Mostly, I was looking out for Sir Paul McCartney and his lovely wife Heather, although I would have been more than satisfied with, say, Glenn Close. Or Eric Clapton, Woody Harrelson, Stella McCartney, Madonna, Gwyneth Paltrow - or indeed any of the celebrities who frequent this tasty little slice of Hammersmith in west London.
Yes, Hammersmith. I know it sounds about as tasty as a knuckle sandwich, but believe me, it's all happening just a falafel's throw from the A4 flyover. So what's the big draw? Why do Gwynnie and co continue to descend on a pocket of London that is 90 per cent roundabout to 10 per cent Argos, home to the most congested road in the capital? In a word, vegetables.
Really delicious vegetables: baba ghanoush; pickled okra; deep-fried courgette flowers. And that's just for starters. Next up, it's all butternut squash and thyme gnocchi, teriyaki aubergine, and tarts of trompette and leek.
The Gate restaurant, an unassuming little place almost lost in a residential side-street, has dragged the British vegetable kicking and screaming out of its natural habitat, the unforgiving saucepan of boiling water. It has placed it tenderly on a chopping board, introduced it to chillies and galangal, miso and tamarind and served it, with passion and panache, to a growing band of fans (Apple Paltrow-Martin's first appearance was at the Gate - at Stella McCartney's birthday lunch).
Adrian and Michael Daniel, the Indo-Iraqi brothers behind the Gate, have been perfecting such elegant dishes for well over a decade, maintaining a tireless crusade against waterlogged vegetables. Adrian, the chef of the pair (Michael's the money man), didn't have much time for vegetables himself until he tasted a cauliflower dish cooked in a tandoor oven in India. 'It was a revelation,' he says. 'I realised it wasn't vegetables I disliked, but the way they were cooked - their wetness. I realised that water destroys everything.' He has a point. Why, after all, would anyone choose to boil a leek or a courgette - two vegetables which absorb water like nappies and come to the plate weeping, as if mourning their lost vitality?
Instead, the Daniels have turned vegetables into chic little explosions of taste. At the Gate, vegetables pick up their skirts and go glam, with a nod to the flavours of Asia and the Middle East. There's not so much as a backward glance to the clarty mouth-killers that once passed for vegetarian fodder - those Birkenstock casseroles and forlorn Quorn patties, the inevitable ratatouille, the virtuous wholefood beanburger_
I always used to feel sorry for the veggies at the table, lumbered with a wodge of nut-roast or a sorry sausage fashioned from sage'n'breadcrumbs, doing its level best to pass for a proper pork banger, as if imitating meat was the very zenith of a vegetable's short life. 'Whenever you go to friends for supper, it's always sodding salmon,' sighs my great friend P, an ethical vegetarian who is so hacked off with her lot that she very occasionally finds herself poking around in other people's fridges, slipping forbidden slivers of Parma ham into a guilty mouth.
But now - P will be thrilled - vegetarian cuisine is fast becoming the most fashionable food around. Look at Terre à Terre in Brighton, with its kibbis and rostis. Even committed carnivores such as Paul Whitehouse have discovered that vegetarian food can be stuffed with flavour: 'I didn't even feel the need to bring my own meat,' he says of his regular visits to the Gate, 'It's fantastic, I've eaten there loads of times.'
Needless to say, he wasn't in when I visited with my crazily slim girlfriend Arugula, a meat-lover who was delighted when her courgette flowers stuffed with pea and mint arrived: 'They look just like lamb chops!' she said with relish, jabbing them with her knife. The courgettes were inspired - just the right balance of crunch and goo. Our risotto of asparagus and broad bean was similarly uplifting, with none of the cloying weight that so often kills a risotto after two forkfuls.
While the restaurant itself has the feel of a village church hall, the little courtyard on a summer's lunchtime certainly has a whiff of decadence about it, if you can momentarily disassociate yourself from the traffic soup thickening up outside. You can see why the McCartneys, who won't eat anything with a face, make their pilgrimages here. And now, they'll be able to avoid Hammersmith altogether and concoct the Gate's recipes in the comfort of their own condos. The Daniel brothers have brought out a book detailing their imaginative recipes, complete with store-cupboard suggestions (you'll be needing pickled lemons, mark my words). Arugula has already perfected their aubergine caviar, which she serves with grilled goat's cheese and the merest hint that it's a great favourite with Madonna.
· To order The Gate Vegetarian Cookbook by Adrian and Michael Daniel (Mitchell Beazley, £25) for £22 plus p&p call the Observer Book Service on 0870 836 0885.
