Terminal Five might not be drawing rave reviews, but Gordon Ramsay's Plane Food is worth flying for.

The Venue
For all the criticism Terminal Five has suffered, no one can honestly say that this isn’t the most spectacular airport building that Britain has ever had built, and it’s undeniably the most beautiful. Soaring arches of steel and glass let the light flood into the cavernous space. It manages at once to be achingly modern yet recall the glamorous days of early air travel before velour tracksuits became acceptable airwear and the ridiculously over-zealous and utterly superfluous security checks made vanity cases a thing of the past.

Gordon Ramsay’s corner of Terminal Five captures this exact zeitgeist. Designed by architects Bentel and Bentel, it’s supposed, according to the website blurb, to use aerodynamic lines to conjure up the shapes associated with flying. Whatever. The shapes commonly associated with flying nowadays are the grim downturned mouth and forehead furrow of a jobs-worth Ryanair hostess doling out each passenger’s allotted misery for the day, the gentle curve of your back as it goes into spasms from sheer discomfort and the stiffening of your neck and shoulders as yet another delay is announced. There is none of this in Ramsay’s restaurant. If associated with flying at all, it’s flying on Air Force One, or with NASA, an experience that most of us mere mortals have yet to experience.

Plane Food is all gold, bronze and beige – not, please note, utilitarian wipe-clean navy or the clashing primary colour branding that most airlines favour today. It’s curvaceous, with the marble counter of the bar sweeping across the length of the room, backed by light boxes and perfectly spaced bottles of liquor on one half and a direct view into the industrious kitchen behind on the other. Above, an impressive and glittering panel of articulated gold, crimson and grey propellers provides the room’s focal point. Banquettes of beige leather run through the central aisle, tables lined up in serried ranks on either side. There’s real glass and linen table napkins. No real knives though – this isn’t fantasy land after all, just as close as you can get to it in today’s health and safety obsessed Britain. Perhaps the best bit, despite the admirable efforts of the Betels, however, is the view. Floor to ceiling windows look out directly onto the concourse – real planes come and go before your eyes.

The Atmosphere
On a recent visit at the lower boundary of the lunch hour, the restaurant was far from full. The diners’ voices are muted – presumably cowed from the experience. After all, with the terminal’s repeated ribbing in the press and with the common experience of air travel as described above, they can’t have expected to have been treated well – much less cosseted. It’s no wonder that everyone seems very slightly shell shocked, as if they had somehow survived some catastrophic disaster without a scratch. As the lunch service wears on, one by one, they recover from their trance. Self congratulatory smiles made tentative forays to the corner of each person’s lips, as if scared to make a full appearance. The immaculate service delivered by unbelievably good looking waiting staff coaxes them back to life. The acoustics, however, prevent the echoey, disorientating clamour of an airport penetrating the restaurant’s confines. It’s truly relaxing.

The Food
The menu caters for all manner of time frames and constitutions, with starters ranging from foie gras and chicken liver parfait to an organic salmon ceviche. Main courses can be selected from five different categories: salads, eggs, pasta and rice, sandwiches, fish and meat. A starter of San Daniele ham, asparagus, marinated mozzarella and aged balsamic (£9.50) is superb. The ingredients fresh, the textures complementary, the flavours combine to create a perfect combination; the oaky richness of ham contrasting with green, woody freshness of asparagus. The soft creaminess of the mozzarella plays off by the mellifluous tang of aged balsamic vineagar.

Salmon ceviche (£8.50) is marginally less successful – the gentleness of the salmon overpowered slightly by the pink grapefruit juices that cure it with their acidity – lime would have been a better choice, with its sweetness tempering the bitterness of strong citrus. Still, coriander and chilli are a perfect match to the finely sliced salmon, with enough of a tang to send tastebuds tingling, the coriander imbuing each mouthful with freshness. A salad of beetroot with fourme d’ambert cheese (£8 for a starter, £12 for a main) is a work of art. The pink earthy flavours of the beetroot marry well with the creaminess of this mild blue cheese.

The Drink
Beware of Plane Food’s immaculately put together wine list, as the shops at Terminal Five are dangerous territory for the slightly merry. Wines from throughout the world in red, white and rose are available by the bottle, from £16, and by the pichet or glass. Champagnes and desert wines are also available for the serious diner. There is an extensive cocktail list and wide range of liquors available at the bar and, for those who can’t trust themselves in duty free, non-alcoholic cocktails and smoothies are available together with the more traditional soft drinks.

The Last Word
This is the best meal you will ever eat airside. First class.

venue information venue map view london review user reviews (1) image gallery (5)