I’ve been trying not to be so gluttonous these days. Six oysters, not twelve. Six at the bar at J. Sheekey along with a glass of champagne. A pretty good value, if I ask me. (I’m not asking you.) No celebrity sightings. Just me, at the bar, by the handicapped loo. Slurping oysters, drinking champagne, and out of there for less than 20 quid. Got to love that.
The Verdict: Word.