Shepherd Market.. Mayfair in the rough.

Does anyone else have days when they fancy dressing up to the nine' but have nowhere to go? Of course there are plenty of places to go here in London. Another truism is that native Londoners have a dual personality: they are most at home in their area but have a secondary 'manor', loosely described as the West End. Which is not strictly speaking the West but the central South West i.e. Covent Garden, Soho and Mayfair stopping at Hyde Park corner at one end and Holborn at the other. 

Shepherd Market

Soho is my favourite but Mayfair is a close second and a close cousin. It is really just more loose women, more booze and more misbehaviour but more expensively purchased. It's the best place to pose in your  flashiest frock and hat but can be a little pricey.  To enjoy Mayfair more reasonably however you don't have to descend to the pits of coffee chain and rip off ex Italian cafes with tourist prices. Tucked behind the Japanese embassy is a little mini Mayfair village all of it's own: Shepherd Market (with no 's').

This miniature warren of little streets full of places to eat and drink was originally where sheep were driven to market and like Covent Garden accommodated it's rural visitors with Inns and Brothels. Shepherd Market was until recently still a red light area (all of Mayfair is red lightish now, it has a high number of escorts and up market resident toms politely esconced behind the stucco) and a slightly louche atmosphere still lingers. There are also literary connections, Anthony Powell amongst others has been a resident and the area features in his novels.

Night, customers sitting outside The Old Express.

During week evenings the character of the area is somewhat compromised by the presence of corporate suits (unavoidable throughout the city) but it has some things to offer including several pubs and is a delight on weekends. The Grapes is the most famous but seems to have gone downhill in recent years. The Shepherd Tavern is fine but I personally like the Market Tavern, it has a quirky interior, decent Prosecco for under 20 quid a bottle and the food is a decent reasonably priced alternative in a pricey bit of London. It is nice at the weekends for a roast lunch. Upstairs, the Chesterton Room essays the past of the area by resembling a stylish tart's boudoir with red velvet seating and flocked wallpaper in fleshy reds and pinks. I had my birthday party in 2010 in this room.

Chesterfield upstairs bar at the Market Tavern.

Their are some well known restaurants here. L Artiste'Muscle is busy and atmospheric, a scruffy French Bistro serving steak frites but I don't rate the food or the prices. Le Boudin Blanc is a high end French restaurant, it is ok but also rather expensive.

L'Autre.

I prefer L'Autre (020) 7499 4680, on the site of what was reputedly Greta Garbo's favourite London restaurant and serving Polish and Mexican cuisine. A peculiar combination related to catering for the nearby Mexican Embassy in the past. The Polish food is old fashioned and very decent, I'm not keen on the desserts (never am in Eastern European restaurants) but Borscht and Pierogy are available. Service is friendly and the place, unpretentious and full of hats and wine bottles and tiny tables is fun to eat in. Best of all the arsey smug suit types don't 'get it' so generally you are spared the braying.

The Old Express, a tiny little restaurant is a good place to take visitors as it serves English food, ie pies, fish and chips. The staff are all foreign but it is a pretty little place and the food is decent. Like all of the restaurants in Shepherd Market, if you can grab one of the limited number of outside tables it is good for people watching. 

Al Hamra.

Like all of Mayfair the area is Araby, and this is expressed by the presence of Al Hamra, I haven't eaten there for years but it was good then and still seems full of Lebanese families so I expect it is still good. For those looking for a bargain meditteranean/arab mish mash there is also a branch of the eponymous Sofra nearby.

Toy soldiers!

Finally although I mention Shepherd market as an alternative to pricelicious Mayfair there are shopping opportunities. For the chaps a toy soldier shop and a  Simon Carter cufflink. emporium For the chappettes danger lurks in several jewellery shops. Finally the area also houses my favourite cinema in central London: The Curzon Mayfair.

If you consider that this corner is within easy reach of St Jame's Park, Buck House, The Royal Academy and Piccadilly you can see it is a useful locale to know and one that non-Londoners and tourists  easily miss. It is very easy to find, go up Green Park towards Hyde Park Corner, turn right up a narrow dirty little road just before the Japanese Embassy and you'll find yourself there!   xx

New BLOG: The Retrometropolitan: food, booze, reviews.

Dear all, I have started a new blog for reviews of bars, restaurants and hotels. This is so that the lovely loves who pop in here to read about booze and food do not also have to wade through vintage rolls and shoes, Lord love em! The posts will be expanded versions of the reviews here. Please have a look and pass the word around!

The Retrometropolitan. Food, booze, reviews!

Thank the Lord I am not a copywriter....

Spring evening in Soho....The Coach and Blacks.

