It is always a risk to refurbish a restaurant. Some customers will retire their patronage as they mourn the loss of the old, while others will be lured in by the enticement of the new.
So it was when the 189-year-old grande dame of central London’s restaurant scene Simpson’s in the Strand got a facelift last year.
“I can’t love Simpson’s any more, however much I try, however much I want to,” declared Jay Rayner in The Guardian. By contrast, in the London Evening Standard, David Ellis said: “It’s still the same old Simpson’s, but living up to its legacy of Wodehouse, Dickens, Disraeli and all the others… Finally, the old Simpson’s is back: the King is dead, long live the King.”
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Simpson’s’ bright new interior by designer Robert Angell
If you ever went to the old Simpson’s, the first thing you will notice when you arrive at the new is that the renovation work is subtle. The team behind the redesign were smart enough to realise that old world glamour was never the problem but rather that like the Sistine Chapel, even the greatest achievements in interior decoration need a lick of paint every now and again.
The revamped restaurant feels like a fresher version of what came before. Upstairs, Knight’s Bar retains its private club atmosphere, but it is more Soho House than Garrick – an inclusive non-gendered space, rather than a blazers-and-ties gentlemen-only establishment.
This is not to say it can’t still do the old things well. My Negroni is an ageing Italian charmer, served over a large block of ice, while my dinner companion’s Simpson’s Old Tom is a botanical delight that draws on a recipe dating back to the mid-18th century.
Determined not to stand still, Knight’s Bar has a new summer food menu inspired by produce from the allotments of Britain. Bartender Harry Brereton's drinks list complements these culinary offerings, and like the kitchen menu, will change with the seasons.
Downstairs, the main dining hall is where the cleverness of the refurb is most evident. Out have gone the frumpy dining sets, which have been replaced with bright red leather chairs, including cosy booths lining one side of the room.
The revamped layout alone is a huge improvement, creating a welcome new sense of spaciousness. Diners have been given more elbow room and the ceiling has been repainted (albeit in a distressed tea-stained colour, to maintain something of the olde worlde feel of the place).
The new art on the walls also nods to the restaurant’s 19th century history as a chess venue, with illustrations of octopuses, windmills and forks. The significance of these may be lost on some diners, but players of the so-called game of kings will recognise them as chess moves. A classy touch.
The food
Simpsons in the Strand www.jamesbedford.com
(Image credit: Simpsons in the Strand www.jamesbedford.com)
The venerable old restaurant’s menu has been overhauled
As Jay Rayner points out, the menu – or as Simpson’s still has it, the “Bill of Fare” – has changed, with a newfound lightness of touch.
Gone is the heavy stodge, which under the guidance of new chefs has become lighter, perhaps (whisper it) even a bit Continental.
Rather than throwing the old menu out altogether the team have found clever ways to update traditional dishes.
A lightness of touch is evident in the pigeon starter, which features cubes of slow-roasted pumpkin and a curiously luminous green parsley sponge. What could have been a heavy plate is light as a pigeon’s feather. Equally good is the chicken liver parfait, with pear and apple chutney.
Tradition makes a return with what comes next: the arrival of Simpson’s’ famed carving trolley. Could any meat lover say no to a roast delivered to their table on a silver trolley? The concept wasn’t broke and Simpson’s didn’t try to fix it.
That said, what is actually on the trolley has been updated – a rose-coloured slab of melt-in-your-mouth Welsh lamb, which I went for, or if you prefer, a 28-day dry-aged roast rib of Scottish beef.
The lamb comes with potato gratin, English beans and mint gravy, while the beef is joined by fluffy Yorkshires, beef-fat roasted potatoes, gravy and horseradish sauce. Both very good – and the flourish of tableside service will surely be as welcome in a hundred years’ time as it has been over the past hundred-plus.
To finish, my friend had the Simpson’s trifle: a huge goblet of berry compote, brioche and gooey clotted cream. Tempting, but I opted for the chocolate knickerbocker, with dark chocolate ice cream and a white chocolate sorbet (because when has one type of chocolate ever been enough?), served on a soft hazelnut brownie and drizzled with toffee sauce.
So does Simpson’s deliver the way it once did? Well, yes and no. Some things have been maintained and some things are very different. But as one of this restaurant’s most famous patrons, Winston Churchill, once said: “To improve is to change; to be perfect is to change often.”
Long may Simpson’s in the Strand continue to change; long may it remain the same.
Arion McNicoll is a freelance writer at The Week Digital and was previously the UK website’s editor. He has also held senior editorial roles at CNN, The Times and The Sunday Times. Along with his writing work, he co-hosts “Today in History with The Retrospectors”, Rethink Audio’s flagship daily podcast, and is a regular panellist (and occasional stand-in host) on “The Week Unwrapped”. He is also a judge for The Publisher Podcast Awards.
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