Wild about Wild Honey

Last night I died and went to…the USA. Don’t get me wrong, I love the UK for a number of different reasons, some of which include how wonderful the people can be. However, living in London, one thing I miss the most is the good, old-fashioned customer service I get at home.

Of course I’ve had State-side restaurant service debacles that have left me frustrated, angry, and hungry. The norm however, is of the “customer is always right” variety. Last night, after a happy ho-ho-ho-lidays Christmas concert at Grosvener Chapel where our friend AW was singing, and a glass of wine at a nearby Mayfair pub called the Audley, KC and I meandered to a new restaurant I’d recently read about called Wild Honey. We arrived a few minutes before our scheduled booking, and as the table wasn’t ready, we popped up to a couple seats at the bar.

Immediately the bartender was over to us, smiling at us like old friends who’d just called in for a quick visit. How could he help he wanted to know? After a bit of idle chitchat, and letting him know we were waiting to eat in the dining area, he was off – he’d just spotted some other friends who’d come in to visit. Over strolled a waiter who wanted to chat with us about the food while we waited. Not only did he answer our questions about the menu but gave us some in-depth details on how some dishes were prepared. I didn’t have the heart to stop him when he was explaining what Mushroom Duxelle was. He was so jolly in his teaching mode, so what if I already knew what they were, KC most likely didn't. The best bit about talking through the menu? He insisted we do it with a cocktail – on the house. Now as anyone who’s lived in London before knows, this NEVER happens – Ever, Ever, Ever! We were a bit shell-shocked by the offer but I recovered quickly enough to say, “yes, that would be lovely thank you.”

The cocktail? A mixture of Prosecco and Braeburn apple juice. So amazing, I’ve decided to smuggle some quality Braeburn juice from Borough Market in my suitcase next week when I head home.

The food was excellent, simple and straightforward, and the décor followed suit with high ceilings and lots of wood panelling and leather banquets. It felt somewhat reminiscent of what an Ivy boys club might look like – subtle, sleek and sophisticated.

Both KC and I had a salad of warm roasted winter vegetables. There were onions, squash, celeriac, pumpkin, and red and yellow beets all sprinkled with a light milk based sauce prepared with garlic and herbs. The starter was satisfying, delicious, and in its own way healthy (the sauce was lightly drizzled and very light).

As a main I had the Icelandic Cod with braised radicchio and roast onion squash. The cod was prepared roulade style and was served looking like a mini tower of pisa. The braised radiccho and roast onion squash were somewhat reminiscent of my starter, which actually suited me just fine.

Throughout the meal the service remained outstanding. There was only one questionable moment. KC and I had decided to skip dessert and sat chatting and finishing our wine. A waiter came over to us, looked us both squarely in the eyes, smiled and said – “what can I do for you ladies, is there anything you need?” After a brief awkward silence KC coyly smiling back and said “no, we’re fine thank you, just finishing our wine. ” As he strolled off I looked at KC a bit confused and told her she shouldn’t have said no so quickly, I’d been about to ask him to juggle and half expected he would have done so.

With most of their wines sold by the 250 ml carafes, prices that are very reasonable, a menu that changes daily with the seasonal produce available, a cosy interior, and service that tops all charts for the UK, it’s no wonder I’m wild about Wild Honey.