Foodie friends had been raving to me about going along to Brasserie Chavot for some time … the clinching argument being that it had great access. Hah, maybe, but I bear a long grudge …
In November 2006 – told you it was a long grudge – D and me went along to The Capital Hotel to eat at their Michelin starred restaurant. The chef was Eric Chavot. It was not a good experience. No access despite their assurances otherwise. Rude, arrogant, unhelpful staff. A lot of rain pouring on us. A meal at Harvey Nicks. No, really, not what we had hoped for – my comments at the time here: Cool As.
Ok, eight years on, it was maybe time to grow up, get over the grudge and accept that it wasn’t personal … and we did need an accessible restaurant to meet up with some friends and a brasserie was just what we were looking for. So, we went.
And our foodie friends were right. Access was brilliant. Big pavement to unload me via the car ramp, gentle slope in, no steps, decent space. D was able to park the car in a road nearby – we went at our new favourite time of 6pm, Saturday evening, post shoppers, pre theatre goers. Marvellous.
Another big plus of the 6pm time is an almost empty restaurant which, when you want to talk, is bliss. I just cannot be a*sed with shouting over background noise. They did threaten us with the 2 hour turnaround – annoys the hell out of me when I’m not in a fast food joint – but, in the event, it wasn’t an issue and we were there until about 9-9.30 with no problem.
The food? Really good, typically French, brasserie food. Our foodie friends, who recommended it, love this style of cooking. Big butch portions of meat, veg, desserts. We all liked it. You know what you’re getting but it doesn’t blow you away. Service was friendly without being over the top.
I had chicken liver pate, veal cassoulet and creme brûlée. All good and everyone else liked theirs too. 3 courses, with drinks and coffees, it was about £85 per head which, for Central London, isn’t bad at all.
We’d all go back and recommend it for what it is: Brasserie Chavot. I’ve let the grudge go.