I started this column with one question: when is it really worth it? Restaurants have never been shy about separating you from your money, and lately it feels like they’d charge for air if they could get away with it. Some meals, though, make you glad you handed over your card at the end. So I try them for you – the splashy openings, the whisper-quiet gems, the big-ego tasting menus and the surprise bargains – and report back so you can decide if your wallet (and your patience) can take it.
This time, I did the unthinkable: I left London. Not that you’d know it from the evidence. The martini still arrived before anything else, the bump of roe was suspiciously large and I’m fairly sure someone was paid to whisper “foraged” every fifteen minutes just to keep the Londoners calm. Some habits die hard.
