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Samstag, 07 Dezember 2024 02:45
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Samstag, 07 Dezember 2024 02:42
An invitation to lunch at Caviar Kaspia was, once upon a time, an offer you simply didn't refuse.
Providing, of course, that the bill was on someone else.
Because caviar, smeared on blinis or piled high on baked
potatoes, sure didn't come cheap. There may have been other things on the menu, but no one paid them much heed.
This was all about lashings of the black stuff.
Caviar Kaspia's signature baked potato and caviar:
‘there are few better dishes on earth…only the price,
at just under £150, is ridiculous'
Caviar Kaspia popped her final tin about two decades back. And that site, hidden down a smart Mayfair mews, was taken over by Gavin Rankin (who used to be the boss),
and transformed into the brilliant Bellamy's. It prospers to
this day. Kaspia, on the other hand, went quiet.
Until last year, when she reopened as a members' club in another Mayfair backstreet.
But a £2,000 a year membership fee proved hard to swallow, meaning the doors
were opened to the great unwashed.
Which is how we find ourselves sitting in a rather handsome - albeit
near empty - dining room, lusciously lavish, under the stern gaze of a stern painting of a very stern man. The
soft, crepuscular gloom is broken up by the glare of table lamps, indecorously bright, while
a loud soundtrack of indolent, indeterminate beats throbs in the background.
The whole place is scented with gilded ennui.
Our fellow diners are two young South Korean women of pale, luminescent beauty,
clad in diaphanous couture. They don't speak, rather communicate
entirely via camera phone. Pose, click, check, filter, post.
Immaculate waiters hover in the shadows.
We sip ice-cold vodka, and eat a £77 caviar and smoked-salmon Kaspia
croque monsieur that tastes far better than it ought to.
Next door, a large table fills with a glut of the noisily,
glossily confident.
We're looked after by a wonderful French lady of such effervescent
charm and charisma that had she burst into an impromptu performance of ‘Willkommen', we would have barely blinked.
Baked potatoes, skin as crisp as parchment, insides whipped savagely hard with butter and
sour cream, are a study in tuber art. A cool jet-black
splodge of oscietra caviar, gently saline, raises them to
the sublime. Only the price, at just under £150 each,
is ridiculous. But there are few better dishes on earth.
I'd eat this every day if I could. But I can't. Obviously. That's the
problem with caviar. One taste is never enough.
About £200 per head. Caviar Kaspia, 1a Chesterfield Street, London W1; caviarkaspialondon.com
★★★★✩
My favourite luxury dishes
Tom's pick of the best places to splash the culinary cash in LondonTom's pick of the best
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skin first, then two servings of the meat. Superb.
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