The Delaunay

So, the Delaunay was my next foray into the world of London’s fine dining. I was booked in for breakfast with the wonderful Alwynne Gwilt aka Miss Whisky aka Gwilty Pleasures. Stepping into the Delaunay swept me back into what it must have felt like to be in the 1930s- elegant and sophisticated with impeccable service and interiors, my kind of place. I deliberately turned up early eager to mull over a crisp copy of that morning’s  paper with a big pot of English Breakfast tea.

Note to self: If you’re given a tea strainer it ain’t just for decoration. One cup of leafy tea later and I was finally starting to settle in amongst the champagne-swilling high-fliers.

Considering the decor, atmosphere and company was so good, I was mildly disappointed to find my Eggs Florentine to be a bit of a damp squib next to Alwynne’s impressive mound of North American pancakes, crispy bacon and ‘proper’ maple syrup. Pointer one: drain the spinach. Pointer two: have the large portion to avoid food envy. Having said that, the egg was cooked to perfection and it definitely beat my usual bowl of Oat So Simple porridge at my desk.

We discussed India, whisky, Scotland, our careers and whiled away an hour or so sipping tea and forgetting about pressing jobs to be done back at the office. However, throughout I had a nagging feeling that I hadn’t had the best of what the Delaunay has to offer food-wise…so I’m leaving this review open, to be added to sometime soon when I next need my 30’s fix…

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