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As restaurant gimmicks go, one of London’s most enduring must be Bob Bob Ricard’s tableside ‘press for champagne’ buttons. A full 15 years after this Soho temple to oligraphican-style brasserie dining (menu highlights include caviar, ice-cold vodka and many a kyiv) opened in 2008, these decadent drinker’s doorbells still raise a smirk.
There is no such stunt architecture at BBR’s latest offspring, Bebe Bob, which you’ll find a mere skip away from the original’s Golden Square-adjacent location. The room though is as glamorous and gilded as its neighbouring restaurant zaddy. There is dangerously low-slung velvet seating, black marble tables and, at the back of the space, what feels like a 1970s conversation pit; all brown curved leather and boasting a camp-y Playboy mansion energy. Interior design seduction aside, the gimmick at Bebe Bob is more instantaneously edible than BBR’s booze buttons, and comes in the form of a menu based entirely around rotisserie chicken. With no substitutes.
For anyone who’s ever rolled into Sainsbury’s at 9pm and decided that yes, a warm rotisserie chicken in a sweaty bag is all they want to eat, Bebe Bob is heaven
Vegans would do well to keep walking down Beak Street to Mildred’s for their supper, as the options here are limited. Even the scallops, salmon and steak options from BBR have been done away with. ‘Any main course the customer wants as long as it is chicken or chicken’, says the menu, with the options being a whole Vendée bird from Western France, or one from Landes in Gascony. It’s also the kind of place you’ll need to come with a date, as both are served for two; the former offers a softer meat (and is also cheaper at £19 a head), while the latter promises to be firmer under the fork as well as on the pocket at £29 per person.
For anyone who’s ever rolled into Sainsbury’s at 9pm and decided that yes, a warm rotisserie chicken in a sweaty bag is all they want to eat, Bebe Bob is heaven, serving up the classiest-ever version of the lazy woman’s dream dinner. We plumped for the outdoor reared Vendée, after pondering where we’d like to live out our days were we a young chicken, and deciding that frolicking freely by the sandy beaches of Saint-Jean-de-Monts sounded like the tastier life.
Divvied up tableside between our two plates – with a chicken oyster placed elegantly on top of each helping – every diner gets their own pot of creamy chicken jus, as rich as Donald Trump and just as thick – perfect for pouring over the extremely well-cooked poultry, but also excellent for dipping golden fries into. There’s a brief but well thought-out selection of sides, with a pungent sauteed kale with garlic and an earthy truffled cauliflower cheese. If anything, Bebe Bob could perhaps reign in the truffling (there are also truffled fries on the menu), though it would be sheer deviance if our divine starter of baked Saint Marcellin cheese with truffle honey and a festive dollop of apple chutney was taken off the menu.
Bebe Bob’s menu might be limited, but the glitz certainly isn’t.
The vibe Vintage decadence from the team behind Soho mainstay Bob Bob Ricard.
The food Excellently-done rotisserie chicken with a series of vintage sides.
The drink Champagne is a must and starts at £14 for a glass of Moët in Bebe Bob’s distinctive crystalware.
Time Out tip Ask to be sat in the seductive, shag-pad style space at the far end of the restaurant. There’s also an express lunch for £24 every day before 5pm, which includes half a chicken, fries and a salad.