Travel Alert: Dining Out In London

We Would Be Wrong

I should have guessed that the experience was not going to be stellar when I saw the huge, somewhat florid fake flower arrangement at the entrance of the Oblix dining room on the 32nd floor of the Shard. We had decided to splurge (just under £400) on an afternoon tea with our grandson and daughter. My very limited experience in expensive cities like New York, London or Paris is that when you dine in pricey venues, the floral arrangements are real. I am thinking of the beautiful ones at the Bar Room in the Museum of Modern Art in New York City or even the fresh flowers one always sees placed on the bars of small restaurants in Paris. While I pass by  lush planters and window boxes in London, I see more fake floral arrangements than real ones in restaurant interiors, if I see any at all.

While The RWM (who is also a retired general contractor)  loves to look at construction in just about any form, he is not that interested in tea. That said, however, nothing gives him greater satisfaction than counting swinging tower cranes and watching skyscrapers in the making. My grandson loves the unbelievable views you get from great heights, and of course I like to eat. We thought what could be better than being in the tallest building in London, looking out over this mammoth city with its old buildings and new, its kaleidoscope of neighborhoods, and of course the River Thames —  large enough to ferry naval ships. as well as tourist boats? The gilding on the visual experience was to enjoy the particularly British custom of a luxe afternoon tea. 

The Venue Menu

Once seated in a spot with wonderful views on this enviable piece of London real estate, we were handed our oversized menus, which promised several types of British tea experiences, and a waiter came over to tell us how we could order. No suggestion of something other than an adult tea for a child was offered, but we thought that he would really enjoy the scones and madeleines (dipped in chocolate sauce) that would be – as advertised – replenished if he wanted more. We had wanted to order a bottle of champagne, rather than succumb to the “endless bubbles” option or the single glass. 

We waited a long time for our waiter to return to take our order. After getting his attention, we fell into an episode of Fawlty Towers. The waiter was comically obsequious,  glib and incomprehensible –  getting a clear definition about their champagne pricing and how to order it proved impossible.  My daughter ended it with a beady stare and firmly  requested one bottle of their champagne to be shared among three adults.  After taking the order the waiter disappeared, and we waited for our tea in the almost empty restaurant, despite adequate number of waitstaff,   

Tea, replete with strainers, small pitchers of milk and a bowl of sugar was whipped out. We decided to pour all the milk pitchers into a glass for our grandson. The platters of sandwiches appeared  (2 each of 4 selections) and three-tiered stands with condiments, scones, madeleines and bright colored pastries. Plates were served, but no knives and forks, The waiter, who was chatting with a colleague, was flagged once again for cutlery. He did stop by to give us new plates for the pastries but later, having removed the old dishes and the cutlery, we were once again without forks and knives.  (A note on the pastries – they were ambitious, but inexpertly done) And there was no offer to replenish any particular treat. We observed the family seated at the table next to us complain that they had an  unsatisfactory view. They were moved to another table. Actually we shared the same view, and it was a sufficiently good one. 

While the sandwiches, madeleines and even the scones were quite nice, our waiter never returned with the champagne. My daughter flagged him down once again. He announced to us that it was unfortunate that the Oblix did  not have a sommelier, so that he would have to serve it himself, which he did accomplish. I was surprised that no pot of hot water was offered as the tea had become quite concentrated during this comical episode. The waiter disappeared and we had to flag down another server, new on the scene, for our bill. We quietly paid and left. 

NB I wrote a letter to the restaurant about our experience and received a polite response in which the management wanted to refund the service charge of £47. Since getting a small refund was not the point of my letter, I turned down the offer.

Dining As Theater

No one, however, can do theater the way the British do. It must be in their DNA. Almost every city has at least one  theater group, and usually you can watch some sort of live performance. I think this must carry over into their approach to restaurants once outside of their comfort zone of pub grub and Sunday roasts. The Ivy and its outposts, for example, serve excellent comfort food in swank but cozy “continental” interiors, replete with pots of live plants (and fresh flowers at the counter). You feel cared for but not irritated by over the-top wait staff.

We enjoyed two restaurants (the first being The Delaunay) run by the Wolseley Hotel Group – the second was Brasserie Zedel. Again, you are entering a play, and it is fun being a part of the script. Brasserie Zedel is restaurant decor on steroids. It is even attached to a cabaret theater along with an idealization of an American bar.  You are pulled into a marvelous Art Deco set of an imagined Parisian brasserie. It is huge and somewhat noisy, and the food is good  and of course plays to many brasserie classics. And actually, like  The Delaunay, it offers some prix fixe menus that are quite a good deal.  Even when there seems to be a cast of thousands in the dining area, the wait staff is attentive and professional. One thing we did notice was that the desserts had some of that American overkill in size and taste – i.e. a HUGE profiterole, filled with shards of chocolate and whipped cream and then covered with a too sweet chocolate sauce. I can imagine worse fates. 

In terms of a smaller restaurant as theater of a British chef’s imagination, you could do no better than to visit Bouchon Racine. Located a short walk from the Farringdon tube station, it is perched above a pub (owned by the same partnership) and is the second or third act of Henry Harris, who has taken the earthy bistro cuisine of France and turned it into his own. The interior is fresh and casual, – a huge chalkboard menu  will be lugged around for you to read, and the waitstaff is friendly and fun. The wine list is RWM approved and the desserts are reasonably sized, simple and absolutely delicious.  Interesting note, Henry Harris had to close his original restaurant in a fashionable area in 2015, when most of the buildings were bought by foreign oligarchs for investment. They never lived in them or dined there – and so he lost a large percentage of restaurant regulars as the old neighborhood had disappeared. 

Another British interpretation of non-British cuisine is Bru.tto, Russell Norman (who earlier this year died by suicide) created his version of a Florentine steak house. I would like to give it another try sometime, and so would the resident steak tester in the family The decor again is a very clever (and very British) theatrical interpretation of a Tuscan trattoria. Lots of framed memorabilia on the walls, and ceiling lights with white napkins as shades. A large passata can will be your wine cooler. The din, if it is crowded, is a bit overwhelming. And the food on our first lunch did not quite “get it”. I would like to go again, as I am sure the staff of this restaurant is still suffering from the loss of its owner, whose cookbooks I love, and whose first restaurant Polpo was a terrific introduction to simple Venetian cuisine. I have high hopes.