A good 75% of my friends are bloggers (not bloogers as my confused fingers seem to think) and online based lifeforms who have transcended the matrix. The other 25% are fellow expats. It makes sense, right? Friends are with you for a reason, a season or a lifetime and when your conversations are littered with algorithm references (jokes, we aren’t that smart) or cultural frustrations it makes sense to hang out with kindred spirits.
Why am I blathering about my friend type ratio and not the lovely brunch we enjoyed at Berners Tavern? Honestly, it’s probably because this beautiful corner of Fitzrovia is so pretty that it is often fully booked out – and I don’t want you to take my table. You would be more than welcome to join us next time though.
Everytime we have visited Berners Tavern, it has been with people who didn’t know about my guilty secret (ie. a travel blogging addiction) or the light was terrible or we had ensconced ourselves around the bar and tried too many of their incredible cocktails to be able to take in-focus photographs.
This time, on recent Sunday afternoon, my friend and I (who ironically falls under both of those friendship categories in a Venn diagram intersection) met under grey skies for a cozy catch up. Having spotted a booking that we could nab the very same week and allow for a snoozy morning, we began with flat whites as all good weekends do.
The beautiful Berners Tavern is a rather gilded affair – the restaurant walls are laden with a multitude of golden frames containing a variety of paintings (sidenote: great as an ice breaker on dates or work lunches), the staff are gorgeous – special mention has to go to the brilliant sommelier who was disappointed in our decision to caffeinate – and the hotel foyer is grand to say the least. It’s no surprise really that Michelin starred Jason Atherton is the kitchen patron, and the menu is modern British, dappled with a nod to the continent.
Perusing the menu, and wanting everything on it, we asked our lovely waiter (who earlier was rather bemused by customers who ordered baked eggs, and then grouched that they were, er, baked – and very gracious to them. He winked at my amusement over their heads) for recommendations.
He cheekily said ‘oh, everything on the menu is amazing’, but when laughingly pressed, took us through his favourites on the menu. For once I forsook my beloved eggs benedict and eventually I decided on the vanilla waffle; served with fresh raspberries, whipped cream and grated chocolate. It was everything that a waffle should be; light, crisp on the outside and naughtily moreish.
Across the table from me, my date went for the Moroccan fried eggs; and it was so delicious she absolutely insisted that I try a mouthful. Presented in a piping hot skillet, they came with a tomato fondue, yoghurt and slivers of toasted sourdough. It was good. So good.
The thing I love about Berners Tavern is although it is glamorous, it isn’t stuffy – you can go for a good humoured catch up and not feel the need to whisper across the tabletop. Especially
when if you get stuck into that cocktail menu…
Do you always stick to the same brunch option? *cough* avo toast *cough*