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'This is a weird old crustacean altogether, but it almost works'
Mayfair genuinely now is a foreign country. A country populated by gals trussed up in truncated bandage dresses like so many glossy sausages. And by men whose expressions, despite their decks of mobile phones and jewelled watches the size of satellite dishes, register only "broodingly miserable" and "deeply cross". The Russians, Indians and south-east Asians who pop by to pick up Mayfair's multimillion-pound properties rarely live in them full-time, creating a kind of glittering ghost town, all underground pools, panic rooms and occasional staff. A Smith Group report says that Londoners can't afford to live here. Like, duh: most Londoners can't even afford to visit for their tea.
But here's Rock Lobsta, the new restaurant in the nightclub Mahiki. Oh, come on, don't tell me you haven't heard of it, seen the pics of baby royals and Made-In-Chelseas staggering out into Dover Street, spangled every which way. (And if you haven't, you clearly adhere to far loftier reading material than I do.) This knowingly trashy gaff scoffs at the Mayfair template, the muslined-lemon establishments where million-pound deals take place and moguls indulge in "playful tiffs" with their wives. It teeters towards affordable, and anyone with the foresight to book is in, even me in my non-skyscraper heels and stoutly un-bandagey frock.
It's billed as "East End punk lobster bar meets West End Polynesian Paradise", a line bound to bring one out in hives. Certainly, the wealthy punters seem perplexed by the scallop-shell lampshades and frenzy of South Pacific toot, bemusedly slurping cocktails from tiki beakers and nibbling on lobster "corn dogs", a torpedo-shaped item as bouncy and unfathomable as Geri Halliwell.
It's the work of "itinerant chef" Carl Clarke, responsible for a number of food-based happenings in the capital: Disco Bistro, the English Launderette, a clambake called God Save The Clam (subhead Never Mind The Scallops). This, with its punk and ska soundtrack, is intended to be his first permanent restaurant. I'm not overburdened with high hopes.
But in among the short menu of corn dogs and the inevitable burger (with pineapple and bacon jam, obviously) are some lovely, cheffier things: wild seabass with passion fruit and pickled ginger; salad from Keveral Farm. The quality is a little startling: Clarke is obsessive about sourcing, utilising a network of indie suppliers. The aged Dexter ribeye I order is so ripe in flavour and buttery in texture, it's hard not to eat it open-mouthed. It doesn't need its vulgarian peppery, creamy "house sauce", but there's that swanky-junk thing going on here that precludes simplicity and clean flavours.
We have "beer cheese": several cheeses mashed up with truffle oil, crumbed and fried in beef dripping. No idea if that's right, but that's what it tastes like. A line of gooseberry ketchup is piped on top. Satan's bar snacks. There are scallops with apple and, yes, the dreaded charcoal oil, but used as a fleeting base note, not a truncheon. The hero dish, with its steamed brioche bun and mayo-bathed, tender crustacean, is as good a lobster roll as you'll get outside Maine. And the staff, in their tropical halter dresses or mini carhop outfits, are posh and pretty and friendly.
This is a weird old crustacean altogether, but it almost works. I teeter off into the night with a Mahiki stamp on the back of my hand like a battle scar, wondering who Rock Lobsta is aimed at. Not Clarke's usual hipster constituency, surely, unless reverse slumming. Perhaps the young Asian guys in the club downstairs who order a £150 Treasure Chest cocktail for eight – delivered with a fanfare of indoor fireworks – but don't drink it because… well, they don't drink? Perhaps not. The brooding blokes and bandaged gals are more at home in the likes of Nobu and Novikov. This is shonky fun with food that defies its rattan bar environment, but feels more Dalston than Dover Street. Chalk it down to an anthropological experience.
• Rock Lobsta at Mahiki 1 Dover Street, London W1S 4LD, 020-7493 9529. Open dinner only, Mon-Sat, 5-10pm (11pm Fri and Sat). About £35 a head for three courses, plus drinks and service.
Food 6/10
Atmosphere 6/10 (if you have a taste for Tiki)
Value for money 7/10
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