The Audley

The Audley, 41-43 Mount Street, Mayfair, London W1K 2RP Walking through Mayfair recently (as you do) it suddenly occurred to me why this district has always held such prestige. There are many other wealthy areas in a city that’s one of the world’s largest money pots: Knightsbridge, Belgravia, Chelsea etc but none of them quite carry the same mystique as Mayfair. And the reason has more to do with just its position on the Monopoly board. Mayfair’s name was made before the Mayfair Set of the 60’s but those ruthless tycoons cemented the area’s position as the most fashionable and indeed clubbable London district. Clubs like Annabel’s and Tramp (lavish new smoking terrace recently unveiled) were the byword for celebrity hangouts in the 60’s and 70’s. Those names are now seen as old old school but in recent years Mayfair has poached much of today’s top celebrity scene from neighbouring Soho, pulling in the A to Z listers with clubs like The Embassy, Mahiki and Whisky Mist. I wasn’t looking for anything as bling or booming as these haunts. Just a wee pub to sit in for around half an hour. And I wasn’t interested in finding something mockney owned by Guy Ritchie and similarly over-exposed and under-talented associates. So, something humble then, or at least as humble as is possible in these environs. I had gone past the best-looking hotel in London, Claridges, but had lacked the nerve to go past the doormen to sneak a peek at the art deco fumoir and rest my tired feet that had taken me from Euston at the same time, so I resolved to enter the next place that looked welcoming. On Audley Street, which runs roughly north to south, I spied a pub of the same name at the corner with Mount Street. In I went. It was reasonably busy already even though it was still late morning. Nicely darkened interior with chandeliers that wouldn’t have been out of place in an expensive restaurant or hotel. Looked like plenty of staff but there was a pause before service, which I only tolerate because it gives me more time to look around without anyone suspecting I’m a tax officer or other such snoop. I did notice the red ceiling, the lustrous red ornate kind with elaborate plasterwork that feature in so many London pubs. The deep red above goes well with the black and white chequer board strip of flooring in front of the immaculately polished bar. When I was served I took a Tribute ale from the St. Austell brewery. Quite an enjoyable beer it was too, sitting outside in the double enclosure they have going; the original railings and their own demarcation of the wide pavement getting as close to a beer garden feel as the surroundings allow. Customised troughs for cigarette butts, powerful burners, and plenty of foliage complete the thoughtful outdoor provisions. So comfortable it was that I was nursing my half pint (I had a business appointment in Hammersmith so had to stay reasonably compus. It proved to be another dead-end appointment, but I wasn’t to know that then). The lunchtime rush hadn’t begun so I was left undisturbed by other patrons or staff so could peruse the food menu at ease. Taylor Walker the pub owners seem to go big on British classics, such as fish and chips. They even detail on their website how many they sell across their string of London pubs. 10,000 a week! I picked up a few more details from their website such as Michelle Obama’s impromptu visit a couple of years ago and the Audley’s other celebrity patrons. The only other thing I noticed on site was the neighbouring Cellar 41 Pool Club, something a little out of place round here. A little further along Mount Street is Scott’s seafood restaurant, a distinguished place reputed to be Ian Fleming’s favourite. He’s the sort of fellow you associate with Mayfair. I left for my appointment that I hoped, vainly, would furnish me with a few more pennies, not a problem for most Mayfair residents. And that’s one of the points about it. In Mayfair you feel detached, protected from the rest of the world. Partly because it’s cosily enclosed by Park Lane, Oxford Street, Regent Street and Piccadilly. And partly because the shops, banks, restaurants, clubs, businesses and embassies here inhabit somewhere other than the real world elsewhere. But that’s what you think once you leave Mayfair and look in. From within, looking out, it’s quite the opposite. Merely a matter of perspective.

