Dscombobulated
Pro Some authentic Michelin* dishes at affordable prices.
Con After 6 weeks, it's still finding its feet. We hope.
Pay
€€€€
Per Person €50-60 Six shared plates, including two desserts. Bottle of red. Aperitif+service is €3.25 pp. Gratis: not a sausage.
Find
Website https://www.dstageconcept.com/dspeakeasy There's no info on menu or prices, however.
ℹ Dietary Staff ask about allergies during the welcome.
Access Disabled bathroom downstairs. Several steps up to dining room and down to cocktail area.
In Short
Hopes. Cooking that sets the stage for Dstage.
Reality. Some dishes are absolute winners, some need thinking about.
First Impressions. Bare white walls and wood.
USP? A Diego Guerrero meal for less than half the price of his starred restaurant.
The offer in three words. Michelin meets muddle.
Service! Started excellently, rhythm went as things got busy.
Friend friendly? Menu's navigable, but is largely meat and fish focused.
Rating for dating. Hmmm...the price? A bit too bright and noisy, perhaps,
Tip? Small one.
Change one thing? Dessert design.
Revisitability. It's definitely a major maybe.
Compare & Contrast
Creative cooking at Sunne. The older brother: Dstage.
In Pictures
On Google Images
What's the story?
We like Diego Guerrero. We've been regular visitors (well annual ones, anyway) at his 2* restaurant almost since it opened. So the prospect of a more accessible (real world term: less expensive) a la carte offer was impossible to resist. So, in its second month open, how are things? It is, as they say, complicated.
We were advised to order four dishes to share. Clear instructions and quantity control guidance. Good. The A4 - vegetable paper - menu is dated for the day. Of the 20-ish dishes, there are a selection of Dstage classics and new ideas we've not seen there, some of which wouldn't work so well in that environment.
After an amusing non-avocado avocado and chilli aperitif, the main events started really well. Here's a Michelin-level salad to get you going. Cherry tomatoes, peeled. Intense micro basil. And frozen raspberry juice. It's splendid and entirely recommendable.
Codorniz/Quail Robata (it's a Japanese grilling technique, thank you, Mr Internet) arrived with some nice leaves, flowers and an absolutely first class sauce which reminded us of a lovely one once served (with wild boar loin) in a bar we used to live opposite in Malasaña. It needed, no demanded, bread, and we demolished the pretty plate enthusiastically. This is wholeheartedly recommended, as long as you're OK with dismantling quail.
Rachel's Pastrami was a winner too, although it's essentially a very posh, very deconstructed burger. If you put all the components - including some very tasty brioche, bitter salad greens and excellent mustardy sauce - together, the flavour profile (real world term: taste) is uncannily like a Big Mac. Amusing, and we assume, intentional.
So three excellent dishes out of three. What's to come? Well...
Picantón sounded promising, so we went for it. Considering the unquestioned skills in the kitchen, with a small roasted chicken we reckon they'd a) infuse flavour layers b) use interesting seasoning and c) do something artful with some crispy skin. Result? None from three. This was a expertly cooked little bird, but the thing is, that's pretty much all it was. Cooked. If I want a roast chicken that simply tastes like roast chicken I'm not short of options. Not least my own kitchen, where a) there'd have been Nigella's roast potatoes b) it wouldn't have cost €23 and c) the sauce would, with luck, have been rich and moreish rather than bland, flat and just there. When a star ingredient is outshone by the dressing of the - decent - salady planet orbiting it, things need re-thinking.
So the unqualified success rate stands at 75%. Solid enough. As we couldn't make our minds up between two of the five puddings, we bit the bullet, muted the Catholic guilt complex and ordered both. Sensitive readers might like to stop now.
I can only, charitably, describe the next two dishes as what education establishments call opportunities for development. First up, Apple Hojaldre means I now know why I've never put apple and vinegar together in a dish. Indeed, why no-one does. It's because it works as well as a bicycle on a trampoline.
There's apple, layered incredibly thinly (technical skill, we applaud), then possibly poached or cooked sous vide, with a dash of vinegar to season it, before being added to the pastry, we imagine. The result is not our cup of tea at all. The texture's not nice and the little pool of vanilla sauce is simply not creamy enough to balance out the acidity. Can't deny it. I'd not want to try this again.
