“Rooms like this” | Bar Américain, Brasserie Zédel & Lorna Luft at The Crazy Coqs

I absolutely adore glamour, darlings. For as far back as I can remember a certain type of glitz and sophistication has spoken to my soul. I’m a sucker for the 1920s and 1930s: Hollywood, deco, dinner clubs, gowns by Adrian and Irene and other people with one name.

As much as I do appreciate being alive in this age of technology and all that, I often think I was born in the wrong era

Of course, without the aid of a handy time machine it’s all a nostalgia that’s not mine, but garnered from the texts that are left – movies, of course, but also the stories told first and second hand. There’s the odd remnant left though: places. Even if we do view them through a lens of almost a century passed and all this modern stuff in the way. It’s an old chestnut but, as much as I do appreciate being alive in this age of technology and all that, I often think I was born in the wrong era. So, when I first stepped into the melange of entertainment, booze and grub that is London’s Bar Américain, Brasserie Zédel and The Crazy Coqs, my heart was all aflutter. Deco heaven, darlings.

My experience on my last visit was my ideal – time travel brim-filled with luxury, luscious food and topped off with Garland DNA: the cabaret act that evening was Judy’s daughter, Miss Lorna Luft.

We began with Bar Americain which is gorgeous: full of dark wood and brass, linocut print wallpaper (those new fangled airplanes), and cream coloured Bakelite space-agey doodahs. It screamed deco authenticity. Because a couple of years ago when this whole complex was all done out by architectural firm Dixon Jones as part of the Quadrant Three development of the area, the original feel of the place was deliberately preserved. Originally magicked up in the 30s by former set designer turned deco king Oliver Bernard, there’s something a little bit Shining about setting foot in the bar here. One expects to see a saucy flapper or a Dorothy Parker. The cocktail menu at Bar Américain is delightful. Recommended: The Cobbler, The Chrysler and Valentino’s Revenge.

Across the lobby then, to a meal at Brasserie Zédel, formerly The Grill Room of the Regent’s Palace Hotel back in the day (and later Oliver Peyton’s Atlantic Bar and Grill). Again the space retains the feel of that era, but instead of the intimate room of the bar, this is a vast open space with tables and banquettes galore. In fact, the only thing I could fault about the whole experience was that the sound of other diners dominates. But it didn’t really matter: we were all there having a good time. And if you squint, you can pretend this big, glam space is the MGM commissary. Oh look, there’s Clark Gable supping with Jean Harlow and Joan Crawford, gee that’s swell. What was missing, though, was music, which would cut through the chatter and added another layer to the atmosphere. A live pianist would have been perfect and appropriately chi-chi. Failing that some piped 30s tunes. But then this is Chris Corbin and Jeremy King’s “budget” restaurant, and lingering isn’t really the order of the day.

The menu is – unsurprisingly – French. There’s also a section for choucroute – that’s sauerkraut. Cuz this bit of the menu embraces the hinterland of Alsace Lorraine, and sauerkraut based meals are very Alsacienne, darling. My little mittel-European heart was very happy with this addition. That sauerkraut reminded me of the wonderful stuff I enjoyed in Slovakia. Honourable mention from the menu must go to the oysters, which were the nicest I’ve ever had, and the venison was simply dreamy. The duck confit in haricot beans is also terrific. The menu is rich but not heavy.

Lorna Luft at The Crazy Coqs

We chose amusing puddings – floating island and rum baba. Did I mention that my other fave era is the 70s? And I do remember that, darlings.

Onto The Crazy Coqs, which is a bijou cabaret club that, although small, is just the most perfect space for the type of artiste they specialise in. There isn’t a bad seat in the house: all give a good view of the little stage and eye contact with the acts. A pianist tickles the ivories pre-show and this got me thinking. He’s only there for the half hour twixt doors opening and the start of the show – they could put a piano in Zédel and he could play for the diners before and after his stint.

The foyer at Brasserie Zédel

Luft herself joked about the size of the room: “it’s like my living room… you’re all so close”. She also observed that where there used to be “rooms like this” all over the world for a cabaret artiste to perform in, they are a rarity now. All the more reason to treasure this space and glory in the intimate joy of watching an act in such a setting.

Lorna was a big voice in a small room. She is a bit one-note belt-n-vibrato for me (I prefer a vocal with more shade and texture) but that belting is of its type and this is the perfect venue for an old school cabaret chanteuse. She worked the room, making her entrance via the main door and doing a circuit of the tables. The show was well structured, smooth, engaging. And the moment we got to watch Lorna watching footage of her mama singing to her young self… Well, I may have had something in my eye, darlings. C

Brasserie Zédel, The Crazy Coqs and Bar Américain, 20 Sherwood Street, London W1F
020-7734 4888; brasseriezedel.com

Corinna Tomrley is a doctor of pop culture and an artist who lives in London. Her latest work is the multi-media project For The Love of Judy. She is 87% glitter