Where's My Bloody Invite!? - The Dram Awards 2011

The recent Dram Magazine’s Scottish Licensed Trade Awards were, I am told, a good old shindig for all invited. A musical welcome outside the newish (Grand) Central Hotel and plush surroundings inside were only some of the delights waiting for those lucky enough to be included. The hotel itself has an interesting bar, Champagne Central, the grand but unimaginative name. It didn’t feature in any of the award nominee lists, perhaps because its teething problems remain (see my earlier blog). Anyway, as I mentioned in my Tweet on the awards I wasn’t invited to the jamboree. Evidently they wanted it kept to those in the ‘trade’ not including humble punters or critics. I will, however, try to keep my disappointment hidden within the following comments on the winners and runners-up. Moskito on Bath Street has been a thriving operation for over a decade, somehow managing to feature in the bar scene with barely a ripple of punter recognition. Its confines are best for a low-key night or after work drinks. However, it and its owners must be well-regarded by their peers and competitors, judging by their winning of the Benromach Award for Success in the owner/operator category. The Oak Tree, in Balmaha was runner-up. A good place by the bonnie banks in sunshine, but it needs to do something about its toilets, they get overwhelmed when the crowds appear. In the multiple operator category The Ubiquitous Chip group were victorious, a fair reward for their consistency and subtle innovation, which has continued despite the death of Ronnie Clydesdale last year. Part of the group, Stravaigin on Gibson Street, was unlucky to be just a runner-up, along with the Roseleaf, Edinburgh, in the Gastro Pub Award. Stravaigin’s extension and refurb has been a great success and they must have more than doubled their takings since, the drinking and eating side of the pub now given equal space. The winner, the Birds & The Bees in Stirling must be providing a great service to its customers to have beaten suchcontenders. Whiski in Edinburgh, on North Bridge Street, won the Glenmorangie Whisky Bar prize. I haven’t yet visited this bar but I like the 3 in 1 concept; a whisky shop, bistro and bar in the same location. This kind of business, combining retail with licensed premises is the way of the future for drinking establishments, following the lead of coffee shop/delicatessens that are proving popular everywhere. Kraken Rum sponsored the Cocktail Bar of the Year. The winner, Bath Street Pony, occupies a site that has housed many different bar ventures, The Brick and Tom Tom come to mind, of differing success. Pony seems to be on the right track and has obviously established itself as a cocktail or premium destination, something that none of the previous bars had done. To have beaten such contenders as Bond No. 9 in Leith – absinthe experts amongst other attributes – and Booly Mardy’s – which has probably the best team of bar staff in the city – in the cocktail category, shows impressive development. Staying with great bar/cocktail staff, the winner of the Apprentice of the Year was Niall Webster of Bramble. He is part of an outstanding team. My first visit saw me impressed by the mixing skill and retentive memory of the barman – not sure if he was head honcho Mikey – undiminished by the departure of my brother for being tired/emotional/drunk. You get used to these things. Two Glasgow bars were nominated as New Bar of the Year. Boudoir on Candleriggs is trying to re-invent the wine bar, with luxurious drapes and a connoisseur’s attitude to fine wines, and fine imported beers that go beyond your Tiger and Moretti beers. I remember a 750ml Duchessa from Italy at £16. Expensive yes, but good to see beer being treated with the same respect as wine. Limelight at Hotel Indigo, the other nominee, must be getting good press to have reached such dizzy heights already but it needs to buck the trend of unsuccessful hotel bars and a vicinity that dies after 6pm and at the weekends. It actually won the best design award as well as this other nomination but it may well be a look that is lost on everyone bar hotel guests. In some ways its not surprising that Oran Mor won the Sunday Mail readers Bar of the Year. Its sheer size and location mean plenty of punters who will then vote in greater numbers than most other places. However, it has lost what it once had, the feeling that it was at the centre of things. Six or seven years after its opening there’s still no background music to dampen the harsh cacophony of hundreds of conversations and the smell of stale beer round the bar area is a big problem. For late-night drinking I much prefer the small bar next door – it even has a DJ – or downstairs. The switch of the brasserie into an after-dark bar shows though that owner Colin Beattie is still innovating and listening to what his customers want. Something he’s been doing for countless years across the city, from Jarvies and Granny Gibbs in Yoker and Scotstoun, to the Liosmor, Ben Nevis and many more in the heart of the west end. He was rewarded with the Lifetime Achievement gong. For that longevity, contemporary bar design that doesn’t compromise locality, and his support for the arts as well as the hospitality sector, Mr Beattie was probably the most deserving winner of the evening

Browns Bar & Brasserie - 1 George Square

Browns Bar & Brasserie, 1 George Square, Glasgow G2 1DY

George Square needed a place like this, something befitting Glasgow’s official centre and grandest landmark. Up until Browns, all we had were another bland Wetherspoons (Counting House) the shifty pubs under Queen Street station, the Millennium Hotel, and the modest The Edge on the corner with Cochrane Street.

