Roger Hickman’s Restaurant

79 Upper St Giles Street, Norwich, NR2 1AB
Tel: 01603 633522
Internet: www.rogerhickmansrestaurant.com
GPS: 52.629360, 1.286454

Upper Giles Street, in the centre of Norwich, was once home to one of the city’s best-loved culinary institutions. The eponymously named Adlard’s was where David Adlard gave life to his passion; starting in 1989, using only the highest quality, locally sourced ingredients, he served simple but precisely executed dishes to the residents of Norfolk for close to two decades. He picked up a Michelin star, and along the way kick-started the careers of several other well-known chefs, most notably Tom Kerridge, who was head chef here under Adlard for many years.

Eventually Adlard left for pastures new, and although this was the start of his winding down he still bothers the hob from time to time, even cropping up as a guest chef in nearby Benedict’s only a few years ago. His retirement opened the door to another of his protégées, one Roger Hickman, also head chef here, who took on the site and thus Adlard’s became Roger Hickman’s. This was back in 2007 though, and close to two decades has since passed.

Probably long enough for Roger to get settled in. Time to book a table, I think.

A restaurateur sets the scene with his decor, his linen and how his staff are presented, and the message at Roger Hickman’s is crystal clear. A pale varnish underfoot, cool walls lifted only by some colourful works of art, acres of crisply starched white linen and smartly clad waiters who might have just teleported in from The Connaught or Chez Dummonet. Or maybe a mélange of the two. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find them wearing white cotton gloves. In fact, come to think of it, maybe they were.

Dining in a party of three I managed to steer the group towards the tasting menu, two of us taking the omnivorous version, one the vegetarian. This meant kicking off with the mysteriously anonymous amuse bouche, which turned out to be a goat’s cheese ice cream, on beetroot with red amarenth leaves, which was a deflating start to the evening. I am a fan of goat’s cheese (that shouldn’t surprise you given the amount of time I spend in the Loire Valley) but my dining companions were ambivalent at best, and one companion’s dislike of it would have probably led them to dine à la carte had the tasting menu given more detail. And even I, whose veins run rich with Crottin de Chavignol, found the combination of the goaty flavour with the ice-cold serving temperature and dense texture somewhat jarring.

I didn’t realise it at the time, but the appearance of savoury ice creams was to be one theme that ran through the evening, cropping up in at least two other dishes across the omnivorous and vegetarian tasting menus.

A dish of artichoke, truffle and leek happily produced more smiles, the presentation nothing short of eye-catching. This is not something Roger Hickman appears to struggle with as the dishes that followed were as pleasing to the eye as any I have eaten recently. Both artichoke and leek were delightfully done, the former dense but yielding easily, and the truffly cream provided a highlight. But again, a dollop of savoury ice cream jarred with the rest of dish, the switch to the palate-numbing temperature masking rather than lifting the other flavours.

Happily the red mullet, confit potato, bouillabaisse sauce and courgette spaghetti which followed was free of icy fripperies, and it was delicious. The mullet was light, moist and fresh, the potato adding some welcome density, while the bouillabaisse sauce added umami-tinged depth. I don’t need to say much more than that – a top-notch dish.

Even so, the mullet was then surpassed by the next offering, a magnificent wedge of barbecued turbot, which came resting atop a white bean cassoulet with charred broccoli and squid tempura. Note, importantly, again no ice cream. Hurrah! Super cooking on the fish, perfectly à point, lightly textured and teasing the palate while the cassoulet set about filling the stomach. Two great fish dishes here, and both behaved themselves very nicely in partnership with the rather low-acid but flavoursome 2020 Condrieu Les Ravines from Rémi Niero.

After a fine selection of cheeses – including a really good wedge of Baron Bigod – came dessert, listed rather coquettishly as honey, thyme, lemongrass and kalamansi. No, I had no idea what kalamansi was either, but it turns out it is a hybrid citrus fruit native to the Philippines renowned for its sour acidity. And this certainly came across in the dish, which combined a curdy, Ottolenghi-level preserved-lemon flavour intensity with a vibrant, eye-popping acidity, all of which was countered by the cream-filled bun with its crispy, chewy, melt-in-the mouth shell. And there was ice cream too – thankfully not cheese-flavoured this time.

This was a fine dinner, which could only be improved if Roger were to put away his ice cream maker (I’m being flippant – I am sure these savoury palate-killers are all lovingly hand-crafted) because they serve only to mask rather than emphasise Roger Hickman’s talents, which otherwise come across beautifully on the plate.

My only other unsolicited advice to Roger is to make a full survey of all his chairs. Barely ten minutes after we had arrived an eager diner took his seat at a neighbouring table only for it to collapse beneath him, splintered into several parts. Picking himself up off the floor he brushed himself down, somewhat red-faced, and was furnished with a new chair, hopefully one in better condition.

“I’m not very happy about that,” he informed the waiter, an understated response almost worthy of the Earl of Uxbridge.

We were too polite to earwig any further, but we suspect the staff made amends with a complimentary bowl of savoury ice cream.

Prices: The five course tasting menus were £70 per head, and matching wines would be £55 on top of that. There is also a six-course ‘premium’ taster menu which is £90 per head, with cheese an optional £10 per head, and ‘premium’ matching wines £80 on top. And for tasting menu addicts there is also a lunchtime option, a tempting £50 for six courses, and £40 for matching wines, which looks like a very good deal. Alternatively you can of course dine à la carte, with lunch at £32 or £39 for two or three courses, dinner at £40 or £50 for same. The Condrieu was £68, well under three times the retail price, so a fair mark up I guess. Our dinner came to £319.50 for three, including a 12.5% service charge. (26/7/24)