quote:Originally posted by London: I feel like I've been tricked!
I hope we can settle this amicably out of court. I didn't mean to cause such distress by suggesting such lewd things were possible for such a demure, innocent like yourself.
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i'm a big fan of le trois garcons (e2), which is still popular with the primrose hill *****. next door's loungelover is awesome. been there quite a few times since getting back to london. bustling LA style bar with beautiful staff, great drinks, tasty overpriced snacks. Neither is particluarly exclusive, al;thugh loundelover does have a vip area somewhere.
cafe de paris is probably hip again - i heard they were turning it around. stupid brown's and opium are still popular, if over the hill. someone said china white is really cool, but i think they were lying / mad.
panjeer's is a ridiculously overpriced bar restaurant kinda place for very rich / connected *****. their cute lil alcoves have a minimum spend of like five grand or something. full of new russians, eurotrash, texans and slutty sloanes falling out of their whore dresses. went to a wedding party thing there a while back (daughter of moscow mafia - you get the idea about this place. sertainly if i was a centurion cardholder, it would be the kind of place i'd wanna go).
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I've always wanted to to go the Trois Garcons. It's right near where I used to live. I feel really sad now, like doing a cry.
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A couple of CHEAP restaurant recommendations (so not for centurion cardholders):
Kaslik. Greek Street, Soho. Excellent little Lebanese place. Family run I think. Been there twice. Loved it so much first time, had my 25th there the other month. Interesting Lebanese wines, flavoured tobaccos, cosy, funky lil private room downstairs. Staff can be arsey, but then this is Britain.
African Kitchen. Drummond Street, Euston. Great for lunch. Tiny cafe specialising in West African dishes. Best staff ever (Spanish dude by way of the Nubian and absolutely charming Nigerian guy). Left the biggest tip here (percentage wise). Very very cheap.
This should be a thread. TMO version of Time Out Cheap Eats. We could do London, Manchester, Amsterdam....
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The Real Greek. Somewhere Hoxton I think. Not been myself. My mate went on Valentine's. "v.expensive & brilliant food" he says. Natalie Portman and Sofia Coppola were there that night.
Kensington Roof Gardens.
Tower 42 (which is the same as Vertigo, no? - I am very confused now., must drink less) "v.expensive, amazing views, Champagne Magnum for £1200, Gary Rhodes food"
A friend saw Kovacs fave Scarlett Johannsen and Woody Allen filming on the Fulham Road this morning. So wherever she goes will be hip for the next month at least. Haven't bought heat yet - I'm sure she'll be in this week's 'spotted' section.
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There is a restaurant near Wandsworth Common called Chez Bruce. Ignoring the slightly suburban location and god-awful name, this is supposedly one of the best restaurants in the city. Booked up weeks in advance and a regular haunt of chefs on their nights off, this medium-priced, modern european restaurant tucked away in leafy Wandsworth is - by pretty much all acounts - a bit of a gem. http://travel.guardian.co.uk/restaurants/story/0,13739,1002585,00.html
Edit: I haven't been there (yet) but friends and relatives tell me it is wonderful.
quote:Originally posted by SilverGinger5: If you had £100,000 to spend on one day out in London, what would you do.
So there you go, SG5. The answer is that the majority of posters on this thread would go and eat food, at the kind of place where it would be hard to actually keep your food down coz you'd be *shudder*-ing so much at the sight of people wedged that far up their own OXO towers.
None would hire a butler and a maid for the day, then go to the Serpentine to take an invigorating dip, wearing silk and lace swimming attire naturally, before a brisk rubbing down with a warmed towel by the maid, followed by caviar and vodka prepared by the gentleman's gentleman.
Afterwards, none of them would take the Bentley down to Harrods and spend three hours in the toy department, buying a diamond encrusted yo-yo and a cricket set hand-carved from rare woods and ivory.
None of them would head for the music shops off Charing Cross Road to be hand measured for a Jimmy Page signature Gibson Les Paul, with complementary Marshall stack and gold earplugs.
Feeling a little peckish, none of them would take a luxurious suite overlooking Hyde Park and have a five course meal, each course served up on a different naked virgin, each hailing from a separate corner of the former British Empire and each singing a local folk song as the meal progressed.
None of them would arrange a private viewing of the musical, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, whilst out of their heads on "toot sweets" and being licked all over by Truly Scrumptious and her twin sister Truly Filthy.
And, finally, none would retire to their yacht, moored just downstream from Tower Bridge and ready to sail as soon as the master had drifted off into a guilt free sleep, that he might wake up maybe two days later in a fjord, or to a Bahaman sunrise perhaps.
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After all your fantastic suggestions, I'm afraid to say they didn't ask anything about eating out in London at all.
I was there armed with Dang's suggestions eager to let them know, but they just asked questions like "If your manager was here now, how would they describe you?"
Well, at least now if I ever stumble across huge amounts of cash, I know how to spend it.
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I am just off to a South African restaurant in Crouch End (!) which is very highly rated by a lot of my friends. Mind you, none of them know anything about posh restaurants either, but I will report back...