Admittedly Jamie Oliver has arrived, but it is just a name and any place that forbids reservations just to create the buzz of queues at its door, doesn’t feature on my radar. I also doubt whether you can just enter for an imbibe-only visit.

Browns bills itself as a Bar & Brasserie and first impressions are well, impressive. There’s a large area greeting you inside the single glass door – should really be a double door to block cold north breezes – I’d say around 3,000 square feet, with a dais on the far right of the room.

Colour scheme is an elegant union of creams and browns and the seating eclectic, my favourite being the high chairs that have their own personal bar; the tables resembling a counter. The management seem to prefer having you wait to get seated judging by the way a waitress intercepted our path to a nice table with curved couch seating. My impatience, nay abruptness, causing me trouble again.

We were graciously allowed to stay where we were though and watched as others waited for a staff member to lead them to their table. At least half seemed to have booked and were led to the dais, joined soon by a group of ladies to our left who had been enjoying birthday celebration drinks at the aforementioned high-chairs. I like that: no, not ladies, well yes of course I do…oh forget it… I mean pre-dinner drinks. Gets you in the mood, so most people say.

The food is brasserie-style, no surprises there, and reasonable for such a central location. The grill options look particularly well-priced and does the Prix Fixe. This is the kind of place you would meet an old friend from out of town, fresh off the train, an easy rendezvous in an establishment that won’t embarrass the city.

A place also for taking mum for afternoon tea. That’s what me and The Muse did, even though respective mothers were missing. There had been a wee wait before we received any sort of menu, but we disguised our slight annoyance and took to observing the interior more closely. The distinctive small barrel-shaped chandeliers caught our attention, unusual. The large central bar – wood-slatted with a metal top - is quite stately but could do with being a slightly darker wood to give it real presence. And perhaps they could do without the branding on the large clocks, but overall there is a pleasing old-fashioned salon feel to this joint.

That extends to the nicely formal service and to the high tea we received. Cucumber, and salmon sandwiches minus the crust, cream scones, selection of four cakes, and loose tea with a strainer each. This and a choice of the particular tea blend. All for £10.95 for two. Great value.

I know a lot of places are doing high-tea now, but it can be done badly, as a recent visit to The Blind Pig on Byres Road demonstrated, their effort, including chipped crockery and lukewarm tea, was abysmal. Here, I had all the tea my pot could provide and the food was light and without obvious flaw.

A few groups of gents had now arrived around the bar seeking mere session-beers, and service was a little slow for them as the barman struggled with a few orders especially with cocktails. We decide to add to his troubles. The cocktail list is just one part of varied selections in all aspects of booze, from the often-neglected dessert wines & ports, to gins – 9 choices – to beers, which include one of my personal favourites, Cusquena. I don’t need, though, to be told the units of alcohol in each beer, as they have decided to inform you at the bottom of the page.

The offer of one of their Signature Cocktails, a selection of around 15, for £4.95 from Sunday afternoon until Wednesday close was too good to pass. The Muse went for a Bramble, while I headed east for a Sherbet Caiprovska.

After placing our order I went downstairs where there are more tables in an area that looks like an overflow or for private-hire. But it also features a really imaginative seating layout. A select few tables sit out under the glass pavement above, an outside-in feel to be enjoyed whether it’s sunny or when, more commonly, the raindrops gather then slide along and down the glass, making you glad to be indoors.

I returned to enjoy my cocktail and The Muse and I, reflected, as is our wont on these occasions that the city has gained something here. This is despite the fact that Browns is part of a London-based chain that has now spread into double figures across the country, we do like to see home-grown ventures.

Browns is likely to compete with establishments like Urban Brasserie in the middle-income-elegance stakes, and Glasgow has an inhabitant worthy of its most prestigious address.

