The Duke of Wellington
94a Crawford Street
Tel: 020 7723 2790
Date of Last Visit: Wednesday June 18th
The Victims: Rutton, Ted, Eve, Richard, Jason, Mark, Patrick
The Damage: £40ish each
The Background: Jason is in town from New York so Richard has organized dinner. Jason is the only person I know who's actually FROM the Hamptons. When I tell people I'm from Long Island, they will often say, "Oh, the Hamptons?" Which I suppose is a compliment because maybe I have that sort of fresh-faced J. Crew sort of look about me. (If you're not familiar with J. Crew, Boden is a good proxy.) And I do like Lacoste. But I'm not from the Hamptons. And I only wish my hair was as shiny and my legs were as long as a J. Crew model's.
So we meet up at the Duke of Wellington–I am, I believe, wearing Boden!–and I walk by The Beehive and am intrigued. (When we went to Coco Momo the other weekend, I suggested we try out the new place that started with a B but I couldn't remember the name. And there it is now, right in front of me.)
The Entrance: The Duke of Wellington seems smallish and dark, but maybe it's because there are so many of us, and everyone is taller than me. We are shown a table by the entrance and by the loos (how convenient) and promptly begin to demolish about five bottles of Rioja. This was not my idea.
The Food: A number of us order the lasagna, about which we're told, "It's made with a different pasta. Is that okay?" We all ask if it's still lasagna, and our server keeps explaining yes, but with a different pasta.
I don't think our server has ever had lasagna before. About the only thing it has in common with lasagna is pasta.
The Verdict: Don't order the lasagna. Not only is it not lasagna, it's not very good either. The side salad was nice though.