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quote:Originally posted by Abby: None of us know posh restaurants.
Speak for yourself - I had lunch at Claridge's last week. Does that count as posh? They had one of them blokes in the left wot pulls the grill shut for you and then presses the button.
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Octavia
I hate Valentine's Day. Stupid commercialised crap
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Did you tip him? I hope you tipped him.
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Of course not, no. I was at a press launch. I would have tipped him if he could have given me a receipt so I could claim it back on expenses. Also: if he seriously expects a tip he should try doing something - you know - useful. Not shutting a door and pressing a button, for fuck's sake. Whatever next? Tipping someone for handing you a paper towel everytime you go for a piss?
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The Real Greek. Somewhere Hoxton I think. Not been myself. My mate went on Valentine's. "v.expensive & brilliant food" he says. Natalie Portman and Sofia Coppola were there that night.
Kensington Roof Gardens.
Tower 42 (which is the same as Vertigo, no? - I am very confused now., must drink less) "v.expensive, amazing views, Champagne Magnum for £1200, Gary Rhodes food"
A friend saw Kovacs fave Scarlett Johannsen and Woody Allen filming on the Fulham Road this morning. So wherever she goes will be hip for the next month at least. Haven't bought heat yet - I'm sure she'll be in this week's 'spotted' section.
Real Greek is overrated, and the food is not that good...in the restaurant. Go next door to the mezze restaurant; utterly reasonable and, perversely, much better. Far better decor, too.
Vertigo is unutterably naff - full of traders and smarmy bankers trying to pull 19 year old interns. And groups of vacation students being treated by their law firms. Rubbish - obviously amazing views though.
Oxo Tower - naff, also-ran food.
Ramsay's restaurant at Claridges - excellent. Pricey.
Ivy - funny, in a C-List way. Good food, actually.
Fifteen - fashion victimtastic, food cooked by people whose brothers deal crack.
Trois Garcons - very good, but staff can be iunbelievably pretentious. Lovely food, though.
Lounge Lover - Beautiful; people and cocktails.
Light Bar, Sanderson Hotel. Expensive cocktails, still a fabulus bar (in terms of design). Members/guests bar has more hookers than I have seen anywhere else in London.
What to do with £100k in London for the day? Fuck knows. But it would involve more imagination than going to the crappest, most expensive restaurant I could find.
At the very least, I'd get them to deliver it to my Suite so I could share it with the call girls.
quote:Originally posted by Bandy: There is a restaurant near Wandsworth Common called Chez Bruce. Ignoring the slightly suburban location and god-awful name, this is supposedly one of the best restaurants in the city. Booked up weeks in advance and a regular haunt of chefs on their nights off, this medium-priced, modern european restaurant tucked away in leafy Wandsworth is - by pretty much all acounts - a bit of a gem. http://travel.guardian.co.uk/restaurants/story/0,13739,1002585,00.html
Edit: I haven't been there (yet) but friends and relatives tell me it is wonderful.
Spot on. It's superb.
Chez Bruce is a joke name - chap that owns it is called Bruce, and did the post ironic pretentious thing. Like.
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I'm staying at the Oriental Mandarin hotel in Hyde park very soon. I'm excited as the rooms are fuckoff expensive and I'm paying nothing. Rock and Roll, or something like that.
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quote:Originally posted by Thorn Davis: Whatever next? Tipping someone for handing you a paper towel everytime you go for a piss?
I believe there are many multi-billionaires that employ special men to hand out tips on their behalf, get VAT receipts for the issued tips, and take 15% of each issued tip for themselves, ensuring that they provide a VAT receipt for each tip-from-a-tip. Every now and then these multi-billionaires get their secretaries to call a special agency which sends over temporary tippers to give special tips to the special full-time men that issue the tips normally, ensuring that the full-time men provide VAT receipts, naturally. The full-time men then tip the part-time tippers, get VAT receipts and dismiss them. I understand that extremely wealthy people do this sort of thing all the time.
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quote:Originally posted by SilverGinger5: I'm staying at the Oriental Mandarin hotel in Hyde park very soon. I'm excited as the rooms are fuckoff expensive and I'm paying nothing. Rock and Roll, or something like that.
They're fuckoff expensive but they're not all that tbh.
Once I had to massage an arms dealer who was staying there who kept me waiting for 30 mins, then the butler made me rearrange the furniture in the room to fit the massage couch in. When he did arrive (had been being fitted for two new suits) he talked on two mobiles throughout the massage and sat there naked occasionally shouting "harder on the shoulders" in a break between phone conversations. I had asked him to keep himself covered while I was massaging him but the towel kept on slipping. Then he didn't tip me. That was the last hotel massage I ever did. It sickened me.
quote:Originally posted by dang65: I believe there are many multi-billionaires that employ special men to hand out tips on their behalf
Also, did you know, that in Wild West saloons they used to have special topless girls whose job was to go around emptying the spittoons. "Grolly Dollies" they were affectionately known as.
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