A long time ago when I was much younger and poorer, the Criterion bar in Piccadilly used to be my starting point for many a West End Saturday night out.  The place would be crammed with people like myself trying to make half of lager last for two hours and  I remember thinking how shocking it was that we, the hoi polloi, were allowed into such a beautiful building. Surely all that breathing and sweating would play havoc with the  opulent, gold mosaic ceilings?  Well, last Sunday I returned to the Criterion, older and with my goldsmith husband on my arm.  We’re not rolling in it but  we could afford a glass of Champagne and that should have made me feel more at ease; more deserving of its splendour.  Strangely, I felt more at odds with the Criterion than ever, even though  I was dressed to blend in with my golden surroundings.

Golden Gill in golden Criterion.

While quaffing my Champagne I surveyed the near-deserted space with its few tourists taking afternoon tea and thought, “Bollocks to all this.  The Criterion needs sweat and noise and beery breath to bring it back to life.”  Yes, it’s all very restored and beautiful and I’m sure it gets very busy but it all feels a bit corporate + – tourist compared to my day.  We quickly moved on to Zedel’s.

I fought back the urge to start snapping away at Zedel’s.  No, not snapping at the waiters, snapping with my camera.  It looks so bloody good although its own website does it no justice at all.  So have a look here.  And then imagine gorgeous girls in quirky hats eating oysters at those tables.  That’s better.  I did find a picture on the web of the steak hache which I had growled over – that creamy puddle was so deeply delicious that it almost had a hint of coffee about it.  This dish was £7.50; only a couple of quid more than a Mc Donald’s.  Shocking!  The entire meal for four of us (3 couses from the a la carte) with oysters, 2 glasses of cremant, a bottle of £27 pinot noir and fizzy water came to £140 (only £35 a head). My only dislike (and I’m sure others will love it) was the addition of crushed, pink sugared almonds to my floating island.

Very French toilettes. I don’t mean smelly.

I particularly like the fact that one can eat in the Brasserie then circumnavigate to the Bar Americaine, then the Crazy Coqs theatre and finally to the lovely loos without leaving the basement.   We loved Zedel’s so much that we returned the next evening for another sneaky glass of cremant and a dozen oysters.  The wine was warm as it had not yet made it to the fridge but came with apologies and was rectified with an ice cube.  The second batch of oysters took a bit of fiddling with which is fine; but Sunday’s had been prefectly prepared for sliding straight  down the hatch.

On leaving Zedel’s we parted company with Laura, my lovely agent, who said, “Darlings, have fun at Hix.  I think he must be such a friendly chap with his funny, squashed in face.” She’s hysterical.  Of course Ramsey has a somewhat squashed in/driven over face but it hardly makes him look friendly.  Go on, click on the link, you won’t regret it.  Bless him.

Anyhow, our hangover from Saturday ruled out more alcohol at Hix and we had to drink a ginger beer.  Paying £4 for a fizzy drink  seemed terribly wrong so we  made our exit after just one.  To be honest, Hix is not a place I would like to get bladdered in as the sunken bar arrangement gave me the optical illusion wobbles. Nice fox though.

Hix fox

And finally, a word on our hotel the Thistle Piccadilly.  Not a name one usually associates with glamour and luxury is it, ‘Thistle’?  But this one had been done up a treat.  We were upgraded to a suite with plenty of room for running around squealing at the joys of being in London for Fashion Week, on our own, without the kids.

So, if it were not for a balaclaved gang with sledge hammers trying (and failing) to break into the husband’s shop while we were away, it would have been the perfect weekend.  No, I’m not joking and yes, they have all been arrested. I leave you with a picture of the still smiling couple on the morning after the attempted robbery.

Still smiling.