My only night at Vintry and Mercer, I was stoked to test out the Vintry Izakaya. I am a sucker for dim sum and all things dumpling! I made a reservation in advance and had scoured the menu for my top picks. Bummer for me, when I arrived home to the hotel and dumped my coat and shopping, I couldn’t believe that there wasn’t a single soul dining in the Izakaya. The bellman had previously told me that the rooftop restaurant, Mercer Roof Terrace, was his personal favorite, so away I went.
Lucky for me, there were a half dozen tables of souls here so I felt a bit more comfortable. The staff were all quite attentive, and all quite cute. Amusingly, they all announced their provenance as well. An Italian waiter was not amused with my first course selection of a green salad. A Greek waiter begrudgingly admitted to liking London, but it was no Greece.
The attention and conversation were nice. As was this wine, a fresh Sancerre. And this bread, just incredible. And the amuse bouche was lovely enough to make me change my starter order. Scallops it would be after all. (My Italian waiter released a sigh of relief, I imagine).
The scallops lacked the true crispiness on the outside, but were still quite delish. The corn puree and seawee salad were an interesting interpretation to a simple dish.
Between my starter and entree, a man who had been dining at the table next door with colleagues stopped by to mention that I was very beautiful and he hoped I had someone at home who told me this every day. I was reading and so surprised by this that I am sure I gave him some awkward resting betch face instead of a proper thank you that I mustered. I decided to forgo the bit about dating a good friend who doesn’t bother with such pleasantries.
Luckily he left before my main, the fish, served with hasselback potatoes and broccoli. The fish was the most massive cut I have ever seen. This odd fat backed fish situation, but really it was an helluva butterfly filet situation resting on the potatoes below.
I skipped desert after peeping it at the table of the complimentary man next door and popped into the basement speakeasy, Do Not Disturb. After chatting with the barman, I let him choose for me and he went with this glass bird full of tequila. The glass straw and parsley anus were an interesting end to the evening. As was the work fire drill at midnight on a friday. I retired back to my glorious bed to chat with colleagues and fight fires for a few more hours before succumbing to a fitful sleep prior to my morning flight.
Mercer Roof Terrace was absolutely lovely. It had sweeping, 270 degree views of the city that had me questioning how I don’t live in London. I stood in a slight rain, sipping my last glass of wine, contemplating how I might change this fate….
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