The palate is sweet on the entry with cashmere tannins and perfect acidity. Tart cherries and rooibos intertwine towards the sensual finish. It is an utterly spellbinding Châteauneuf-du-Pape that surpasses even my own sky-high expectations. God invented wine to drink wines like this. The 2005 Châteauneuf-du-Pape has the unenviable task of following the 1990 and does with some chutzpah. A cornucopia of scents: brambly red fruit, Kalamata olives, black pepper, Seville orange marmalade and fresh-picked fennel. Whereas the 1990 has reached its aromatic peak, you feel as if this has more in reserve. The palate is medium-bodied with pliant tannins, a satin-like texture with fine depth. Seamless, harmonious and sensual, there is a trace of rosemary and sage towards its precise finish. You could almost describe this as “clinical,” yet that would be a disservice to its personality and charm. Unfortunately, our 2006 Châteauneuf-du-Pape is slightly tainted – two Rayas casualties in one night being two too many. The 2009 Châteauneuf-du-Pape is the third Rayas to blow our minds. Stunning delineation on the nose, this offers layers of red fruit, menthol, lavender oil and rosemary, the fruit just a notch darker than the 2005 alongside. The palate is perfectly balanced with a hint of Lapsang Souchong, fanning out gloriously towards a finish that shows disarming tenderness and restraint. I am utterly smitten by its elegance. Why are not more Châteauneufs like this?

Bringing up the rear is no less than the 2012 Chambolle-Musigny Les Cras 1er Cru from Domaine Georges Roumier. This vintage was actually missing from the vertical a few months ago, so it is a pleasure to revisit. Raspberry and wild strawberry on the nose that is bolder than expected. The 2012 eventually calms down and reveals more mineralité. The palate is still relatively backward with grippy tannins, suggesting that it might benefit from another couple of years in bottle. Persistent with vibrant redcurrant and raspberry on the finish, this is an impressive Les Cras that will drink longer than initially expected.

This was a splendid evening bejeweled with memorable bottles. While regretting how market demand has made Rayas a fetish producer, when tasting wines like the 2009, 2005 and not least the spectral 1990, you understand why wallets open as wide as they do. At least if you look around, there are still a handful of restaurants in France that sell mature vintages on their list for less inflated prices…one recently with vintages mentioned here under €400 a bottle, and no, I’m not divulging where they are. You have to stumble upon them as I do. Planque is a fine addition to the London dining landscape. There was a buzzy atmosphere and a satisfying feeling of dining a bit geographically off-piste in a hideaway den that only you and your mates know about, whereas 67 Pall Mall evokes the feeling of being in the center of things. The food was excellent from start to finish. The service was attentive without being overbearing. Maybe Planque is a bit too out of the way for me to visit regularly, but certainly, I hope to return, especially if wines like these are at the destination.

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