BOB BOB RICARD

On Monday morning, I couldn’t quite put my finger on what was making me smile. Most would say it was the fact that my family was in town. Some would suggest it was the fact that I was able to move out of my dorm for the week and stay in a five-star hotel. Others would comment that it was the fact that I merely had too many Mimosas at brunch. I, however, knew that something entirely different was making me feel such bliss on this certain day. It was an indescribable joy that I had carried with me from an experience the night before, which had me reminiscing about its highlights the next morning.

The night prior, my family surprised me with reservations to an exclusive London restaurant that I had been eager to try, yet was struck with disappointment when I saw its three-month-long wait list. When I heard the news, I was like a child on Christmas Eve, eagerly anticipating what was to come. Hopping out of a cab in Soho, I followed my family towards a discreet corner building, dimly lit yet proudly showcasing its name, Bob Bob Ricard. Stepping through the restaurant’s grandiose doors quickly offered an escape from the streets of London, and an entrance into an oasis that existed within its walls.

Imagine a place where dreams meet reality, where the roaring 20’s come alive at each turn, and where five-star dining knows no limit with its glamour. I let my mind wander through the ornately decorated walls as my eyes traced the gold details that stretched throughout the room. I followed the baroquely patterned tile beneath my feet towards the table of my dreams, a booth for five in the corner, drowning in bright pink décor. Despite the dimly lit atmosphere, I was immediately drawn to two gold buttons at the end of the table that noticeably read “Press for Champagne.” These buttons were the focus of my fascination, as I repeatedly pressed them, always surprised by how quickly a bottle of 2009 Moët Vintage was at our table’s command.

However, it was not merely the experience of glamour and fantasy that corresponded with pressing this button that made such a restaurant so thrilling. The three courses that were displayed in front of me were exquisite in both presentation and taste, proving to me that a restaurant can indeed “have it all.” 20 grams of White Sturgeon caviar, picture perfectly displayed on the restaurant’s golden accented china, made the perfect appetizer, yet I couldn’t help myself from stealing some of my uncle’s savory lobster dumplings as well. Nevertheless, the most awe-inspiring part of the meal came along with the entrée, the most exquisitely crafted Beef Wellington I have ever seen in my life (so good, in fact, that we ordered three for the table). Delicately painted pastry covered the perfectly pinked interior of the beef, which encompassed a magical mixture of savory and sweet flavor. Such a dish changed my impression of the possibilities that can exist with comfort food and the glamour that can come with such a classic dish.

Regardless of feeling like I was about to burst at the seams, I knew I needed to save room for the most important part of the meal: dessert. A team of waiters marched out with a golden dusted sphere creation so beautiful, yet so unapproachable that I wondered how one could possibly eat it. I was surprised when the golden structure cracked open like an egg as fudge sauce was delicately poured on top, melting to reveal a fluffy chocolate mousse inside. A flawless Crème Brule also emerged drowning in brightly torched flames, which died out quickly, causing me to selfishly ask if they could light it again for a quick photo. It didn’t take long for both desserts to disappear, and I found myself wishing for this meal to never end.

It’s become evident to me while I’ve been in London that so many restaurants are highlighting customer experience in their development. The ability of a restaurant to transport you to another world, with both the curation of atmosphere and menu, is part of what a modern consumer is paying for while dining out today, and something that Bob Bob Ricard perfects in its execution. There’s something that sounds absurd about such an ostentatious place. A place that allows one to embrace childhood dreams and live in Gatsby-esque excess for a night. As I turned and grabbed for the gold plated door handles on my way out, I couldn’t help but gaze back to take in one more look at such a magical place, and plan the next time I would return for another unforgettable experience.

(Apologies for the lack of photos–I was overwhelmed!)