So, the chap and I decided to go on a supper date one evening. But this time, it’s a little special because he had no idea where we were going. I took charge. “Get your hair done, put on a nice pair of shoes and grab your jacket, ” I said, “you will love this”.
Uber arrived promptly. We got on the wheels. And weaved our way through the West End traffic. Green Park > Piccadilly > Soho. The car stopped at a narrow lane of the infamously loud and licentious area.
Russian-inspired British food I revealed. And it didn’t take more than a millisecond to see his lips curl upward into a big wide smile.
TimeOut London spoke of Bob Bob Ricard as “the sort of venue you can imagine Bertie Wooster taking his pals after a day at the Drones“, “British and Russian comfort food, plus lots of champagne“.
Hunkered down in a relatively quiet quarter of Soho, the front of Bob Bob Ricard looks surprisingly unassuming. But once the ushers open its doors, the elegant and fine Roaring 20s’ decor is likely to sweep you back into the decade of old glorious New York, a time of splendour and sustained economic prosperity, where people dance and dine and drink in whirls of jazzy smoke like there’s no tomorrow.
Dress code is elegant but no tie is required. It offers lunch and supper. Open as late as 1am from Thursday to Saturday. The best place to dress up, unwind past ten and – the best part? Take your time and avoid the regular dinner crowd altogether.
There’s only a slight change on the menu as season changes. So you are sure to get your favourite late night comfort whenever you visit BBR throughout the year. Each booth comes with an extravagantly convenient “Press for Champagne” buzzer. Give it a nuzzle and flutes of bubbles will be delivered to your table.
But press sparingly, I would caution. For it comes with a price and a very serious addiction.
Ambience’s right. Boy’s delighted. Champagne’s served. Prayers answered.
Starter for us were truffled vareniki, which was traditional Russian dumplings served with shimeji mushrooms and crispy onion, and lobster pelmeni topped with flying fish roe. Both dumplings came dipped in thumpingly rich gravy. So good they were, we ordered a basket of bread and wolfishly wiped the plates clean.
The main for him was a champagne and truffle humble pie, pastry lid was crusty and filling was creamy. A bowl of heavenly baked goodness filled with mushroom, pecorino, pearl barley, leek and of course, champagne and black truffle. Who knew that a dish laden with fungus could be this good?
We have never tasted a vegetarian dish better than this. My main was a venison steak tartare served with raw quail egg and croutons, a dish my mum would never agree. I could already imagine her bleating on about the endless cons of uncooked meat etc etc. but nothing can change my love for this minced and raw rebel.
We engaged in our usual tittle-tattle, drank, ate, people watched, drank and ate some more. We waited for a while before raising our hands up for the dessert menu.
Full as we were, we wouldn’t miss BBR’s signature Chocolate Glory – a golden chocolate globe that melts and breaks open like a blooming flower upon a pour of hot chocolate stream. Hidden exquisitely inside were jivara mousse, brownie, meringue and passion fruit-orange jelly. It was a gilded pleasure to have them all in a spoon. The after-taste was subtle and slightly bitter like a dark chocolate’s.
We couldn’t resist and ordered the Eton Mess En Perle as well, a beautiful pink lime-meringue globe made to guard the even more beautiful mash of strawberry sorbet, raspberry, marshmallows and cream. I like this one so much more than the Chocolate Glory for a tangy dessert always knows its way to the very core of my heart.
Alrighty, my love. Blabber’s over. Now let’s let the photos do what they do best – make us all hungry and jealous. If you are still having doubts whether to keep scrolling downward or not, the exit button is there on the top right corner.
With love x