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"Housed in a resplendent, rustical/minimalist luxury dining room whose vibe one critic found 'oddly unsettling' and 'a bit David Lynch'—exacerbated by 'grisly and needless muzak'—this traditional hotel grill leans on trophy ingredients like truffle and foie gras but frequently falters on execution. Signature starters disappoint: an oeuf en surprise revealed undercooked, sloppy liquid beneath a burnt exterior, and a Welsh rarebit with fresh crab that pairs ingredients that 'have little to say to each other.' Mains include an overcooked Racan chicken rendered fibrous with greasy gravy, a ferociously grilled (and unrewarding) whole Dover sole, charred-outside/soggy-within Brussels sprouts, a potato rosti 'crisped to perdition' and blackened with an excessive quantity of truffle dust. Puddings are described as sickly and a fully loaded bill can top out at over £300, making this a cautionary example of how illustrious history can sometimes be more of a burden than an asset." - George Reynolds