We make most of the bookings before we go. Sometimes it works out really well, this time it was a mixed bag. Some surprises, some disappointments, and a new low — a restaurant missing key dishes on their menu. Here is a small recap over some of the restaurants we visited.
We had talked about trying a Sunday Roast for a while, and when the day finally came, we went all in. The Game Bird at The Stafford London turned out to be exactly the kind of place we were hoping for.
We started with a glass in the American Bar, where the ceiling is covered in caps, ties, and military patches. It felt unexpected in a five-star hotel, but it fits the history. During the Second World War, The Stafford housed American and Canadian officers. The wine cellar served as air-raid shelters, and many officers left personal items behind—turning the cellars into a kind of informal small museum.
Then it was time for the main event: roasted beef, Yorkshire pudding, crisp potatoes, rich gravy, and all the classics. It was delicious. Before dessert, the sommelier invited us down to see the cellar—a quiet, atmospheric place that felt frozen in time.
We finished with sticky toffee pudding, sweet and warm. Sunday Roast has officially become a new obsession. The Game Bird set the bar high.
The Game Bird
The Stafford London, 16-18 St James’s Place, London
Sometimes we get it wrong. We were up for spring rolls, something spicy like Pad Kra Pao. Koyn had just opened a Thai restaurant beneath their Japanese one. It sounded like a good idea at the time. It was Saturday lunchtime.
We arrived to an almost empty restaurant, with just one other couple sitting in the corner. The tables faced the kitchen, so you could see what was going on. Not much, in this case.
We ordered water and a glass of rosé. There were two listed. A while later, the waiter returned and apologised—only the Italian rosé from Puglia was available.
Time to choose dishes. I told him I had a few menu questions. How big were the spring rolls? How many do you get? We were thinking of sharing. His answer? They were out today. He then started pointing at other dishes that were also unavailable—basically everything we had come for. And it was not like the menu had fifty dishes to juggle.
At that point, we understood: this restaurant is doomed. We told him we were leaving and asked to pay for the water. The wine had not arrived.
Yes, the warning signs were blinking from the start. If a restaurant cannot manage spring rolls and the basics on a Saturday, something is not working. Just empty tables, missing wine, and a kitchen with nothing to cook.
Koyn
38 Grosvenor Street, London
We visited Murano for dinner, and the room was mostly filled with businessmen having loud conversations.
Murano is an Italian restaurant with one Michelin star, and it delivered a strong start. My wife had the Garganelli Primavera with pea pesto and Datterini tomatoes, while I went for the scallops, both perfectly cooked and very tasty. The bread service came with charcuterie, which was a nice touch.
We had Hereford beef for the main course. It was more raw than cooked. Either tell the guest or say so on the menu, some people have a beef with raw meat.
The service moved at a good pace, but it felt slightly rushed, with staff constantly moving around the room. The layout was also a bit awkward, and the table placement felt slightly off.
The real issue was the acoustics. We sat in the middle by the wall, and I could hear full conversations from the far end of the room. The sound bounced everywhere. It was an acoustic nightmare.
But we will be back. Next time, we are aiming for table number 1 by the entrance, or table number 20 tucked away beside the bar.
Murano
20 Queen St, London
La Môme may look like a Berkeley restaurant, but it is not. It operates independently and is not part of the Maybourne Hotel Group, even though you reach it just inside The Berkeley’s entrance, to the right. It now occupies the former space of Marcus Wareing’s Michelin-starred restaurant, along with what used to be the hotel’s breakfast room, now relocated to a café by reception. A definite downgrade for Berkeley guests.
La Môme is big, glossy, and unmistakably chic, with a glamorous Riviera-inspired design and even a terrace outside. It is beautifully done. But design will only take you so far, the food and service need to keep up.
The menu felt generic, and so did the flavours. The food was fine, but not memorable. The service was a mix of sleepy and snobbish, surprising for a newly opened restaurant trying to make a name in London. La Môme may channel the Riviera from Cannes and Monte Carlo, but here, it was all surface and no soul.
