Inside The Silver Birch: Refined Plates, Rooted in Place
Edited by: Penelope Bianchi
When I posted a photo of the fifth course of my tasting menu at The Silver Birch, a gleaming fillet of day-boat turbot, it took less than a minute for a Chiswick local to respond: “Ah, a favourite of ours.” Pressed for more, she described it as a restaurant that “unites all of W4 in our love for the place, simple setting, but amazing food and a fresh take on all the dishes.” Before I had begun writing, she had distilled its essence.
What sets The Silver Birch apart is not just the food, but the experience as a whole. Service is precise without ceremony, attentive without ever calling attention to itself. The setting is elegant yet understated: light oak tables paired with dark green upholstery, handmade clay candleholders, and a colour palette evoking forest minimalism. Personal touches make the space feel uniquely its own, menus hand-lettered by a member of the serving staff, watercolour illustrations by a local artist. Each detail, from the carefully composed plates to these personal signatures throughout the room, is designed to enhance what truly matters: the cooking.
That cooking is led by head chef Nathan Cornwell, whose career includes a Michelin-starred tenure at The Barn at Moor Hall and training at Le Champignon Sauvage. His style is refined, with an uncompromising focus on ingredients, bringing both skill and vision to the kitchen. This was evident when he appeared before the first course with a board of raw produce, laid out like an artist’s palette.
The tasting menu (£120, wine pairing £90) began outdoors with three canapés: a hazelnut sablé with foie gras and cherries, a trout croustade with roe, and Spenwood with pickled walnut, mine adapted to gluten-free wafers. Crisp, rich, and bright, they offered a quiet introduction, hinting at the textures and flavours to come, like reading the programme in a theatre’s foyer before the curtain rises.
Once seated, the meal opened with a Cornish sardine, bright and vinegary, its clean, fresh flavours the perfect palate-awakener. The Holstein Friesian beef tartare hinted at late-night cravings, inspired by a chefs’ post-service burger reimagined in fine dining form. It arrived as a “one-bite burger,” crowned with mustard mayonnaise, so beautiful it almost felt sacrilegious to eat. Yet the flavours, sharp, vinegared, indulgent, more than justified the sacrifice.
Tarleton tomatoes followed, their lifted sweetness balanced by the subtle brine of oyster leaf, accompanied by a glass of Mosel Riesling – my favourite of the meal – which highlighted their brightness. The native lobster arrived, rounded and creamy, its richness matched by a Hawke’s Bay Chardonnay. The day-boat turbot came next, paired with Vermentino, clean, delicate, and gleaming on the plate. Finally, the squab pigeon brought a darker, autumnal note: gamey and rich, served alongside salt-baked beetroot, blackberries, a foie gras tronçon, and a savoury pigeon sauce, with sweetcorn puree and offal ragu framing the dish.
Each element is precise and carefully considered, but never rigid. It is a balance of technical skill and ease that defines London’s new wave of approachable fine dining, plates that carry the exacting standards of haute cuisine without its stiffness.
Desserts confirmed the impression. Norfolk strawberries, paired with a honeyed Sauternes, were light and bright, before yielding to one of the evening’s highlights: a dark chocolate delice. Its caramel shell cracked to reveal an intense, dark-sugar creaminess that lingered long after the plate was cleared. That mine was gluten-free was undetectable, and the table shared a quiet, appreciative buzz as it was enjoyed. The depth and clarity of flavour made this a finale that needs no embellishment.
The Silver Birch is in expert hands. Every plate reflects Cornwell’s years of experience, his meticulous attention to detail, and a profound respect for seasonal, local produce. From the simplest canapé to the final dessert, his touch is evident – subtle, assured, and always in service of the ingredients. It is this careful balance of technique and intuition that defines the restaurant’s character.
The Silver Birch may sit quietly on a Chiswick street, but what it offers reaches far beyond the neighbourhood. There is no pomp, no overstatement, just cooking that speaks for itself, carried with a quiet confidence that lingers long after you leave the table.