This restaurant is housed in a magnificent building with a stunning, but cavernous, interior, it is for that that I give the two stars. Apparently they have great seafood (it better be at the prices listed) but unfortunately I can't say anything about that because the service was so terrible that my friend and I never ordered. It was around brunch-time on a weekend, yet the restaurant was deserted (never a good sign) with several wait-staff hanging around in a group, by the entrance, very, very far away from our table.
Despite having nothing to do, and having seen us walk straight past them to sit down, no one brought us menus until we literally made noises to get their attention. The waiter didn't offer us drinks or bring us water but just plopped down the menus and then went back to the group until we were able to get his attention again, several minutes later.
I wanted to order the Eggs Royale, which is an Eggs Benedict style dish only with smoked salmon substituting for the ham/bacon. However, I noticed that nowhere else on the menu did smoked salmon appear which seemed odd for a seafood house. I am already well-versed in the lousy habit of some restaurants, especially in London, who will sell "familiar dishes" only it turns out that the chef has deviated wildly from the recipe but not warned the customer. I have had "Caeser's Salad" made with boiled eggs, tomatoes and spinach leaves; I have had "American pancakes" as thin and flat as a crepe; I have had hamburgers made with half sausage pork. So I decided to ask the waiter if the Eggs Royale was indeed made with smoked salmon.
First mistake: he didn't immediately know the answer and had to go to the kitchen, which took a relatively long time. Second mistake: when he returned, he told me that in fact they do it with their own house-smoked whitefish but not in any kind of apologetic way but just as information "that's how we make it". "OK, but as I continued to point out, it's not "Eggs Royale" then, is it? If I hadn't asked you, I would have been unhappy when my food arrived, so you really must tell the chef to either call it something else, make the recipe the way it's supposed to be made, or note on the menu, the variation. Right?"
Blah blah blah. I might as well have been explaining algebra to a field of daisies. His face bore only the vaguest signs of comprehension. That's because he barely spoke any English. London restaurants seem to hire their waitstaff based on a proven lack of ability to communicate in the host language. It's a self-perpetuating cycle: the society doesn't respect service industry as being "real jobs" so they let just anybody do it any old way, so the jobs are considered low paid and unskilled, so they get unskilled people to do em for low pay, so nobody tips, so now it's a no-tipping culture, so nobody is rewarded when they do give good service, so those good service people don't stay in the business, so the whole industry ends up having a rotten-to-the-core, built-in, culture of "why bother" service. That is "Great Britain" for you.
After just getting blank looks for my feedback, my friend and I left without ordering and went across the street where I had....you guessed it, Eggs Royale, which was indeed made correctly, with smoked salmon. Sadly, I don't remember the name of the place but if you are standing on the steps of Bibendum it is diagonally across the street and over the intersection. read more