And so to a second cooking lesson. I shall introduce you, perhaps with furrowed brow, to the Soufflé.
I know what you're thinking. It's almost certainly what I was thinking. This can only be soufflé, secret agent. Like Tom Cruise in far too many misnamed movies [1], it's arrived in an impenetrable disguise. Tonight Matthew, I'm going to be a meringue. There's an ice cream layer underneath, surrounded by something crunchy which might, just, be the soufflé bit. Although souffle's not generally crunchy, is it? Anyway, there's some nice lime zest which sadly gets lost in the sweetness. It was quite enjoyable, but in terms of expectation management I now need educating to understand how a soufflé can look like, taste of and, unless I'm simply a bit thick, be meringue. It's back to school for someone.
Service is typically friendly and warm. It started well, although I'd say total crockery & cutlery changes after every dish are over the top. With only a small number of staff on service, so much extra toing and froing meant things slowed down as the room filled up. Good news; you pour your own wine, which feels right. Bad news: it took three ¿Disculpe?s for someone to pay attention and bring extra bread. Decor is fairly plain, verging on stark, although the medium-dark wood furniture echoes its sibling round the corner. Tables are quite tightly placed - close enough to have to overhear your neighbours' travel plans for the week.
Bottom line time. Four dishes, aperitif included, score a certain hit, two a clear miss, one a bewildered Eh? Make no mistake this is a genuine sincere disappointment for us. I'd love to say - I wanted to say - Dspeakeasy is the advertisement the outstanding Dstage experience merits. Sadly, at the moment, I worry it could leave you questioning what all the fuss is about.
[1] Six films in, Mission: Impossible looks increasingly misnamed, doesn't it? Mission: It's all a bit of a faff but I'll sort it might not sell though, I admit.
Credit
We must thank A, J, D and S, members of the informal Honestly Madrid focus group, for providing useful photo feedback in the prep for this article.
Pro Some authentic Michelin* dishes at affordable prices.
Con After 6 weeks, it's still finding its feet. We hope.
Pay
€€€€
Per Person €50-60 Six shared plates, including two desserts. Bottle of red. Aperitif+service is €3.25 pp. Gratis: not a sausage.
Find
Website https://www.dstageconcept.com/dspeakeasy There's no info on menu or prices, however.
ℹ Dietary Staff ask about allergies during the welcome.
Access Disabled bathroom downstairs. Several steps up to dining room and down to cocktail area.
In Short
Hopes. Cooking that sets the stage for Dstage.
Reality. Some dishes are absolute winners, some need thinking about.
First Impressions. Bare white walls and wood.
USP? A Diego Guerrero meal for less than half the price of his starred restaurant.
The offer in three words. Michelin meets muddle.
Service! Started excellently, rhythm went as things got busy.
Friend friendly? Menu's navigable, but is largely meat and fish focused.
Rating for dating. Hmmm...the price? A bit too bright and noisy, perhaps,
Tip? Small one.
Change one thing? Dessert design.
Revisitability. It's definitely a major maybe.
Compare & Contrast
Creative cooking at Sunne. The older brother: Dstage.
In Pictures
On Google Images
What's the story?
We like Diego Guerrero. We've been regular visitors (well annual ones, anyway) at his 2* restaurant almost since it opened. So the prospect of a more accessible (real world term: less expensive) a la carte offer was impossible to resist. So, in its second month open, how are things? It is, as they say, complicated.
We were advised to order four dishes to share. Clear instructions and quantity control guidance. Good. The A4 - vegetable paper - menu is dated for the day. Of the 20-ish dishes, there are a selection of Dstage classics and new ideas we've not seen there, some of which wouldn't work so well in that environment.
After an amusing non-avocado avocado and chilli aperitif, the main events started really well. Here's a Michelin-level salad to get you going. Cherry tomatoes, peeled. Intense micro basil. And frozen raspberry juice. It's splendid and entirely recommendable.
