Having a mythical creature as a pet would be amazing. Lighter? Nah, but we’ve got a dragon mate. You could wake up, roll out of bed, and your unicorn could fly you clear over the North Circular, farting glitter as it goes. Commute sorted. Sounds fantastic. But in reality that dragon would be a nightmare to feed. And we have absolutely no idea how we’d hide that unicorn from our landlord. It’s all very nice in theory, but in reality it would be a complete and utter mess.
Which brings us onto Brasserie Of Light, a very shiny all day restaurant inside Selfridges. It’s got an opulent looking bar, huge people watching potential, and a casual 24 foot crystal encrusted pegasus. As a distant fantasy, it looks like the kind of magnificently tacky place where you get drunk on passion fruit cocktails, then mount that pegasus like it’s your own personal Seabiscuit ready to trot you off to the Piccadilly Institute. In reality though, this is a restaurant where you’ll spend a lot of time pushing some lukewarm goat’s cheese around your plate before finally admitting you’ve just spent some serious money on a bad meal.
The menu is basically a bit of everything, from everywhere, tasting of nothing, with something pointless added on top. Do you really want truffle on a chicken dumpling? Or a light cheese foam on an asparagus tortellini? No? But doesn’t it make it sound like we’re not charging you through the roof for some tarted up pub grub? Plus, there’s nothing quite like eating a bang-average hamburger over a mirrored table. It’s nice to watch your reflection’s disappointment in real time. All this before ordering a meringue and passion fruit dessert called ‘Butterfly Flutterby’ that robs you of any remaining dignity.
The thing is, when you first walk in to Brasserie of Light you might be impressed. It’s like Black Beauty ran away, got discovered, had a wing job, and decided to open a restaurant. Honestly, if you’d brought us here at the height of our My Little Pony phase we probably would have had a coronary and fallen head first into someone’s pathetic shrimp and avocado burger. We can’t think of many reasons to come here though, even if you happen to already be in Selfridges. But if you are lured in by all the shimmer, you should just order a starter, snap some pictures of Crystal Pegs, and have a laugh at all the ludicrousness around you. Because, really, Brasserie of Light is a place for people who’d rather say ‘look at the diamante on that’ than eat a decent meal.
You get a big portion of this very snackable fried starter, which is perfect, because it might be the only thing you eat.
Salad: noun - a cold dish of various mixtures of raw or cooked vegetables. Yeah, give us some spinach, or a little broccoli, we’ll even take some iceberg lettuce. Give. Us. The. Green. Stuff. We feel cheated.
Some so-so burrata that arrives with a dramatic smoke display. Looks moderately exciting. Smells like your drunk ambition to make cheese fondue in the microwave.
Almost 30 quid for a bit of tasteless lobster and pasta. Honestly, if an ex-server pops up with a tell all in two months to reveal this is an elaborate diet scheme to ensure the sample size clothes in Selfridges keep selling, we wouldn’t be surprised. Good for them though. We want to believe that food this bad is the result of an entrepreneurial spirit.
We can only presume that this stale bun and dollop of avocado paste situation costs £17.50 because they’re still paying off the interior design team’s crystal budget. The good news is that it comes with a large tasteless cracker.
Sounds like the latest fashion in pubic hair, actually tastes quite decent. That being said, no human adult should ever have to utter the words ‘can I get the butterfly flutterby please’, so no matter how much we liked the pomegranate and meringue, our pride says no.
Nothing like a fancy dessert to remind you of the horse meat scandal. This is not tasty. The sesame biscuit wings are pointless. And after careful office debate, we can confidently state that this is not even a pie. Alliteration be damned, this is, at best, a crumble.