A fancy-pants resto-jewel buried within London’s (arguably) fanciest hotel, Connaught Grill is a must visit for anyone who hangs around Mayfair and doesn’t mind dropping a few hundy quid on a good meal. If that describes you: hello Mr or Ms nought-point-one percent! Please step this way.
Straddled across the corner of Adam’s Row and Carlos Place, like a classical dandy, sprawled across a velvet chaise longue, the Connaught is class incarnate. The hotel’s surprisingly intimate marble and dark-wood interior contains all sorts of historic, deliriously glamorous spots like the cocktail bar (frequently voted as one of the best in the world), the restaurant (three Michelin stars, don’t worry about it), and even a Lynchian speakeasy called the Red Room. The Grill, which was recently refurbished, has a load of mid-century credentials of its own. Ian Flemming ate steaks there. In the 1970s The New York Times said it served ‘the finest meal in the British Isles’. Serious business, then.
Like a classical dandy, sprawled across a velvet chaise longue, the Connaught is class incarnate
Decor-wise, the Grill’s got its own thing going on. Witness the zen-adjacent decor, which is (pleasantly) at odds with the hotel’s grandeur, its Japanese-flavoured ambience, supplied by lots of rosewood and screens between tables. It doesn’t scream ‘fun’. But this is the Connaught. There is no screaming of any kind.
The food, like the room, is immaculate. It also looks expensive. Take the bread; brioche paddles, branded with scorched tiger stripes, served with a walnut whip of fermented butter. Eye-catching. The tartar with potatoes is a glistening meat jewel, topped with a crispy crown of shredded carbs. Elegant. Scallops surfing in emerald-green seaweed, fragrant with herb-y butter. Aquatic. Presentation is taken seriously here.
And then… the meat. The restaurant goes to great lengths to show variety in its menu, but ultimately it is called The Grill. Chops and steaks loom large, like the prospect of seeing a knockout at the boxing. We can all pretend it isn’t the case. But, really, it’s what you came for.
In the interest of thoroughness we tried a lot of the meat on our visit. Did it feel good the next day? No. Was every mouthful inarguably ‘very good’. Yes. The wagyu, as you’d expect, was slinky and silky. Half a spit-roasted blackleg chicken, glossy and crispy after its visit to the fires of the Connaught’s kitchens, made other roast chickens seem as simplistic and pale as Dutch children.
There was more (much more). A Barnsley lamb chop, some veal, grilled baby artichokes somehow presented as a lattice of lollipop-like chicken legs. The whole dover sole was maybe one step too far. For those looking for a rollicking meaty fun-fest, the Grill might seem a bit stiff and serious. For fans of clever cookery, and flawless wood-burning brilliance, there’s tons to enjoy.
The vibe Quiet class and marvellous meat.
The food Comforting classics with British produce, alongside an all-star flesh and fish lineup.
The drink It’s the Connaught. The quality of the wine is limited only by the size of your bank account.
Time Out tip Yes, it’s expensive. But, unbelievably, the Grill offers a three-course set lunch for £45.