Three Stars by the Riverside (Inn)

November 2024 marked ten years of marriage for Dio and me. Ten years deserved more than a dinner reservation and a card.

So we built a week around it.

Museums. Private wine clubs. Michelin-starred pairing menus. A drive into the Cotswolds. A countryside stay at Cliveden House.

If you’ve been following along, this is the fourth stop in our five-part anniversary series. We began at PS in Atlanta with Champagne and elevated dining. Then came 67 Pall Mall in London, followed by an unforgettable night at The Ledbury. Each experience layered onto the next.

And then came The Waterside Inn.

A LEGENDARY LEGACY ON THE THAMES

On our fourth morning in London, we checked out of our Airbnb in Marylebone, collected our rental car, and pointed it toward Buckinghamshire. Cliveden House awaited us that afternoon.

But first, lunch.

Months earlier, I had secured a reservation at The Waterside Inn in Bray. As the trip approached, that reservation quietly became one of the most anticipated of the week.

The Waterside Inn holds a distinction that’s almost hard to comprehend. Since 1985, it has maintained three Michelin stars longer than any restaurant outside of France. Nearly four decades of excellence at the absolute highest level.

Founded by the Roux brothers, Michel and Albert, it now operates under Michel’s son, Alain Roux. Culinary legacy, continued with intention.

Bray itself has become something of a pilgrimage site for serious diners. Michelin stars per capita here rival anywhere in the UK. In fact, we would return the very next day for lunch at The Fat Duck.

What drew us initially was simple. It was on our route. It had three Michelin stars. The Michelin Guide deemed it worth a journey. We took that literally.

A few days before our reservation, I received a thoughtful email from Maggie Fairbrother, their Reservations Manager, confirming details and asking about dietary restrictions. I asked about parking. We would be arriving with luggage in a rental car before continuing to Cliveden.

Her response was immediate and reassuring. Olivier, their doorman, would either guide us to secure parking or park the car himself.

That level of care before we’d even arrived told me something important.

Details matter here.

ARRIVAL AT A RIVERSIDE GEM

The drive to Bray felt like a transition from city to storybook countryside. As we pulled up, The Waterside Inn revealed itself exactly as you’d hope. White exterior. Black timber framing. The Thames flowing gently beside it.

Olivier greeted us at the car door, just as promised. Keys handed over. Luggage secure. No friction.

Inside, the dining room felt refined but intimate. Not imposing. Not theatrical. Confident.

We were seated in a corner overlooking the river. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the Thames like a painting. Rowing teams glided by in perfect rhythm. Autumn light reflected off the water.

It felt calm. Anticipatory.

Since I would be driving unfamiliar countryside roads afterward, I had already decided I would limit myself to two small pours of wine. Responsible? Yes. Slightly painful? Also yes.

THE MEAL BEGINS

I started with the NV Hervé Dubois Champagne Grand Cru Brut Rosé.

The sommelier explained its composition as he poured. Ninety percent Chardonnay for structure and minerality. Ten percent Pinot Noir for fruit and color. In the glass, it showed a delicate burnt orange hue. On the palate, it was lively and expressive. Bright fruit layered over clean acidity. Elegant and energetic.

It paired beautifully with the opening bites and bread service that followed.

An exceptional Champagne. 93 points.

Dio chose a mocktail and settled into her river watching. I settled into mine.

SMALL BITES, BREAD AND EXPECTATIONS

The bread service and amuse-bouches were flawless. Precisely composed without feeling fussy.

We continued watching the rowers on the Thames. There’s something grounding about water moving steadily beside a dining room operating at this level. It keeps everything from feeling overly staged.

And then the first course arrived.

PÂTÉ PERFECTION

Game pâté en croûte with foie gras and hazelnuts, mushroom jelly, and Puy lentils.

Served properly chilled. Texturally perfect.

The richness of the foie gras wove seamlessly into the game. Hazelnuts added crunch. The mushroom jelly brought earthy depth that tied it all together.

Classic French technique executed without ego.

BURGUNDY SNAILS IN DELICATE BOUILLON

Since I couldn’t have the fish course, the team allowed me to choose both starters.

My second course featured ravioli and diablotins of Burgundy snails, parsley and garlic infused, served in a lemongrass-scented chicken bouillon.

