Eating in a department store is unlikely if you don’t happen to be shopping there. I mean, why would you just head for a BIG shop simply to eat? It’s like trying to shop in a restaurant… like 202 (Westbourne Grove, W11) … it somehow just doesn’t work. But, on the other hand, so many of London’s department stores have really impressive eateries from tea at Fortnum and Mason to one of the city’s most impressive cocktail menus at 5th Floor Harvey Nichols. And, as such, I felt that Harrods’ recently opened Salad Kitchen should NOT be overlooked. A table for two was booked for last Friday before I speed dialed First Love.
I’ve written about First Love before. He was my best friend and first love when I was 16. And 17 I think too. And now the only passion we share is for food, music and the occasional party (rarely together – more stories to tell). Food is his biggest passion which means he can hardly refuse a review meal. It involves skipping out of his advertising office (think Mad Men) and slopping off to what we call ‘Rods’ (Harrods).
On the 4th floor, of what is arguably the most impressive store in town, lies a brand new department called Fashion Lab. Harrods’ fashion has always been in a league of its own (according to our Queen of Shops, Mary Portas) and, for all those hungry enough to manage more than a lettuce leaf, there is now a fitting salad emporium slap bang in the middle of this HIGH fashion.
The word salad implies dull, boring, virtuous – a lunch for slimmers. Fear not reader, the menu at The Salad Kitchen is innovative, delicious and a perfect pit stop.
First Love and I tucked into some baba ghanoush and yellowfin tuna tartare with avocado and a kicking wasabi sauce to match while we perused the warm/cold/grilled salads on offer.
Beetroot and purple broccoli are among my favourite veg so I plumped for Harrods’ version topped with as-rare-as-I-love welsh lamb loin.
First Love made a beeline for the aubergine and spinach option with harissa dressing and some juicy tiger prawns.
Then we caught up on that thing we call LIFE.
Dessert isn’t for Harrods’ fashion shoppers really. We had feasted like troopers but now were pushing it. However, it felt rude not to at least make an effort with our trio of flourless chocolate or nibble on some fruit skewers.
And then I did somehow find a little space for a French Martini.