180 St John Street
London EC1V 4JY
Tel: 0871 332 2894
Date of Last Visit: Monday, May 16th
The Victims: Bevin, Joe, Lee
The Damage: Unknown, exactly, but assumed to be in the 30 GBP-a-head-range.
Our office might be moving, so I went on a long walk on Saturday to see where and how far it might be from where I live today. It’s far. I’m moving. But in the process of walking, I found The Well, right down the street from The Peasant, which I’ve been to. And it (The Well) was very full and lively for a Saturday afternoon.
So I told Bevin about it and it became Monday night’s destination. I liked the vibe, but it smelled a little urine-y. Note to staff: change your cleaning supplies and/or find some nice smelly candles. Service was friendly, but spacey. We ordered our wine, but it took ages and ages and ages to order anything else.
At this point, I’d like to give a shot out to Josh from The Evening Standard for actually being the first journo to e-mail me and ask for my commentary on the London restaurant scene. This is why I like The Well–it’s not a scene. Or well, on a Monday it didn’t seem to be a scene. There were two people making out at the table next to us, a couple of work parties/friends getting together, and us. Not overly crowded, and not overly empty. The perfect amount of people.
I had the cassoulet as an appetizer. I love cassoulet. Bevin and Lee split the Pint of Prawns, which looked rather scary. You know I don’t like working for my food. (Is that one of my rules? It should be.) I ordered the halibut as my main, Joe got the sausages & mash, Bevin had the goat cheese as a starter, and Lee had the chicken.
Successful entrees all around. Nothing overly pretentious. Just good, solid food and friendly service. For dessert, Lee ordered a slice of Banofee? pie? It was delicious. I’m a convert. But otherwise, we gastro’d and were gone. Good stuff.
The Verdict: Your mom and dad are in town and you want something nice but not too stuffy. This is a good option. There were some complaints about the tables and chairs, however. Hard to squeeze into the tables. Too old fashioned. Or my thighs are too big.
