industrial baguette that tastes
as though toasted a decade
ago. It’s eventually taken off the
bill, but only when I become
unattractively querulous. Their
initial response: “The kitchen
changed it.” No shit.
In these #bekind times —
especially when it comes to the
beleaguered restaurant business
— I’m not cock-a-hoop at giving
anywhere a shoeing. There’s
positive stuff: an interior that’s
been given a striking refurb, best
described as “ageing rock chick
meets Monarch of the Glen”:
gold ceilings, froufrou lamp-
shades and an abbatoir’s worth
of mounted stags and animal
skulls. It’s fun; I like it. Staff are
lovely, finding us a less chaotic
place to sit and underselling
from the wine list when our
requested Bourgogne aligoté is
unavailable to a cheaper bottle,
a respectable chardonnay.
Anyway, I don’t blame staff
or kitchen — not even for the
just as they do in the Highlands.
Or is it Brigadoon?
Attention to detail is absent:
nobody serving seems to
understand the menu; loos have
no soap; there are regular gusts
of a drainy whiff engulfing the
space, not seen off by specially
created Craigellachie-scented
candles. The promised upstairs
whisky bar isn’t open and,
despite a chap behind the bar
in sleeve garters who could have
come from Made in Chelsea
central casting, no cocktail list.
(He does knock up an excellent
Rob Roy, however.) The place
has the feel of somewhere
desperately in need of a soft
launch before it starts charging
full prices. Instead, they’ve
merrily flung open the doors
while it’s still at half-cock. Me,
I’m off to get my money’s worth
by plugging some mouseholes
with that artichoke dip n
Twitter: @marinaoloughlin
Insta: @marinagpoloughlinPLATE OF
THE NATION
Dough•Chi
Blueberry
Frozen YogurtEvidently keen to cut itself a
slice of the Japanese chewy
rice-dough sensation mochi’s
global domination, here’s
Dough•Chi from the cookie
company Doughlicious (run
by the “mum and now
entrepreneur” — at least it
avoids “mumpreneur” —
Kathryn Bricken).
It apes its Japanese
influencer pretty thoroughly:
cookie dough instead of rice
dough, cheesecake biscuit
crumb instead of rice flour,
the filling a nicely tangy
blueberry yoghurt that —
rare for blueberry-flavoured
items — actually tastes of
the fruit. The dough itself
is dense and fudgy, with a
pleasing hit of salt.
It’s an intriguing innovation,
a neat, sweet treat. But I’m
missing the mesmerising
elastic chew of actual mochi.
Frozen, the dough almost
gets there, but there’s no
real “Q”, the Taiwanese term
for that gnocchi-tteokbokki-
jelly-snakes bounciness. It’s
more dough, less chi. Still,
absolutely would. MO’LDough•Chi Blueberry Frozen
Yogurt, £5.49 plus delivery;
doughlicious.co.ukHOW MUCH?
Starters £6-£14
Mains £16-£48Total for two, including
drinks and 12.5%
service charge £120artichoke horror. I blame owners
and management, whose attitude
seems to be that we should be
grateful for them scattering their
stardust over this storied boozer
(previous owners: Guy Ritchie
and David Beckham). They’re
not wrong. None of the punters
piling in here, all small dogs
and flowing locks, expensively
hydrated skin and embroidered
overcoats (and that’s just the
chaps), will give two hoots (mon)
for anything I say. They are all
loving it, happily stabbing away
at gloopy shepherd’s pie and
truffled lobster macaroni cheese
served in enamelware ashets,The Sunday Times Magazine • 45