"This South Ken Polish institution is about as old-school as they come. You can tell by the chandeliers, but also by the way house rye bread is sliced at the big, wooden server’s station, before it’s brought over in a basket to your table. Best heavily buttered and given a pinch of salt, this bread won’t be knocking on Paul Hollywood’s door demanding recognition. But it does line the stomach for a shot of vodka later." - jake missing, rianne shlebak, sinead cranna