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Houseplants are the new house cats for cramped Londoners. Our growing obsession with greenery has seen plant shops springing up in unlikely corners of the capital; and now, providing a verdant home from home, there’s a bar packed to the gills with flora – the first of three launches in 2018 from the Mr Fogg’s bar group.
The upstairs cocktail lounge can be squarely filed under ‘girls’ night out’ (the venue is spread over two levels, with a rowdy post-work crowd on the lower one enjoying the pub-style layout). Gaggles seemed glued to their mobiles: camera-phone flashes illuminated the room with steady regularity and armchairs in clashy prints suited the posing posse – especially when their cocktails arrived in teacups.
The menu, titled ‘The Language of Flowers’, includes cute sketches of pretty posies and words like ‘happiness’, ‘confidence’ and ‘passion’ in calligraphy. This bar clearly gets its audience, and even if it comes across as twee, it does do great drinks. We had a fair old wait for ours, but flavours were beautifully balanced (a light, expressive gin met with strong floral notes and silkiness in the Pink Rose).
All the noise from below created a sort of frenzied, jungle feeling. Downstairs, table service was slow (to be fair, I was hidden behind a palm tree) and much less conscientious. And snacks didn’t keep up with the standard of drinks. But again, cocktails with delicate garnishes were well executed and are clearly Mr Fogg’s strong point.
For dizzy horticultural heights and drinks to match, pack the Piriton and head up those stairs.