The Ivy

"What To Get: Any champagne that Laurence Olivier would approve of and a burger. Then, run away. Time Capsule Factor: Apart from being a key player in a remarkable period of history—the Kate Moss Noughties ‘sidebar of shame’ era—the original The Ivy brasserie in Covent Garden was also the place to be for elite theatre heads like Noël Coward way back when. These days, fourth wall chat is out and influencers are in, and it’s taken a nosedive." - jake missing, sinead cranna, heidi lauth beasley, rianne shlebak

"The Verdict: This has-been hasn’t been worth the hype for a while.  Once renowned for Kate Moss sightings and best-in-class treatment, The Ivy in Covent Garden is now somewhere that survives on reputation. The glossy, crushed velvet-clad dining room is still permanently packed with beautiful people who have a penchant for truffle. But the service has taken a sharp nosedive and the British food is boringly predictable. You might have to wait an hour for your water or repeatedly beg for a triple-figure bill, even though you’re still triggered by the entirely beige, bland cheese soufflé." - sinead cranna, rianne shlebak, jake missing, heidi lauth beasley

"The Ivy, a longstanding celebrity haunt with art deco aesthetics, transforms during Fashion Week into a central hub for the 'see and be seen' crowd." - Ty Gaskins

"The Ivy, a longstanding celebrity haunt with art deco aesthetics, transforms during Fashion Week into a central hub for the 'see and be seen' crowd." - Ty Gaskins

"The most famous restaurant in London isn’t Sketch or Sexy Fish, or even the feral Tottenham Court Road McDonald’s. It’s a restaurant that even your 14 year-old cousin in Somerset will have heard of because they’ve spent some quality time with the sidebar of shame. It’s The Ivy, of course. But once renowned for Kate Moss sightings and best-in-class treatment, it’s now somewhere that primarily survives on reputation. The glossy, crushed velvet-clad dining room is still permanently packed with beautiful people who have a penchant for truffle, but the service has taken a sharp nosedive. You might have to wait an hour for your water or repeatedly beg for a triple-figure bill, even though you’re still triggered by the entirely beige, flavourless nature of the twice-baked cheese soufflé. If your heart is set on sipping champagne in the presence of an original Eduardo Paolozzi installation, stick to the satisfying signature cheeseburger. But in the name of all things celebratory, don’t come here for a special occasion. There are much better, and much more reliable, options in this part of London." - Heidi Lauth Beasley