Daquise

"Daquise’s goulash is objectively fine. It’s not the most sumptuous version of the dish you might have had, or even imagined. But that’s more than OK. Chandeliers hang in this Polish time warp in South Kensington, and borscht is ladled into your bowl tableside. Sitting in Daquise’s grand, semi-distressed dining room makes us wonder why this traditional ideal of a restaurant is no longer in vogue. Romanticism aside, the schnitzel is pretty good and a shot of ice-cold vodka helps." - jake missing, heidi lauth beasley, rianne shlebak, sinead cranna, daisy meager

"They don’t make them like they used to, and certainly not in the case of Daquise. This old-school Polish spot around the corner from South Ken station feels like it hasn’t changed in half a century or so—and that’s a good thing. Fading pictures hang on the wood-panelled walls and its homely tiled dining room is full of faces who hug the staff like old friends. The menu has everything you would expect: vibrant borscht expertly ladeled to the peril of every white tablecloth, piquant herring, and crispy schnitzel that you can’t go wrong with." - rianne shlebak, jake missing, sinead cranna

"Chandeliers hang and borscht is ladled into your bowl tableside at this wonderful Polish institution in South Kensington. Sitting in Daquise’s gracefully aged dining room—part tiled, part distressed, but wholly elegant—makes us wonder why this traditional ideal of a restaurant is no longer in vogue. The fur-clad clientele, additional pieces of Daquise’s old-school furniture, decompress at being served in the most thorough but familiar of fashions. Yes, the goulash is overcooked, and no the pierogies aren’t the finest, but a fail-safe schnitzel rarely goes amiss." - rianne shlebak, sinead cranna, jake missing

"Daquise has the air of a dining room that hasn’t changed for half a century. Chandeliers hang alongside old photos and borscht is ladled tableside at this wonderfully old-school Polish institution in South Kensington. Sitting in its grand, aged dining room—part tiled, part distressed, but wholly elegant—makes us wonder why this traditional ideal of a restaurant is no longer in vogue. But then we chew on the beef goulash for an eternity and are reminded that, often, you can’t have it all. The clientele, additional pieces of Daquise’s antique furniture, decompress at being served in the most thorough but familiar of fashions. There’s a sense that some of these folks—diplomats, ageing film stars, children of landed gentry—have been ordering the schnitzel since before they could hold cutlery. It’s a restaurant that feels core to many people’s histories and there’s an unmistakable charm to that. While parts of this menu should be met with a raised eyebrow, stick to the classics and you’ll be perfectly content. The tablecloths are white but the borscht is vibrant in colour and pepper. If you let your daydreams takeover, you can imagine sitting here waiting to meet your mysterious wealthy benefactor for the first time. But things like the fruit pierogies—hot dumplings filled with a slice of cold strawberry—can rupture this fantasy. That said, once a complimentary glass of ice-cold vodka arrives, you’ll more than likely fall head over heels for Daquise’s tried-and-tested method of courting once more.  " - Jake Missing