Wednesday, January 13, 2010

BOB BOB RICARD OFF THE CUFF, even if the bill is a bit rough


We went to Bob Bob Ricard the other night. It was impromptu, after a few beers with some of the Crystal Palace football team (I've never met a footballer or been to a match, but am now rather tempted by both. They were lovely.) So there we were, hungry, on a cold night in Soho. Bob Bob Ricard was our first port of call. I've been meaning to go here for ages as there was an amazing review about a year ago, selling the all day serving of breakfast, lunch and dinner (a massive selling point if you like eggs benedict at any hour of the day like me.)

We had the most lovely service, hilarious back ground conversations to over hear - a mistress stamping her foot at her lover, and him sucking her neck and cornering her in the boothe - and a delicious dinner. It's bloody expensive but really you can not fault Bob Bob Ricard on any level. The shepherd's Pie was as if dreamt by the gods. If you imagine how you want your perfect pie to be, this is it: a sweet rich gravy, chunks of meat, tender peas, and a perfect moussy potato topping. Raf had a burger so attentively cooked, that it made my teeth ache with longing. But on top of this, it's the detail that really makes this place. Each booth has the BBR emblem, the milk jug, tea strainer and place mats were all the perfect design and demeanor for the joint.


This is a place to go and get your monies worth. You'll feel special and tended and though not blown away by the actual menu, what was on offer was utterly faultless. Go for a treat, but make sure, like my neighbouring girl, you have yeilding sugar daddy.

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