Ahhh.. a sunny London evening. Most residents of this metropolis go and sit in parks. Clothing is shed, millions of yacking international language students appear from nowhere and deport themselves across Soho Square. The tendency is exterior and predominantly park life. For those who cannot be bothered or with hay fever the alternative is to loiter outside a pub getting in peoples way. Yours truly opted for the middle way, inside a pub and surrounded by natural substances. Well wood counts, and there is something organic about the Coach and Horses. Or rather the clientele. I like the fact you can usually sit down. We did next to two charming ladies, one of whom was wearing excellent shoes and was an expert on Moth execution. It is, in case you dandy types had forgotten, also the beginning of Moth Apocolypse season. Remember it is them or your cashmere. The bearded one declared himself to be well pleased to be back in Soho....

We were on our way to meet Sue and Steve who were taking us to Blacks, the private members club in Dean Street. I like Blacks far better than its close neighbours, the Groucho and Soho House. Partially because it has let us into the bar when desperate and also because it still has a feel of being Georgian rather than an ambitious boutique hotel in the Home Counties. The membership also has a louche edge, perhaps because the odd ex-Colony room type number amongst its members or perhaps because it has a bed in one of the nooks in the upstairs club room. I had however never eaten there. This was the first time also that I had been there earlier on in the evening. The place looks better in the darkness, not because there is any thing wrong with the decor but because at night it has a bibaesqe romance, all dark corners and twinkly lights.


The first thing that struck me on this occasion was how crowded and noisy it was. I put this down to the sudden arrival of sunshine but our host felt that perhaps the membership had grown. It took an hour and a half to get to our table. The company was excellent, and having all been busy we were a bit weary and very hungry by the time we made it. The food was good value for the 25.00 set menu but there could have been more and I felt that the restaurant showed the signs of having been caught unawares and run ragged. I love the dining room decor, lovely dun blue painted wood panelling, sea shell sconces and a large steampunkish geographical instrument doo dad hanging from the ceiling. All very Peter Greenaway meets Congreve, an effect enhanced by the presence of Hogarth prints adorning the walls. Lovely room, shame about the fact that a table behind us was a group of very young, very loud girls. It was like being in the student union bar. Still all this aside I think it is one of the most attractive and charming of the modern private clubs, that it has a distinct charm and I could not fault the company.

Le Cassoulet, good French food.

Exterior of Le Cassoulet.

It must be admitted that Croydon, as a place, does not get a good press. Perhaps it is because of the feral school children and confused asylum seekers wandering around the Whitgift Centre. However how many of you realise it has a palace? Croydon is more of a demographic cape, it is where currents meet. Suburban money, Home Counties wealth, and middle England respectability clash with Croydon face lifts, jerk chicken and people with faces like shovels. A bit of that shovel faced character can be seen in its most famous child Kate Moss. But what of those other famous children of Croydon: John Ruskin, David Lean and Jacquelin Du Pre? I mention all this not because I am a Croydonite, but because the area may have hidden pleasures. To illustrate this fact I raise the subject of the restaurant Le Cassoulet located in South Croydon.

Interior of restaurant(lunchtime).

Le Cassoulet, named after the titular bean and gubbins stew is a small restaurant serving classic French dishes. Unpretentious dishes such as Moules Mariniere, Pate, Confit of Duck properly cooked and attractively presented without any of those mastercheffy flourishes (foams that look like spittle, scallops on scrapings and so forth). Every thing you order is what you expect, but much better. For the prices this is an extraordinarily good restaurant. Even at much higher prices it would be still be an excellent restaurant.

Interior of restaurant (night time).

One of the things I appreciated is its rejection of that particularly British affectation: the distressed, dainty battered french farmhouse style leavened generously with Seaside naffery. For a classic example see Sophie Dahl's kitchen in her current television series, more Notting Hill than Normandy. Like all good French restaurants Le Cassoulet is grown up. It's Frenchness resides in its banquettes, delicate flowery wall paper and wall mounted lamps. It is the kind of interior the Dean Street Townhouse is stylishly pastiching. The staff are largely French, and have that combination of professionalism and humour very faintly veined with a hint of superciliousness that is the mark of good gallic restaurant bods. The Hare ragout was off, as they were not 'eating the Easter bunny' which of course was originally the far tastier hare. They handled the neighbouring table, a group of people who could have walked straight out of Abigail's Party with friendly forbearance. The wine recommended by them was excellent, the cassoulet punctured with generous servings of duck was pronounced delicious and even the cheese course was well judged. Steaks were perfectly cooked, a citron tart was lovely. I was taken back by the price of the lunch menu; £16.50 for three courses. I asked to look at the evening menu, richer more sophisticated dishes, but still about £28.00 for three courses. This food was better than many expensive central London restaurants. I know many reading this will mutter about Sherpas and vaccinations but for those of you not living in Siberia (Norf and East London) Le Cassoulet does what a good restaurant should do: provide a well cooked meal and a gentle relaxing environment to eat it in. Now if they would only open a branch in Soho....

See the homepage for further information about the restaurant: www.lecassoulet.co.uk