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Will n Mike in London
Beware a hotel whose window boasts the legend - “formerly The Comfort Inn”. Was this formerly its name or was it formerly comfortable...? If you want our opinion, the answer lies somewhere in the second half of the previous sentence. The staff were friendly but the walls were thin. Will’s room was several doors away from Mike’s but we were still able to discuss the quality of the wallpaper… Enough of this! Oh, sorry, let’s stay with the hotel a bit longer to tell you about breakfast. Will went down to breakfast at 8.30 a.m. He left at 8.31 a.m. What a wonderful thing text messaging is. Mike simply went straight to a delightful Italian street café on the Earl’s Court Road.
We’re versatile chappies (so, not just restaurant critics) and Will gave an organ recital at St Mary at Hill in the City. Mike is even more versatile and turned pages. It’s a sort of posh kind of busking and paid the first restaurant bill (well, in part…).
Perhaps we forgot to tell you: we were invited to a Buckingham Palace Garden Party. So was Nick Griffin. We were allowed in. The policeman looked long and hard at Mike’s passport before declaring, “yes, that’s definitely you.” Mike was most relieved (especially since the photograph was taken many years ago – thank goodness for L’Oreal Men Expert). And then we wandered through the gardens towards the lawn at the rear of the Palace. Mike, of course, knew the ropes and fussed around, establishing the best vantage point for the trays of gin and tonic. Oops, sorry, the best vantage point for the arrival of HM The Queen. A delightful surprise of pale blue (“Hello” magazine eat your heart out) walked solemnly across the terrace to take up her position at the head of the steps leading down to the lawn. She was accompanied by HRH The Duke of Edinburgh and other members of the Royal Family. The entire retinue of the Yeomen of the Guard was also present. (No, they’re always there; it was nothing to do with undesirabe guests – after all, what could they possibly have against Will?)
Ok, so you’re not even remotely interested in the celebrities or the gardens or the bands or the hats; you just want to know about the sandwiches, don’t you? They were, of course, utterly delightful. No, more than that – they were delightfully utter. And, by the way, if you’re ever kept waiting for your meal in some restaurant or other, think of the Buckingham Palace caterers who make serving tea to 8000 guests look like a tea party. Makes sense if you think about it…! If you are ever invited to such an occasion (and, let’s face it, it’s a social catastrophe not to get invited to such an occasion), do try the passion fruit tart. It’s quite something.
Then it was time for some more celebrity-spotting but we only managed three dukes, one princess, two deans, a former Government minster, and a Conservative MP. There were some nice cars knocking around too. Was that Dave’s new set of wheels, we asked ourselves?
It all ended with a gentle stroll through the staterooms and the forecourt of the Palace as the whirr off camera shutters increased noticeably when Will and Mike emerged into the sunlight. Well, we liked to think so anyway.
Time to freshen up because our next date was with that other venerable lady of the London scene: Rules of Maiden Lane – London’s oldest restaurant. You have to get ready for this superlative experience in style (whether you’ve just been to Buckingham Palace or not) so have a drink at the Sofitel, a few yards away from St James’s Palace (just to keep a certain theme going…). The Rose Room is the place to be and the waiters even argue over who’s going to serve you. It’s really rather lovely!
Then, on to Rules. If there are just two of you, ask for the little table underneath the staircase whose underside is emblazoned with a huge cartoon of Margaret Thatcher a la Boadicea. No shortage of staff here and jobbing sixth formers are not on the menu. These guys really know what’s what.
The menu? Well, put it this way: this restaurant has its own private estate in Scotland so, apart from the occasional bit of lead shot, you can be sure of quality with a capital “Q”. Check out the crab salad and the rack of lamb and, for the wine buffs, well… take your pick. The place has clearly evolved over the years since its inception in 1799. It has been spared the interior designers. This is like walking into the squire’s shooting lodge and being invited to join him for some victuals. Nevertheless, do expect to receive the bill – and maybe telephone your bank manager first. Don’t worry too much about the cost. As they say, you might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb so order a pudding too. Try the Eve’s Pudding. In some sort of theological reworking of the Fall of Man, this pudding doesn’t feature apples at all – just nectarines and peaches, not to mention a dash of rose water and almonds in the custard. Tempted? Eve was.
