London Eater

Up to this point, I had been singing the praises, when the pudding appeared before us I was positively on my feet.  It filled our side of the room with regal aromas.  The waiter left us with a jug of custard and pouring the golden juice onto the orange sponge it was strangely satisfying.  The tart was very warm, distinctly light and dizzyingly sweet.  Successful execution once again...

Every dish was beautifully cooked and everything about the place highly produced but here's the beauty - in amongst all that world beating elegance it felt gregarious, almost as if I was dining in Josef Sheekey's humble oyster bar.

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