Two's company. A few words on food, drink and little adventures! @atablefortwoLDN
Smattered through London are examples of a golden era. Like old men of the city, those remaining examples of an Art Deco time stoop distinguished amongst the new. The Wolseley is one of the great examples of places where time stood still treating each guest to a trip in the past.
Stepping in from the bustling Piccadilly streets of camera clad tourists you’ll find much needed luxury with brass, marble and stone dominating the dining hall of this beautiful restaurant. Tables were already bustling with hungry diners and seemed like we were not the only ones with early bookings. Whilst few places would shift us out of bed early on a Saturday morning, we were happy to deliberate over a well executed breakfast menu at 9am. Everything from the traditional English to the lighter continental equivalents filled the pages accompanied by a generous drinks list.
Given our early rise, we were quick to order coffee, which like expected was fresh and promptly served. The accompanying order of grapefruit juice was freshly squeezed and a large silver pot of Earl Grey came, loose of course served with various utensils to inject some interest in the simple art of making a cuppa.
As the place filled, time stagnated in between drinks and placing the breakfast order. We ordered the pancakes with berries, and the smoked salmon, scrambled eggs with toasted pain du champagne.
Linen napkins and placemats came, summoning the arrival of the breakfast. An eye popping stack of American buttermilk pancakes topped with a tart berry coulis and accompanied with a vat of maple syrup caused envious stares from those who opted for lesser pastries. The smoked salmon, was as eye catching as the latter.
Tasting as good as they looked, the pancakes were a clear winning dish. A generous stack of perfectly crisp pancakes with fluffy centres, adorned with cream and berries is pure pleasure with every mouthful and an absolute must for any artful diner.
Sadly the scrambled egg were a little less of a hoot. Accompanied only by two halves of toast, it made us yearn at breakfasts being served with great burdening toast racks. Sadly this wasn’t the case and we were left with a unsatisfying egg to toast ratio. The eggs however, were well cooked and seasoned but somewhat easily forgotten. The Wolseley is so much more than a restaurant, it is an institution, therefore any slight dampening in the menu can easily be overlooked. We’ve grown up with the phrase: ‘breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like a pauper. Although we’d suggest an edit, ‘breakfast at the Wolseley’.
London W1J 9EB
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