Restaurants

To get you in the mood for a bite to eat here, drop into the wildly outré Rivoli Bar with its faux leopard-skin chairs, seashell scalloped ceiling and gilded, mirrored, Lalique-embellished, orchid-strewn everything else. A cocktail or glass of bubbly at £18 will also give you a taste of what’s to come, for a meal at the Ritz is really only comfortable for the comfortably well-off, and men who still wear red socks and women who say ‘good-oh!’ on a frequent basis. Food under executive chef John Williams has come a long way over the past few years and the lighter touch is far more befitting this century than the previous one – but the extraordinary prices are no joke for anyone on an average salary. No doubt that’s the way regulars and the management prefer things to be, with nary a ripple on their gilded façade. ‘Definitely, definitely no trainers or jeans,’ said the man taking the bookings. Expect high-quality, attractively presented and extravagant dishes served with bling (except that the silver is very real and very antique), such as seared scallops with mooli and crab spring roll brought together with a hint of crystallised ginger, or main-course classics such as hand-carved smoked salmon and trimmings, or boiled brisket and tongue with baby spring vegetables and chive butter sauce. We asked if we could take our petits fours home with us and the manager was only too happy to oblige – as all the staff are. But the delicate little pastries came back to us bouncing around in a box big enough to stow away a wardrobe, which pretty much sums up the Ritz: it’s big on appearances.

Time Out Eating & Drinking Guide 2008