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Review

Sessions Arts Club

££££
Written by

There’s nothing interesting about a lift that’s transporting somewhere for purely functional purposes, it’s a faintly foreboding utilitarian box of doom, but a lift transporting you somewhere for fun is something quite different. It’s a thrilling journey into the unknown and in the case of the wooden and brass-detailed lift up to Sessions Arts Club, it’s a journey into London’s hottest restaurant right now. No other lift in London takes you in a room quite as beautifully (and purposefully) dilapidated as this one on Clerkenwell Green. If Miss Haversham was born into the era of Xanax this, we imagine, is how her house would look. Enormous ceilings, peeling wall paper, candle flickering and a bespectacled stalwart in the shape of Jon Spiteri (of OG French House and St. John fame) showing you to your table like beaming and bewildered extra who found his way here via Warhol’s Factory. Grandiose room aside, the food, from Florence Knight (formerly of Polpetto) hits many marks, specifically the ones named pane carasau and clams. There’s a touch of the Noble Rots about the menu in its European-seasoned British style, and indeed about the wine, mainly because they supply it. But Sessions isn’t ubiquitous-feeling at all, in fact it’s quite the opposite.

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