Bob Bob Ricard, Soho

Mr Oil and Mr Vinegar have been to the childishly-named Bob Bob Ricard in Soho, but found it to be a pleasingly grown-up experience...

MrV: I didn’t like those potted shrimps at all. They weren’t how potted shrimps are supposed to be. They were gungy.
MrO: You only have one serious criticism of the whole experience and you choose to lead off on it. That’s not nice. Quite churlish, I’d say.
MrV: Well, I’m particular about my potted shrimps.
MrO: But the rest of it was very good, wasn’t it?
MrV: I like the decor. Most restaurants won’t use booths because it limits the size of groups but they are by far the most pleasant and private way to dine. These ones were rather comfortable, too.
MrO: My starter of venison tartare was very interesting – a little drier than beef steak tartare but none the worse for that. And the main course – the onglet steak – was very good indeed. You don’t see this too often on menus...
MrV: That’s because it is so tough.
MrO: ...because it is a little chewier and more difficult to cook properly than the more popular cuts, but the flavour is superb. It used to be known as the “butcher’s cut” because the butcher would often keep it for himself. Bob Bob Ricard’s chef cooked mine perfectly – just rare enough to stop it getting rubbery.
MrV: I was feeling a little grouchy so I decided to test them with their cheeseburger, and I must confess it was fine. I particularly enjoyed being able to choose between posh cheddar or a Kraft cheese slice, which latter is of course the right thing to put on a burger.
MrO: It is quite an eccentric place, isn’t it?
MrV: Certainly is. What sort of a name is Bob Bob Ricard, anyway? Sounds like a French Teletubby, or perhaps like someone who’s drowned in that foul French aniseed drink.
MrO: It is a silly name – apparently named after the owners – but we are in Soho, after all. Silliness prevails, even to the extent that there is a “press here for champagne” button in each booth.
MrV: I wonder if they are being silly about their wine pricing policy. Putting a cap of £50 on mark-ups may be a dangerous game.
MrO: I love it. It is time someone challenged the system of marking wine up by 300 – 350%. If it’s a bottle that would cost £6 in the supermarket you don’t mind paying £20 because they have the investment, storage and handling costs to cover before they find a profit, but doing the same thing to a £30 bottle of wine seems very greedy.
MrV: I am going to agree with you about that. They were selling the Langoa Barton 1997 at £69 when it retails at about £32. I call that fair. What I love best is about the wine list is that is shows comparisons with prices at Gordon Ramsay, Alain Ducasse and others. It must drive those swanky places quite potty with rage. They were selling a bottle of Chateau D’Yquem 1996 for £109 but pointed out that it costs £330 at Petrus. I should have had some with that delicious salted caramel ice cream.
MrO: This wine pricing thing might just catch on. Restaurateurs are seldom business innovators but history shows that, in general, undercutting has to be matched, as the customers aren’t slow to pick up when they’re paying too much.
MrV: Remember the last chap who did that? Whatsisname who owned Monkey’s on Chelsea Green? Good man. Had a mark-up limit of £20 per bottle, including magnums. Monkeys didn’t last, though.
MrO: Let’s hope Bob Bob Ricard doesn’t go the same way.

Mr Oil and Mr Vinegar consumed two starters, two main courses and one pudding between them, washed down with two vodkas with tonic, two bottles of fine claret and some water and coffee, at a total cost of about £250.

Bob Bob Ricard
1 Upper James Street
London W1F 9DF
+44 (0) 203 145 1000
reservations@bobbobricard.com
www.bobbobricard.com