Bob Bob Ricard, Soho


Look away Mum. Bob Bob Ricard happened again. Soz.

What happens when you cross a ruddy great big boat load of Russian cash with a really rather good restaurateur, you get Bob Bob Ricard. The very definition of unashamed decadence. You won’t find subtlety here. Everything is dripping in luxury. Why? Because they can! Last week, thanks to the delights of a tube strike we walked straight in without a reservation. I might as well say this right now, if you’re looking for a bitchy or negative review, stop reading. I love this place and whilst it’s not a cheap night out, it’s always fun and reliable.

Having been told that under no circumstances was I paying I controlled the urge to press the champagne button. Paul, however, had no such control and two glasses of Ayala arrived toute-suite.


I started with Beef tea with Siberian Pelmeni. The broth was dark and clear and rich and wonderful. The Pelmeni are lamb dumplings, they were delicious and surprisingly light. Light and sensible – not something you see me ordering very often. Paul had the  salmon tartare which was also a fairly healthy option.


Having had the dire lemon sole at the Ivy Chelsea Garden the night before I was in need of proof that sole is as delicate and soft as I remember and that I wasn’t being unreasonable in thinking the Ivy chefs had ruined a gorgeous piece of fish. It was that or the fish pie or the onglet and give my trousers are already a smidge too tight as it is, the light and dainty fish dish it was. Oh, did I mention it was stuffed with lobster and served with chive beurre blanc. So, not healthy, but just so yum – sorry – but I can’t think of another word. This is the kind of dish that makes me eat with my eyes closed and adopt that dreamy and slightly gormless expression that means I’m enjoying my food too much to make an effort to sit up straight and make conversation. Fortunately Paul, being an old housemate, has seen me in this state before.


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For dessert Paul ordered the Eton Mess. A spherical ball of meringue that had some luscious strawberry cream poured over it that spiralled down the meringue. It was beautiful. The photo doesn’t do it justice. It was an ideal dessert. Light and fresh but with a touch of rich creaminess to give it the Bob Bob Ricard treatment. I finished off with an espresso in the cutest glass cup ever.

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I have no idea what it cost. I can’t wait to go back. That’s all.

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