Words By Clara Gesteira
There is something slightly funny about finding Dante, a Greenwich Village institution, inside Claridge’s. Then again, the British capital has had a fairly serious New York love affair for some time now.
Inside, the room has all the polish you would expect, with green and blue tones, botanical murals, gilded details, grand curtains and David Yarrow photographs of the Amalfi Coast, while the extended bar, armchairs and honky-tonk piano give the space a more relaxed character. It is a curious combination, one of London’s grandest hotels providing the setting for a restaurant born as a neighbourhood café among the brownstones and bars of downtown Manhattan.
It was Linden Pride and Nathalie Hudson who took over the original Caffè Dante in 2015, when it was already a century-old neighbourhood fixture. Under their stewardship, the restaurant developed an internationally recognised bar programme, eventually taking the top spot on the World’s 50 Best Bars list, while the cooking and aperitivo tradition remained part of the picture.
The drinks still carry plenty of that personality: the Dirty Martini comes with blue cheese-stuffed olives, while the £90 Vintage Negroni is made with 1970s Gordon’s gin, Martini Rosso and Campari. 10 years later, that New York institution has a permanent address in London, inside one of the city’s most recognisable hotels.
By evening, the room is much darker than you might expect. Little pools of supporting light dotted around the room, with warm candles flickering on every table and zero hard overhead light in sight. Anyone with strong opinions about interiors will understand the fuss. Massive arrangements of blowsy pink peonies, so oversized and improbably pink that they could easily have looked plastic somewhere else.
On paper, Dante could easily be mistaken for another fancy hotel den, as London has no shortage of them. People watching, dressing up for the occasion, fun cocktails that can do serious damage to the wallet and, inevitably, a mirror selfie at the posh toilet: all the ingredients for a solid good time. That was more or less what I had come expecting.
Refreshingly, the small-shareable-plates pandemic has not yet reached this corner of Mayfair. The portions are defiantly substantial, with impressive cuts of steak, generous plates of pasta and a smash burger that you simply know means business coming out on a silver tray. It was a relief to find a menu that encourages you to order an actual dinner without feeling as though you have somehow missed the point of the restaurant.
If you’re already going all out, the caviar tarts make perfect little bites with a cocktail, and this is a good moment to let whoever is looking after your table suggest something based on what you like. They know what they are doing, and it is fun to give them a little room to steer you.
The crudo selection of yellowfin tuna, hamachi and hand-dived scallop is as good as you might expect to find at an excellent Japanese restaurant, with beautiful slices of fish served chilled alongside a fresh, citrusy granita that makes perfect sense. It is also a good moment to switch to wine or Champagne before moving on to the mains, where there are plenty of good options.
The lobster linguine at the neighbouring table had us second-guessing our choice, while the chicken alla diavola seemed to be a massive hit, judging by the number of plates we saw rolling out of the kitchen. For a larger party, though, it would be hard to miss the opportunity to order the rib-eye on the bone. Cooked over the fire and big enough to feed two, it arrives perfectly medium, melt-in-your-mouth tender and gloriously buttery. By the time the plates were cleared, dessert was beginning to look like an ambitious proposition.
But alas, the temptation was simply too strong. The desserts are another aspect where Dante leans into its American side, with hearty, generous and slightly theatrical creations that are more playful than gimmicky.
There is no poached fruit arranged into some elaborate composition here; instead, the layered carrot cake is wonderfully moist, subtly spiced and finished with cream cheese frosting, while the sticky toffee donut comes with ice cream and a whiskey flambé, and the Fireside S’mores soft serve is exactly as indulgent as it sounds. Unsurprisingly, there is also an entire section of the menu dedicated to cocktail pairings, with suggestions designed to accompany the desserts.
The salon team is friendly, without hovering, and very good at keeping track of everything without making a performance of it. They are attentive to the small things, too, like the little dish of flaky sea salt at the table, which somehow gets refilled just as it is starting to run low.
The food is not ground-breaking, nor is there any attempt to overcomplicate things to make the concept feel more elaborate than it needs to be. It is familiar Italian-American fare, but the quality of the ingredients is evident and the cooking is confident.
There is always a little unease when a restaurant you love opens somewhere new. It is much the same feeling as hearing that your favourite book is being turned into a film: you want it to work, but there is that nagging suspicion that the new version will fall short. Having visited the original in Manhattan, I had some of that trepidation about the London export. In this case, there was little reason for it. If anything, it is a little stronger, keeping the spirit of New York while gaining something from Claridge’s along the way.
Factbox
Address: Claridge’s, Brook St, London W1K 4HR
Phone: 020 7107 8848
Reservations: opentable.co.uk
Website: dantemayfair.com
Images courtesy of Dante Mayfair.
