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Palm originated in New York in the 1920s; it now has outposts across the States, from Boston to Los Angeles, but this is its only location in Europe. It fits right into its Belgravia milieu of embassies and designer handbag shops, but stands out in the London dining scene as an American import that doesn’t quite translate.
Low lighting, white napery and large, solid booths create a perfectly comfortable setting, and the welcome basket of assorted breads was lovely. However, having a monotone waitress deliver a rehearsed spiel about different cuts of meat, while presenting them on a tray plastered with cling film, smacked a little of David Lynch and didn’t do much for the appetite.
A wedge salad starter (based on iceberg lettuce) was fine, but topped with onions that were chewy, not crispy. On a previous trip here, the steaks were overcooked; this time, they were bloodier than they should have been (‘rare’ came just on the right side of cooked, but ‘medium-well’ was still oozing plenty of juice). The meat was certainly delicious – in the US, there’s nothing better than these grain-fed cattle – but grass-fed British beef is just as good.
Perhaps the import duty is also responsible for the elevated prices, with steaks topping £40. On our visit, most diners were Americans reluctant to step out of their comfort zone.