The first sign that the restaurant wasn’t exactly a “family restaurant”—the interior decor. Magnificent orb lights hang high upon the ceiling. Stained glass. Cushy leather barstools, moss green booths and dark wood tables. And let’s not forget the wallpaper: bold and bright in various shades of green, it’s reminiscent of a deep, tropical forest that one wouldn’t mind getting lost in, giving off a kind of cozy, high class vibe. From the moment you step in, you see it. Everything just shimmers, from the wraparound bar with gleaming wine glasses hanging upside down to the endless bottles of alcohol to the diners themselves.
The mood is dark, yet elegantly so. There are waiters who dress like they’re going to a cocktail party. High heels, Oxfords, pumps, and dress shoes. Business suits. Wrap dresses and floral blouses and pencil skirts. It feels intimate, exactly the kind of place you would take someone you’re very excited to get to know on a first date. Not the kind of place that a hungry family of four should dine on a weekday afternoon.
But that’s exactly where we found ourselves—at The Ivy Victoria, just steps away from Buckingham Palace in Westminster.
It was May 22nd, our first day in London. So far, we made the Eurostar train from Paris to London on time (unlike the other debacle), and after getting a good night’s sleep, the four of us headed out for a day of fun and sightseeing.
We booked the Hop On Hop Off Bus Tour (highly recommended if you’re going to visit a big city) and decided to get off at Buckingham Palace. Unbeknownst to us, the changing of the guards ceremony was taking place that day! Apparently, they don’t do this every day. We somehow landed at the Palace right before it happened, along with about…2,000 other people.
My husband was the only one tall enough to get a video, so he did.
After the crowd dispersed and the requisite photos were taken, we walked away from Buckingham and landed on gift shop row nearby. Of course I had to get my “I love London” T-shirt, and after we did that, our stomachs began to growl. At least, mine did.
More walking ensued, and five minutes later, we ended up at a restaurant with no available waiters. So we left, and few more minutes of wandering later, found ourselves in front of a restaurant with dark green awning.
“So, what do you think?” my husband asked as we perused the menu board out front.
I studied the menu. Classic British fare, nothing that truly stood out. But I knew that we had approximately 20 minutes before my kids’ hunger explodes, so I shrugged and said, “Sure, why not?”
Dining in a fancy restaurant when you’re not so…fancy
The Ivy, not to be confused with the Ivy Restaurants in Southern California, is part of the Ivy Collection, a restaurant founded in 1917 as an Italian cafe which has now evolved into 41 locations across the UK, Wales and Ireland. A favorite of theatergoers, due to its proximity to London’s theaters and nightlife, it’s also a hot spot for celebrities, having hosted big names like Tom Cruise, Nicole Kidman, Jack Nicholson and Brad Pitt. Even Rod Stewart is a fan.
It’s the kind of place where, if you have the right connections or a pocketful of cash, you can have a great time. Underneath the dim, sexy glow of the orb lights, you can dine to your heart’s content and know that the place exudes glamour and sophistication from its inner pores. It’s so popular that it even has its own cookbook, a private club, private dining options, afternoon tea service, and holiday bashes with special menus.
On the day we decided to eat at one of the most glamorous restaurants in London wearing nothing but polos, T-shirts, jeans and Columbia jackets, we were seated by the windows toward the back, intimately close to a man and woman who looked to be on a…date. At least, I think they were.
The woman was a young and beautiful Asian wearing a pale pink, hip hugging dress—the kind that said, “I have more to see underneath,” while the man…well, he was old. He wasn’t unattractive but also not attractive either. Just an average-looking British man who dressed up really, really well. I could tell he was wealthy. The way he cozied up to her and the way he talked. He wanted to be the center of attention. And she wanted him to pay the bill. Perhaps that was why the young woman was out with him?
I noted this observation to my husband later that night in our hotel room, and he bristled. “Nah,” he said. “She’s not an escort. No way.”
But dear reader, I believe she was. This gorgeous woman could have her share of any man she wants, and she chooses to go out with one that’s old enough to be her father?
Okay, maybe I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt then.
The couple on the other side of us, however, seemed to be engaged in some kind of business transaction. Later, I saw that she picked up the tab. Perhaps she was taking one of her clients on a lunch date to discuss a potential business opportunity.
“We should’ve dressed up a little bit more,” I whispered to my husband. He agreed.
A bathroom fit for royals
Toward the back of the restaurant, and up a flight of stairs (once again, adorned by beautiful, intricate floral wallpaper) coupled with just-dim-enough lighting, is a bathroom fit for royals. Seriously. My jaw dropped when I entered what they aptly call the “washroom.”
Inside, there were velvet cushions in burgundy and pink and gilded mirrors everywhere and separate rooms—one for doing your smoking and socializing and one for doing your actual business—and of course, more wallpaper! And did I mention that everything shimmers?
That, my friends, is the true epitome of a great restaurant. Some of you may disagree, but I really do believe that a clean, well-kept restroom is an indicator of how seriously they take food safety and cleanliness in the kitchen.
My daughter agreed. When she came back from the ladies’ room, she said, “Wow, that bathroom is SO NICE!”
But what about the food?
Dining at The Ivy felt like stepping into a role I’d been preparing for my whole life. I felt like an impostor when the waiter brought out our food—a simple shepherd’s pie with a flaky, golden top and plates of fish & chips served with mash peas and tartar sauce. It’s what you’d call “elevated British fare,” served on their monogrammed white plates. And like the role I was made to play, I did something I almost never do at restaurants—I ordered a cocktail.
The St. Germain Spritz was a showstopper of a drink. The restaurant’s version included St. Germain (an elderflower liqueur), Sassy brut, a “citric blend1,” and club soda, adorned with edible flowers (!). Too beautiful to drink, I thought. But I drank…and it was delicious. Light and bubbly, it tickled my tongue with its initial sweetness followed by a citrusy aftertaste.
I loved this drink so much that I recently tried to recreate it at home. But to my dismay, the only kind of liqueur I could find were the big bottles that one could make 30+ drinks with. And so, the drink will forever remain in my mind as a memory, something I consumed at a particular place during a particular time, amongst potentially famous people, and that’s that.
Have you ever had any off-the-wall dining experiences anywhere? I’d love to know more about it!
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I have no idea what this blend means…maybe a combination of lemons and limes or something else? It was good though.
I've been wanting to visit London for years now, so I was very excited to find this in my inbox. To be honest, the final food reveal felt a bit shocking to me. All that bougieness for fish and chips?? Which speaks more of my narrow mindedness than anything else! I used to visit foreign countries much more often in the past, but the last 5 years were strictly local. When they say that travelling opens your mind and horizon... It is true! As is the opposite. Being exposed to different cultures on a regular basis is so important.
With a Scottish mom, I grew up with British fare, though not of the “elevated” variety (except for roast beef for special occasions). However, I would studiously avoid it when in England, except perhaps, for English tea, which I love. Overhyped food often turns out to also be overpriced and disappointing, I’ve discovered. In England, I found some of the best food is made by immigrants. But that’s also true here too! But with hungry kids in tow, who has time to do research?