Highland Hospitality? Kinloch Hourn Farmhouse B&B, The Real Food Cafe, The Cluanie Inn, The Bothy, The Ballachulish Hotel

Kinloch Hourn Farmhouse B&B and Tea Room The Real Food Cafe, Tyndrum The Cluanie Inn The Bothy, Fort Augustus The Ballachulish Hotel Despite the inclement weather forecast we pressed ahead with our mini-Highland break, sampling as much hospitality as we could stomach, and including a wee stroll or two amidst the sedentary nature of the whole. A warning though: This recent holiday from the confines of Glasgow included very little imbibing, so it breaks from my habitual brief but hopefully it will be as worth reading as the rest. Tyndrum & Spean Bridge I’ve been in the Real Food Café in Tyndrum before, for fish and chips on that occasion, about two years ago. As I recall things didn’t run quite as smooth back then, the operation callow and finding its way. Its reputation was good though even then, and the slight untidiness of the place and mediocre service disappointed. Now, the place is well established, their systems tried and tested, reputation still growing, and the service excellent. They even have an adjoining porch with wood-burning stove. We enjoyed a mid-morning coffee at the sociable high bench seating along with the best flapjack I’ve eaten since school play pieces. Sweet, great texture and remarkably light. The coffees weren’t bad either. All the cakes are freshly home-baked – we exalted in the sight of a new batch of scones appearing – and the hot meals including pies, chicken, sausages, burgers and curries use locally sourced and referenced meat. And the speciality of fish and chips, which continues to win admiration and awards, features sustainable options such as coley. The place, which invariably has a real buzz, is everything a modern café should be. At least six wet walkers had entered and were enjoying their break from the elements before we left. Little did we know that we were to get even more sodden than them before the weekend was done. The Real Food has brought another dimension to Tyndrum, a village blessed with being an ideal stop-off point on the way to Glencoe, Fort William and further north. The café does rival its near neighbour The Green Welly Stop, but having talked with its owners I know they see this competition as a good thing, knowing that it will bring more footfall and benefit to the village as a whole. We moved onward through the rain, only stopping at the Spean Bridge Woollen Mill cafeteria. Not very cool, I know, but the only other place we could find was the next door hotel’s chippie whose fatty smells warded us off very quickly. The mill’s cafeteria laid on baked potatoes, chilli, lasagne, basic salads, paninis etc. Uninspiring but necessary in this natural stage point in many journeys north. Kinloch Hourn & Cluanie Inn Luckily the rain ended around Invergarry near the southern tip of Loch Ness, as we turned off the main A82, heading west on the country’s longest dead end road. 22 miles later we reached Kinloch Hourn. This is as remote a settlement as you can get. Two farmhouses with three residents in total. One offers a small B&B –more of which later. Car parked, we trekked for two days – first night in a bothy, sadly without a recognised bar, so no review for that – and the second was back at the aforementioned farmhouse after a 13 ½ hour tramp through the best and worst that the Highlands can offer. High passes, secluded lochans, sea vistas, isolated lochs, raging torrents and treacherous mud flats. The last of these almost sucked me to somewhere cold and dark and the mud covering made it hard for me to look respectable when we arrived back at Kinloch Hourn desperately looking for a bed for the night. Luckily Mary and Joe, the folk who run the wee B&B took pity on us despite there being no official rooms left. Joe took us up the steep stairs in the overflow building across the yard. Basic accommodation but very welcome. We returned to the living room for hot soup, cups of tea and a bath each in their own bathroom, their little diesel generator re-booted just for our benefit. In the morning a massive cooked breakfast was laid in front of us. Over the beautifully cooked eggs, bacon and sausage we talked to Joe about life in such a remote spot and his experiences helping walkers in trouble. On leaving he handed us the bill. A ridiculously tiny amount for the hospitality we had received. We added something to the bill and drove back along the B road, pausing halfway to allow a procession of MGs past on their way for tea and scones at Joe’s place. The rest of our weekend was spent in Skye where unfortunately we were unable to sample any of the interesting pubs and hotel bars in and around Portree. Next time I will include the Isles Inn and Portree Hotel on Somerled Square at least. We did mange to visit the Cluanie Inn on the way there. A habitual favourite of mine, situated fifteen to twenty miles from any other hostelry, on the edge of Loch Claunie on the A87. It’s been tweeked over the years, different owners I