Going for dinner at a hotel is A Very American Thing To Do.
Most Brits will only eat at a hotel if they are actually staying there and can’t be arsed to leave the building in order to get fed. It’s fitting then, that the NoMad’s newly revamped in-house restaurant is a high-octane tribute to the big, ballsy American brasserie.
It’s good, but it’ll send your arteries straight to hell
Previously known as the slightly more descriptive ‘Atrium’, the roomy, well, hotel atrium’s rebrand as Twenty8 NoMad also reeks of flashy New York, utilising the kind of chaotic jumble of letters and numbers that brings to mind Manhattan staples Bungalow 8 and Eleven Madison Park. It’s brash, even grating, but we’ll give it a pass, as it fits the aesthetic bang on, which is all Manhattan-by-way-of-the-Marais, an extravagant Yank take on the French brassiere, complete with excessively high ceilings, balustrades and balconies. ‘Intimate’ it is not, but cosy is overrated, and we’re struggling to think of anywhere else in London that seems at once like peak Studio 54 and the ideal date spot for Romeo and Juliet.
Into this truly special space steps a lavish ‘raw bar’, supersized-steak frites and an entire menu devoted to the martini. Our dirty vodka offering comes with a whole second helping, courtesy of a sidecar on ice, as well as three blue-cheese stuffed olives. It’s the first in a carnival of oversized (read: American) offerings. A starter of crispy artichokes, which, though deep fried, are surprisingly light, and also very big boys. It’s easy to see why our prawn cocktail doesn’t arrive in a bowl; it’s their sheer size. Veritable baby arms of seafood (even with the heads taken off), and served with a pot of humming horseradish cocktail sauce. Then comes a bowl of mussels (all of them fastidiously turned face up), in a creamy green curry sauce accessorised with bubbly, burnished roti. It might seem inconspicuous on a menu dedicated to brassiere classics, but it works through sheer dint of its deliciousness - and yes, they also seem larger than your average bivalve.
Mains too are mighty, and a glossy lobster pasta is almost demonic in its execution. Using what we can only assume is an entire block of butter, a hearty grind of black pepper, smattering of chives and huge lumps of lurid lobster, the chef has created a dish worthy of beelzebub’s own dinner party. It’s good, but it’ll send your arteries straight to hell, is what we’re saying.
Did we have room for dessert? Did we heck. A minty grasshopper cocktail stood in for an actual pudding, and, in true bountiful American style, we were packed off with a small box of chocolate bon-bons. Bigger isn't always better, but it certainly seems to be when you’re at Twenty8 NoMad.
The vibe A very good-looking hotel restaurant.
The food Epic portions of French/American bistro classics.
The drink There’s a whole martini menu as well as classic cocktails and high-end, high-price wine.
Time Out tip Far be it from us to intentionally undercut a restaurant, but the starters here are sizable. If there’s two of you, it wouldn’t be out of the question to order one each and then a main to share along with a side.