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Marina O’Loughlin writes… We all know Rules, don’t we? Languishing there in its handsome Maiden Lane premises since God fell off the bus, serving doughy, doughty Brit food and carafes of claret to its audience of duffers, grandees and wealthy tourists.Yadda yadda, let’s go to Mishkin’s or Opera Tavern or wherever the cool Covent Garden money is…Rules 35 Maiden Lane, London WC2E 7LB, 020-7836 5314
Well, not me, bro’. I’m in Rules, which faces dismissiveness from the beardie foodiegentsia with the kind of amused sigh that can only come from somewhere that’s been cramming them in, day and night, since 1798. For widgeon, snipe and ptarmigan, and for belted Galloway cattle, from their own estates. And for afternoons: I recently discovered that it doesn’t close between lunch and dinner, perfect for the cinq-à-sept liaison, naughty chums.