think. The open- fire in the bar area down steps to the right of the main room still remains, but some of the cosy charm has gone. I need to return on a cold winter night to find out if I’m correct. Fort Augustus & Ballachulish On the leisurely drive south we detoured via Fort Augustus to see what has changed there since a night spent in the The Lovat hotel four years ago. The Lovat offers features such as bio-mass underfloor heating and other trendy boutique hotel bits and pieces alongside more traditional highland-lodge-style fittings. The open-plan bar area lacks a little atmosphere though so imbibers need some alternatives. There’s 2 or 3 places by the impressive locks that join the Caledonian Canal with Loch Ness. The Lock Inn is a basic little pub but not without interest, cosy little corners and community feel to it. Its closest neighbour is The Bothy, a far more ambitious and spacious establishment. I remember watching the Rugby World Cup 2007, an Ireland match I think, and the atmosphere was nice and raucous. I also remember the tiny toilets up in the rafters. This time we wanted some edibles and asked for a table in the front bar area. Sadly they shipped us through into the characterless back extension conservatory. Thus the specials board was out of sight, and not one of the waiting staff informed us what was on it. The menu was a dreadful affair, nothing fresh nor local in sight. The experience not helped by us seeing the kitchen staff going back and forward through the courtyard to retrieve the next frozen thing to be cooked. Two of those things were a carpet, sorry veggie, burger and the worst venison burger in history delivered to yours truly. Even our request for a baked potato instead of a burger-roll was swiftly refused. Neighbouring tables weren’t doing any better, four German tourists nearby had asked for local whiskies, but were left to choose for themselves as the waiter didn’t have a clue. But he did shout out their order for all to hear once they had picked. Nice touch. I don’t know if The Bothy is owned by a local or is part of a national chain but whoever is in charge is complacently counting their money – the place was busy – while offering sub standard fare and service. I left the Muse to deal with the bill while I went upstairs, thinking that I had seen better food served in a real bothy in the middle of the wilds of Knoydart three days previously and that was freeze-dried pasta carried in on backpacks. The toilets were how I remembered them: cramped. But now there was a shower cubicle, with no curtain. Good for any exhibitionists passing through, needing to freshen-up. One more stop before our return to Glasgow. The Ballachulish Hotel sits under the bridge of the same name. Once you have crossed from the north instead of going left to Glencoe and beyond, take the Oban road. The hotel sits by the confluence of Loch Linnhe and Loch Leven, alongside the Dragon’s Tooth golf course whose use is free for residents. Its baronial appearance impresses, rather more so than the anodyne Isles of Glencoe Hotel just along the road. The Isles, also owned by Akkeron Hotels, is a modern building housing accommodation and leisure facilities available for use by residents of both establishments. The Ballachulish’s appeal grows as you enter the Bulas Bar & Bistro, contemporary luxury as the blurb says, alongside the traditional wood panelling of the main reception and hall. Comfortable and chic, with decent leather seating, exposed stone and all the latest features you would expect in a city wine bar. Perhaps, then, not wholly appropriate for the setting, but perfectly acceptable. The menu offers hot basic meals, as well as, a selection of cakes and muffins and warm scones with cream and jam, from 12-6pm. Then the more extensive night-time brasserie fare comes in. So at mid-afternoon we expected no problems ordering some fresh coffee and scones. We waited for a good 5 minutes for anyone to appear at the bar. Eventually a young eastern-European lady appeared and took our order. We’d been settled for a wee while when she returned to say there were no scones but she could offer us shortbread instead, as if scones and shortbread were one and the same thing. Shortbread! No money-back was offered but we insisted we would only pay for the coffees. The Muse then went looking for the manager while I began scribbling this blog, nothing like frustration to get the juices flowing. The manager was unhelpful, stating that he should have been told that they couldn’t provide the food advertised, and nothing more. No apologies, no explanation. A very disappointing end to our little sojourn and survey of Highland hospitality. Ironic that the most humble of our hosts, at Kinloch Hourn, provided the best welcome and dedication to service. But the bad points remain in Scotland, continuing to drop the holidaymaker experience below expectations, squandering the chance that our landscape provides and making it less likely we will ever reach our potential as a thriving tourist destination.