‘The food is a wodge of stodge, a school dinner in regal drag’
Oh, the fragrant beauty of this place. Permatanned restaurant mogul Richard Caring’s Caprice Holdings has come up with a fantasy cross between the platonic ideal French brasserie and an English country garden as designed by Cecil Beaton. It’s a long time since I’ve walked into somewhere and had socks quite so thoroughly knocked off – I’m impressed sockless.
Perhaps that’s why it’s impossible to get into? Booking a fortnight in advance, I still only manage a 6.30pm table. We’re told that much of the huge restaurant is reserved for walk-ins, but as I wait by reception, hopeful after hopeful is rejected and cast from Elysium. Their expressions, as eyes scour rooms linked by a zinc-topped bar – all shiny silverware, burnt orange furnishings, acres of botanical prints, marble and parquet floors – is one of almost existential regret. The pastoral orangery mocks them, blowing perfect raspberries in their faces. And they haven’t even seen the garden yet.
Continue reading...