The server poured the broth tableside. The aroma alone was worth pausing for.

Delicate but not fragile. Technically precise. The lemongrass added brightness that lifted the richness of the snails in an unexpected way.

This was cooking that felt deeply French but never heavy.

THE BORDEAUX DISCUSSION

As I worked through the ravioli, the sommelier returned to discuss my final pour.

I told him to choose. White or red. I trusted him.

His eyes lit up when I mentioned Bordeaux.

What followed was one of those conversations that reminds you why wine culture is special. Producers. Vintages. Left Bank versus Right Bank. We quickly realized we were speaking the same language.

A GLASS WORTH SAVORING

He returned with the 2010 Château Gazin Rocquencourt, Pessac-Léognan.

Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot in near equal proportions.

Freshly opened that day.

In the glass, it showed dark fruit and balance with a slightly New World aromatic profile. The Merlot influence was noticeable. Soft tannins. Approachable. Dark plum and blackberry with a subtle earthiness underneath.

It drank beautifully on its own and even better with the main course.

92 points.

When he noticed my enthusiasm, he asked if I was “into wine.”

That’s one way to put it.

I told him I was a wine collector and blogger based in Atlanta. As he listed regions, Burgundy? Bordeaux? Napa? Champagne? I kept saying yes.

Spanish. Austrian. German.

He perked up at Austrian wines, and we found ourselves discussing Amador in Vienna and their Blanc de Blanc. Then Palais Coburg Then 67 Pall Mall.

It was exactly what I love about wine. Knowledge shared freely. Passion meeting passion.

THE MAIN EVENT

The main course arrived.

Pan-roasted feather steak and beef cheek braised in Beaujolais, boulangère potatoes, smoked lardons.

The steak was cooked perfectly. Tender and flavorful. The beef cheek, slow-braised, carried depth and richness that felt comforting rather than overwhelming. The potatoes were creamy and structured. The lardons added just enough smokiness.

The Gazin Rocquencourt paired seamlessly. Dark fruit meeting savory beef. Balanced structure keeping everything in harmony.

Meanwhile, Dio was captivated by the birds along the Thames. When she asked about feeding them, the server gently explained they never do.

Even that small detail spoke to care. Stewardship. Respect for the environment.

It all fits the pattern.

WINE, CLUBS, AND BUCKET LISTS

When offered another glass, I reluctantly declined. I still had countryside roads ahead.

Instead, we talked wine.

He mentioned Oswald's Wine Club. Exclusive. Limited membership. Hard to access. Another name to add to the list.

I shared my Bordeaux bucket list inspired by Robert Parker’s reclassification. Nearly 270 wines to track down over time. I showed him the two I had just purchased at Hedonism Wines. Château La Croix St. Georges. Château Balestard La Tonnelle.

We laughed at the Balestard label. Possibly the busiest wine label ever designed.

Wine conversations have a way of dissolving time.

SWEET ENDINGS

Dessert arrived.

Warm apple tarte Tatin with Cognac, kefir ice cream.

Caramelized apples. Depth from the Cognac. The kefir ice cream brought a tangy counterpoint that kept everything balanced.

Then came a surprise.

A plate reading “Happy Wedding Anniversary” in chocolate.

Dio’s face lit up instantly.

“That’s so cute.”

Mignardises followed. Lemongrass and ginger tea. The Thames shifting into long afternoon shadows.

It was one of those meals where nothing was loud, yet everything felt significant.

REFLECTIONS ON EXCELLENCE

What makes The Waterside Inn extraordinary is not theatrics.

It’s consistency.

Thirty-nine years of three Michelin stars is not about one great night. It’s about thousands of them. It’s about emails before arrival. Secure parking. Thoughtful wine pairings. Anniversary plates appearing without prompting.

It’s about the local couple beside you who have been coming for years.

That kind of loyalty cannot be manufactured.

After lunch, we drove on to Cliveden House. The next day would bring The Fat Duck and our final three-star experience of the trip.

But this meal stayed with me.

A riverside dining room. A thoughtful sommelier. A glass of Bordeaux. Ten years of marriage across the table from me.

Excellence, pursued patiently over decades, creates something rare.

Here’s to The Waterside Inn.
Here’s to thirty-nine years of three stars.
And here’s to the next anniversary adventure.