We asked to charge the bill to our room. They grunted and said fine. Then we mentioned we were staying at Claridge’s.
Then it was suddenly not possible. Normally, charges between Maybourne hotels are encouraged. Lunch at The Connaught? No problem. La Môme, on the other hand, missed the mark — on all levels.
La Môme
16 Albemarle St, London
Wild Honey was such a strange experience. It holds a Michelin star, which puzzles us. The restaurant is located inside the Sofitel London St James hotel, with the Michelin restaurant Wild Honey St James on one side and the casual Bistrot at Wild Honey on the other. The two are separated by a long central banquette with a curtain. You cannot see the other guests, but you can hear them. Two very different mode settings, and the same music playing across both sides.
If we thought Zén in Singapore played it loud and questionable, this was a new ball game. JJ Cale’s Cocaine blasted from the speakers and stuck in my head for the rest of the trip. The rest of the playlist was in the same style, loud, odd, and impossible to ignore.
The food was overpretentious, badly executed, and the flavours clashed more than they came together. The canapés were strange. The menu sounded good, but when the dishes arrived on the plate, it just did not add up.
The service was another low point, sleepy at best. The room was not much better, with only a few tables occupied. It felt like an abandoned restaurant. We even had battery candles on the table—not exactly Michelin signals.
The chef came out after seeing how little we had eaten. Odd, but he wanted to know what went wrong. We gave him our honest opinion, and he struck everything except the wine from the bill. We left hungry.
Wild Honey St James
8 Pall Mall, St. James’s, London
The way the fat hangs off the end really does look… unfortunate.
We had been recommended this restaurant, so hopes were on the plus side. The restaurant was packed with lunch guests, mostly from nearby offices.
I was in the mood for a steak and ordered a rib eye with chips and Béarnaise sauce. I do not know what kind of cut it was, but a rib eye, really?! It had the consistency of a rump steak, chewy and dense. And for £48, what were they thinking?
The restaurant is loud, crazy loud. Easily climbing onto our soon-to-be top ten loudest restaurants in the world. At some point, it felt almost harmful for the staff working there. My watch showed around 80 to 85 dB.
It was a relief to step out into the “quiet” London streets again. I could almost hear my ears breathing.
The wine list was okay, and the service was very good. If you are not into day drinking at the bar and having loud conversations with the people around you, this is not for you.
45 Jermyn St
Fortnum & Mason, 45 Jermyn St, St. James’s, London
We were in the neighbourhood and decided to head over to Jean-Georges at The Connaught for lunch. A good decision.
Impeccable. The service was friendly, the restaurant was calm and inviting, and everything just clicked. My dish, Parmesan crusted chicken with lemon basil sauce, was superb. Still remember that sauce.
A perfect lunch spot in Mayfair.
Jean-Georges at The Connaught
The Connaught, Carlos Pl, London
Josephine delivers solid French cooking. Opened by Claude and Lucy Bosi as a tribute to Claude’s mother, Josephine, and the bouchon she ran outside Lyon, it feels like being transported straight to France.
The service is super friendly, just like you would expect at your neighbourhood restaurant back home, and the atmosphere is lively without feeling hectic.
The restaurant sits on a corner of Fulham Road. It was bigger than we had expected, but not big—just enough to stay cosy.
Their potato dauphinoise deserves a special mention—rich, creamy, and every bit as good as its reputation suggests. But perhaps it lacked a little garlic for ultimate perfection.
A very good spot for anyone in the area craving proper French food.
Eight restaurants, one city, and plenty of options. London always offers variety, and this trip was no exception. From a flawless Sunday Roast to a £48 chew-fest… we had our highs, lows, and everything in between.
Some places delivered exactly what we were looking for. Others left us wondering how they got there in the first place. Either way, the hunt for new culinary adventures continues.
✽ The cover picture features Sunday Roast at The Game Bird
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