Tori U.
Yelp
London's premier boutique hotel is as veritably mysterious and stirring as the mandrake root itself.
We were lured, by chance, into the dark corridor of the Newman St dweller by its siren-esque operatic music, though I had heard murmurs of the 2017 debut of the Mandrake the year before. Popular with artists, actors, and ecclectic-loving Westend-ers, the Mandrake is like a beautiful nightmare.
The interior is inspired with quilts of alternating heavy and light-weight textures and gothic colours, heavily leaning on purples and deep reds. Everything is dimly lit, intensifying the art on every corner, from ancient masks to hallucagenic oil paintings of haunting visages. The star of the Waeska long bar is the horned alpaca donning peacock regalia, commissioned as part of the owner's personal collection. The bar's inner core features a sky-high courtyard of vegetation, palm trees and foliage summoning visions of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. Cabbalistic and abstruse, the canvases of winged creatures, many mirrors, and the spindly, reaching branches of the potted plans conjures up the occult.
Surrealism is pervasive in every turn. With one step I felt trapped in a dark Goya panting, the next a melting into a Dali, but all the while i couldn't shake the creeping shop of horrors flavour. I wouldn't want to be there alone at night with the devilish shadows.
The cocktails are bewitching creations, each named after a botanical, a spice, or a wood - 'Nutmeg' 'Pine' and 'Sage' with delicate chamomile, mandrake essence, shiitake, and guarana as stand out ingredients.
Worth a visit from a spiritual, cultural, and mystical point.