The Palm, Belgravia

After a series of luxurious winter breaks ranging from North Yorkshire to St Tropez and the Virgin Islands, Mr Oil and Vinegar are back in London, where they start the New Year’s London reviews off with a trip to The Palm in Belgravia...

MrO: Right, let’s run through this item by item. Starters.
MrV: Absurdly large. If I hadn’t had the foresight to check the size in advance and order one between the two of us, we’d still be fighting out way through.
MrO: It certainly was good value, though I wasn’t overly impressed by the calamari fritters. They weren’t exactly tender. Very few chefs can get them that way.
MrV: I know, but the thing I disliked about that dish was the strips of pepper drenched in vinegar. Made me want to order some Rennies on the side.
MrO: What about the main course. The fries were alright, I thought.
MrV: I reckon they weren’t fresh. Usually when you get clumps of chips stuck together like that it means they’ve been fried from frozen.
MrO: My French beans weren’t quite right. I like beans al dente but these were just plain raw. A when I asked for them to be tossed in a little garlic and olive oil, I thought they’d chop or crush the garlic rather than just chucking in two whole cloves.
MrV: My spinach was inedible. It tasted like very mature leaves very lightly steamed, which made it extremely tough.
MrO: Anyway, they took those items off the bill. But the steaks...
MrV: ...Ah, the steaks. They were very good, although I don’t think the waitress quite knows what a Pittsburgh steak is. It’s black on the outside and blue on the inside. There’s no such thing as a medium rare Pittsburgh, whatever the charming little thing may say.
MrO: That is true, which is why they are also known as black ‘n’ blue steak. Aren’t they called Pittsburgh because the steel workers like to bring in raw steak for their lunch and hold it against the sides of the furnace for a few seconds to cook it?
MrV: That’s what some say, but I believe it’s because Pittsburgh is filthy black with soot and all the people there are decidedly blue collar.
MrO: That aside, the steaks were as good as I’ve had anywhere in London. The Palm is also one of New York’s best steakhouses, isn’t it?
MrV: It claims to be. I’m not convinced, but I can’t fault them on the quality of my sirloin. It was perfectly cooked, too.
MrO: The waitress went to great lengths to ensure she understood what we wanted and we understood what was on offer. Full marks for that. And my rib-eye was also excellent.
MrV: Yes, but she insisted on it being medium rare so the marbling would melt, but still called it a Pittsburgh.
MrO: That bottle of Vino Nobile was very good. Expensive?
MrV: £45 – I’m not grumbling.
MrO: Overall, then, a success?
MrV: Yes, overall, but with some irritating flaws. Still, it’s a lot better than it was when Marco Pierre White had a restaurant here.
MrO: I rather liked Drones, at least in its first couple of years.
MrV: First year, perhaps. Then he lost interest. I always thought it was odd him owning a restaurant named after the club in the PG Wodehouse books. He’s never read one of them – doesn’t read books. Says he’s dyslexic. Hadn’t even heard of Wodehouse when he bought the place off David Niven’s son. Anyway, it went the way of nearly all his ventures – he lost interest, the quality went down and it was closed. That’s probably why he works for Knorr these days.

Mr Oil and Mr Vinegar enjoyed one portion of calamari fritti between them, a 10oz New York sirloin (£35) and a 14oz rib eye (£46), fries, vegetables, two vodka-and-tonics, two glasses of white wine, a bottle of red, two Grand Marnier and two glasses of Muscat, at a total cost of about £250.

The Palm
1 Pont Street
London
SW1X 1EJ
Tel: +44 (0) 207 201 0710

www.thepalm.com

customercare@thepalm.com

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