The Guardian
Grace Dent headed to “the Dover, a New York-style Italian restaurant on Mayfair’s Dover Street”, largely on the promise that it “was a place one could hear and be heard. Having now been, I can attest this is true: velvet curtains, wood panelling and not one but two tablecloths on each cover make every table feel like its own private island, where diners can hear their friends and, crucially, be unheard by other tables. This is gold dust. Privacy is romantic.
“The food is far better than I’d envisaged. This is basic comfort food served with aplomb: starters of prime beef steak tartare, nicely seasoned and pretty to look at, with a truffle and hazelnut salad, or prawns in marie rose sauce ornately arranged to resemble Mount Vesuvius.”
“This is a restaurant to keep up your sleeve for people who are sick and tired of restaurants – sick of the noise, sick of concrete walls, sick of sharing plates and of dishes arriving ‘as they’re cooked’ – and for those who are tired of opaque menus and feel with general dismay that the golden age of dining is behind us. This is a place to dress up nice, open a door to 1970s upscale but naughty New York and eat a slice of baked cheesecake brulee.”
Grace Dent - 2024-02-23