Codorniz/Quail Robata (it's a Japanese grilling technique, thank you, Mr Internet) arrived with some nice leaves, flowers and an absolutely first class sauce which reminded us of a lovely one once served (with wild boar loin) in a bar we used to live opposite in Malasaña. It needed, no demanded, bread, and we demolished the pretty plate enthusiastically. This is wholeheartedly recommended, as long as you're OK with dismantling quail.
Rachel's Pastrami was a winner too, although it's essentially a very posh, very deconstructed burger. If you put all the components - including some very tasty brioche, bitter salad greens and excellent mustardy sauce - together, the flavour profile (real world term: taste) is uncannily like a Big Mac. Amusing, and we assume, intentional.
So three excellent dishes out of three. What's to come? Well...
Picantón sounded promising, so we went for it. Considering the unquestioned skills in the kitchen, with a small roasted chicken we reckon they'd a) infuse flavour layers b) use interesting seasoning and c) do something artful with some crispy skin. Result? None from three. This was a expertly cooked little bird, but the thing is, that's pretty much all it was. Cooked. If I want a roast chicken that simply tastes like roast chicken I'm not short of options. Not least my own kitchen, where a) there'd have been Nigella's roast potatoes b) it wouldn't have cost €23 and c) the sauce would, with luck, have been rich and moreish rather than bland, flat and just there. When a star ingredient is outshone by the dressing of the - decent - salady planet orbiting it, things need re-thinking.
So the unqualified success rate stands at 75%. Solid enough. As we couldn't make our minds up between two of the five puddings, we bit the bullet, muted the Catholic guilt complex and ordered both. Sensitive readers might like to stop now.
I can only, charitably, describe the next two dishes as what education establishments call opportunities for development. First up, Apple Hojaldre means I now know why I've never put apple and vinegar together in a dish. Indeed, why no-one does. It's because it works as well as a bicycle on a trampoline.
 |
| Add caption |
There's apple, layered incredibly thinly (technical skill, we applaud), then possibly poached or cooked sous vide, with a dash of vinegar to season it, before being added to the pastry, we imagine. The result is not our cup of tea at all. The texture's not nice and the little pool of vanilla sauce is simply not creamy enough to balance out the acidity. Can't deny it. I'd not want to try this again.
And so to a second cooking lesson. I shall introduce you, perhaps with furrowed brow, to the Soufflé.
I know what you're thinking. It's almost certainly what I was thinking. This can only be soufflé, secret agent. Like Tom Cruise in far too many misnamed movies [1], it's arrived in an impenetrable disguise. Tonight Matthew, I'm going to be a meringue. There's an ice cream layer underneath, surrounded by something crunchy which might, just, be the soufflé bit. Although souffle's not generally crunchy, is it? Anyway, there's some nice lime zest which sadly gets lost in the sweetness. It was quite enjoyable, but in terms of expectation management I now need educating to understand how a soufflé can look like, taste of and, unless I'm simply a bit thick, be meringue. It's back to school for someone.
Service is typically friendly and warm. It started well, although I'd say total crockery & cutlery changes after every dish are over the top. With only a small number of staff on service, so much extra toing and froing meant things slowed down as the room filled up. Good news; you pour your own wine, which feels right. Bad news: it took three ¿Disculpe?s for someone to pay attention and bring extra bread. Decor is fairly plain, verging on stark, although the medium-dark wood furniture echoes its sibling round the corner. Tables are quite tightly placed - close enough to have to overhear your neighbours' travel plans for the week.
Bottom line time. Four dishes, aperitif included, score a certain hit, two a clear miss, one a bewildered Eh? Make no mistake this is a genuine sincere disappointment for us. I'd love to say - I wanted to say - Dspeakeasy is the advertisement the outstanding Dstage experience merits. Sadly, at the moment, I worry it could leave you questioning what all the fuss is about.
[1] Six films in, Mission: Impossible looks increasingly misnamed, doesn't it? Mission: It's all a bit of a faff but I'll sort it might not sell though, I admit.
Credit
We must thank A, J, D and S, members of the informal Honestly Madrid focus group, for providing useful photo feedback in the prep for this article.