Rules
| Menu range |
***** |
| Atmosphere |
**** |
| Surroundings |
***** |
| Facilities |
**** |
| Service |
***** |
|
Quality |
***** |
|
Worth it? |
*** |
|
Return? |
***** |
| Overall |
36/40 |
You can’t follow a night like that with a fry-up in a greasy spoon on the A1 so how about kedgeree at the Wolseley on Piccadilly? Go on, spoil yourself. This former showroom of that most elegant of cars has been cleared of its mechanical delicacies in favour of an a la carte menu. It’s all beverages in the family silver and breakfast as it might have been served at Buckingham Palace that same morning. Again, many solicitous members of staff to cater for your every whim (as long as it relates to catering…). This is elegant dining with a refreshing lively twist. If you have a choice, ask for a table near the windows for a slightly quieter and more exclusive experience. The kedgeree was perfect – not too dry but not swimming in fish stock either. Oh, and do have the Greek yoghurt with a cherry compote. You won’t regret it. Another telephone call to the bank manager and then off for a spot of retail therapy at Fortnum and Mason. If you have time, add Selfridges to the list too. See if you can do both without spending anything. It may be possible; we couldn’t comment…
The Wolseley
| Menu range |
***** |
| Atmosphere |
**** |
| Surroundings |
**** |
| Facilities |
**** |
| Service |
**** |
|
Quality |
***** |
|
Worth it? |
*** |
|
Return? |
***** |
| Overall |
34/40 |
We’re really quite cultured, you know, so we ought to tell you about our walking tour of the City churches. This is a good exercise after breakfast at the Wolseley, if you think about it, but it’s also a truly delightful chance to stumble into some of London’s hidden gems – Wren-inspired architecture, walls soaked in the prayers of centuries, more celebrity-spotting (this time amongst the tombs), and the occasional organ that one of the great English composers might once have played. It’s also a good way of working up an appetite for the next meal. However, we worked up such an appetite for the next meal that we couldn’t wait for the next meal so we simply had to take tea at the Renaissance Hotel, Chancery Court. This grand hotel, set back from High Holborn is a riot of Palladian architecture and tea came with a riot of scones and cup cakes – all of which had gone by the end of our visit…
So, now it was time for our next meal but not before a vital bit of freshening up back at the hotel. Sorry, no, it’s not time for our next meal yet because we’ve got rather hooked on taking a glass of something at a very expensive hotel prior to dinner. In fact, on this particular evening, we decided to take a glass of something at two very expensive hotels. Well, we said something before about being hanged for a sheep as a lamb, didn’t we? So, when you try out this fairly ordinary, run-of-the-mill few days in London, try the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in Knightsbridge, trot across Hyde Park, and then call in briefly at the Grosvenor House Hotel on Park Lane.
And, at last, it’s time for supper. So, on to Vapiano, an exciting new experience on Great Portland Street. And, if you’ve never had an exciting experience on Great Portland Street, you should go to Vapiano soon. Will had done it all before so the waiter on the door didn’t need to run her spiel yet again and we just sailed in. You find a seat and then go to one of the many food counters and select your starter which is immediately prepared before your very eyes. Likewise, the main course. Drinks at the bar. Whether it’s fast and furious or leisurely and sedate is up to you. The food is delicious and, on this occasion, you won’t have to telephone the bank manager. Insalata Caprese, beef carpaccio, pizzas and pastas are the order of the day. Enjoy.
Vapiano
| Menu range |
**** |
| Atmosphere |
*** |
| Surroundings |
*** |
| Facilities |
*** |
| Service |
*** |
|
Quality |
**** |
|
Worth it? |
**** |
|
Return? |
**** |
| Overall |
28/40 |
If you’re still alive after all this, go and buy something nice at the Portobello Road market. Try and get there before the entire world’s population arrives (usually about 11.00 a.m). Breakfast should always precede the acquisition of antiques and objets d’art. We sampled Kitchen and Pantry which promised well (looked fantastic) but the mildly amusing confusion over what we had ordered soon descended into chaos as Mike was asked five times if he’d ordered a fried egg bap or not. Having said yes as many times to five different members of the waiting staff, he began to wonder nervously just how much breakfast he was going to have to work his way through! Thank goodness there was a Vanity Fair print that he liked on one of the stalls later on. It helped him forget the rock-hard fried egg that eventually made its way to his table.
But, if you think about it, after Buckingham Palace, Rules, The Wolseley, Vapiano, and all those posh hotels (excluding, of course, the formerly-named Comfort Inn), a rock-hard fried egg was a good way of coming down to earth with a bang.
Cheers, London!
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