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The Ivy’s roll-out of branded grills, brasseries and cafés might be one of the most aggressive in recent memory. (An Ivy! In Guildford!) But there’s much to be said for its new Soho space. Art-covered and shiny as heck, its likely demographic of business lunchers, in-the-know shoppers, pre-theatre families and the like will love it.
The food is mostly a mix of crowd-pleasing Ivy classics and elevated home cooking. Truffle arancini were stringy with cheese, their flavour earthy and intense. No cursory slosh of truffle oil on old rice here, no sir. Also textbook was a prawn cocktail, topped with fat shellfish and good Marie Rose. It’s retro stuff.
Things went a bit ‘suburban dinner party’ with the mains. First: a duck curry. Or rather, The Ivy’s version of a duck curry – which meant a timid bowl of coconut-heavy, chilli-light sauce with some decent duck meat. The classic shepherd’s pie was great, though: spoonable comfort food of the highest order.
A chocolate bombe pudding (another Ivy icon) looked grand, a golden orb collapsing in on itself under a torrent of hot salted caramel. The resulting puddle was less photogenic, but deliciously rich.
So, overall: generally good and sometimes great food in a snazzy spot that’s a few quid cheaper than the famous original. It may not be The Ivy proper, but as a casual, accessible alternative, it’s nothing to be sniffed at.