Justas P.
Google
Daphne has potential. The restaurant is very polished around the edges, but a bit unjelled in the middle. I receive perfect welcome at the door despite dropping by without a booking - but it's an early mid-week evening, the business is quiet. The bar is gorgeous, the front room and select nooks and crannies quite stylish, but the beige (not only in colour) dining room with its randomly-looking selection and placement of artworks feels like a misplaced school canteen in the middle of a restaurant; the vibe is confusing. My meal starts on high with lovely oysters followed by a surprisingly delicious mortadella skewer recommended by the most helpful bartender, the star of this review. He also offers to sample their homemade rhubarb shrub mocktail that is so satisfying that I end up ordering one. As Wednesday is apparently pasta night at Daphne, I go with the pasta special for my main. The casarecce is beautiful, perfectly al dente. However, I don't eat up - not because I am full or something is wrong with the dish, I just get too bored with the initially nice and fresh but, in the long run, just too beige bolognaise. The olive oil cake for desert gets me into better mood - remarkable it is not, but really well-crafted and yummy, with deliciously firm cherries on top. As I get up to leave, the star bartender doesn't charge me for his lovely concoction. Daphne hasn't gotten all her ducks in a row yet, but she cares, she'll do well.