· The Gate restaurant is at 51 Queen Caroline Street, London W6 (020 8748 6932)
Tabbouleh
about 2-3 tbsp burghul or ready-prepared couscous
juice of 2 lemons
55g each of mint, parsley and coriander leaves, finely chopped, plus more whole leaves to garnish
2 tomatoes, seeds and pulp discarded and flesh finely diced
3 spring onions, finely chopped
3 tbsp olive oil
salt
To make the tabbouleh, prepare the burghul or couscous by soaking it in the lemon juice. When just tender, mix in all the rest of the ingredients with salt to taste. Garnish with a few whole mint, parsley and coriander leaves.
Green banana fritters
These are based on a recipe we found in India - our customers say they are great for regularity...
serves 4
for the stuffing
1 tbsp each of olive oil and vegetable oil
1 large chilli, deseeded and chopped
5cm fresh root ginger, grated
5-6 shallots, finely chopped
3 garlic cloves
2 tsp sugar
juice of one lime
salt
for the fritters
3-4 small plantains or green bananas
vegetable oil, for deep-frying
handful of coriander leaves
to serve:
chutney
Make the stuffing well ahead. Heat the oils in a large frying pan or wok and cook the chilli for 30 seconds, then stir in the ginger, garlic and shallots, and cook very gently for about 15 minutes. (If the mixture should catch at any point, stir in a few drops of water; don't worry, as a little bit of charring will add to the flavour.) Stir in the sugar until dissolved, then stir in the lime juice and add salt to taste. Remove from the heat and leave to sit for 3-4 hours to let the bitterness subside and the flavours develop.
To make the fritters, preheat the oven to 220 C/425 F/ gas mark 7 and roast the plantains or green bananas in their skins for 30 minutes, until the skins split and the flesh inside has darkened.
When cool enough to handle, remove the skins and rinse the flesh while still warm as this helps it mash more easily. Mash the flesh, ideally using a Mouli-legumes. If it is a bit too dry, put about one-third of it in a food processor and pulse until softer, then mix back in. Mix the mash well with the cooled 'stuffing' mixture and the coriander, and roll the mixture into 12 ping-pong-sized balls.
Heat 3cm of vegetable oil in a wok or large frying pan until almost smoking and cook the fritters in two to three batches, turning them so they cook evenly, for 2-3 minutes until golden brown. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain on kitchen paper. Keep warm while you cook the rest in the same way.
To serve, arrange three fritters in the middle of each plate and spoon some chutney around them.
Marsala figs with sable biscuits
This wonderful combination of flavours and textures makes a truly delightful light summer dessert.
serves 4
8 ripe figs, halved
good splash of Marsala
sprinkling of sugar
juice of lemon
juice of orange
for the sable biscuits:
75g shelled and skinned hazelnuts
575g plain flour
300g butter
225g icing sugar
a pinch of salt
1 vanilla pod, crushed using a mortar and pestle
3 eggs, lightly beaten
First, gently toss the fig halves in the other ingredients and leave to macerate for at least an hour, preferably overnight, turning them carefully from time to time.
To make the sable biscuits, preheat the oven to 140 C/275 F/gas mark 1 and line a baking tray with baking paper. Grind two-thirds of the nuts finely in a blender or food processor. Add the rest of the nuts with all the remaining ingredients except the eggs and blend until the mixture has the consistency of fine crumbs. Add the eggs and knead lightly to a loose paste. Leave to rest for 20 minutes (it will stiffen up in that time). Spoon the paste into rounds onto the prepared baking tray to make biscuits, spaced well apart to allow for spreading. Cook for 15-20 minutes, until the biscuits are lightly browned around the edges and coming away readily from the baking paper. Leave to cool, then carefully lift from the paper.
Serve two fig halves with each biscuit and drizzle with the Marsala syrup.
Harissa
This version of the classic North African condiment spices up any dish, and allows you to moderate chilli hotness to individual taste.
makes 225g
6-7 red chillies, roasted (20 minutes on moderate heat), seeded and sliced
olive oil, to cover
2-3 red peppers, seeded and sliced
1 tbsp cumin seeds, toasted
2 tsp roasted garlic
salt
to roast the garlic:
Preheat the oven to 180 C/350 F/gas mark 4. Place sevaral whole garlic bulbs in a baking tray. If there are too many outside layers of skin on the garlic bulbs, pull them off first. Drizzle the bulbs with olive oil until it goes right inside and roast for about 60 minutes, until soft and squishy. Cut off the top of the heads with a serrated knife and squeeze out the garlic pulp. You can also use this in soups, sauces, pestos and as a simple dressing on its own. The roasted garlic will keep in a sealed container in the fridge for up to a month.
to make the harissa:
Put the chillies in a small pan, just cover with oil and cook slowly until very tender. Drain off the oil. Do the same with the red pepper slices. Pound together (or whizz in a blender) the cumin and roasted garlic with salt to taste. Mix in just enough of the combined drained-off oils to make a paste. Store in the fridge for up to a month.
variation:
Ground toasted coriander and caraway seeds are also traditional ingredients which can be added to harissa.