Gulag Archipelago
Civilian’s Editor-at-large Karen Krizanovich goes to dinner at Archipelago and doesn’t eat
Civilian’s Editor-at-large Karen Krizanovich goes to dinner at Archipelago and doesn’t eat
To quote the lyrics of Steve Martin’s “Grandmother’s Song”, I will now “criticise things I don’t know about”. Archipelago – a restaurant a person I once knew said was good – has moved from London’s Whitfield Street to a spot on Cleveland Street, across the road from what was once a workhouse in Charles Dickens’s day. A few weeks ago, I tried to dine at Archipelago. Though I made a reservation, the power of the restaurant’s creativity rendered me invisible. I stood by the maître d’ station as five servers did important tasks like chatting by the kitchen, serving food, clearing a table and setting up another. I had to remind myself that a novelty restaurant like this doesn’t need to worry about quality, or functioning professionally. Like a floating venue, or one built in a tree hut, or on the 39th floor of a skyscraper, people will come here no matter what.
I am not a flincher – in Cambodia, I ate balut, fertilised duck egg
The schtick of Archipelago is that you eat rare animals, or rather, “exotic” ones. This idea was fun in the 20th century when we had species to spare. In the 21st century, however, it’s more Gordon Gekko than Gordon Ramsay. I am not a flincher – in Cambodia, I ate balut, fertilised duck egg – yet still, I believe that if you must eat something weird, it shouldn’t be Marius the giraffe. Make it pigeon or that “other” white meat, squirrel. Eating bugs is very eco, yes, but eating à la carte at Archipelago slots better into that scene in Noah where Ray Winstone bites the head off a lizard.
Ignoring the décor (possibly a collection of all the non-hero props from The African Queen) and the moody chiaroscuro thrown over its clientele (outlander in town proposes to girlfriend, hiding the cubic zirconia in her python carpaccio), Archipelago may in fact be the best dining experience in town. You can find out if, like hundreds of other happy eaters, you possess the power of Archipelago visibility. I did not. Unseen, I stood around for a bit longer, then left. Within minutes, Bonnie Gull had me seated and watered, giving me a welcome fit for an upmarket, fish-related episode of Cheers. Now that’s what I call restaurantainment. C
Archipelago, 53 Cleveland St, London W1T 4JJ, United Kingdom
020-7383 3346; archipelago-restaurant.co.uk