Have you ever wondered where actors go when they are “resting”? I think a fair few of them end up waiting tables at the Sessions Arta Club. It rather felt like someone had backed a truck up at the major West London private schools, loaded a bunch of young men on the back (2 metres tall? Check! Foppish? Check! Condescending? Check Check!), and then dumped them slightly bemused on the pavement in East London, armed only with a rakish wit and a feeling that they should be one of the served, rather than be the servers.

I have been looking forward to coming here for a long time. I remember the buzz when it opened back in 2021, and it is still hard to get a table. Booking only opens a month in advance, so a diary entry, an early morning and a highly caffeinated beverage is required to get a decent table time. It is not a cheap eat by any means, but it was our wedding anniversary, and we felt the occasion justified the spend.

We were almost thwarted at the first hurdle, which was finding the entrance. It is located in the old Sessions Court building near Farringdon station, and Google Maps dumped us in roughly the right place. However, what you think is the entrance, isn’t. And the people who own the hotel that is at that entrance are clearly pissed off with people coming into the wrong place, as there is an emphatic message taped to the door saying the restaurant is round the side of the building: Fortunately we picked the right side (the Clerkenwell Green side, look for the servants’ entrance).

You enter through what feels like the stage door of a theatre, into a somewhat cramped reception area (the welcome was, I have to say, charming), and are sent up to the 4th floor by lift. And the effect is pretty stunning. The decor is less shabby, more dilapidated, chic, but it really works, certainly with most of the lights switched off, and we loved the DJ, pumping in an undercurrent of cool tunes (because we are hip to the young thing)

We were seated in a nice table for 2 in the gallery, and apart from the shrieking group of 20 somethings on the next table who seemed to be still in place 6 hours later from a Xmas lunch, it was a nice buzzy atmosphere, albeit slightly too dark to look at the actual menu.

Yet again, a restaurant tries to palm me off with a non-classic cocktail, but fortunately, the real deal was available, and it was a very pleasant simulacrum of a good Negroni, not perfect (believe it or not, Cote held that accolade for a while), but not bad.

Food-wise, one of the things that is almost becoming a truism in London restaurants, is don’t order the “large plates”. Get a selection of what we used to call starters, and stick with that (advice I wish I had taken).

We commenced (because as indicated above, starting is not longer a thing) with the Jerusalem Artichoke, the Duck Rillette and the Fig and Ricotta, having had some olives and salami as a nibble.

The Duck was superb – What an interesting idea pairing them with Muscat grapes, just on the turn, and some amazing “crackers” (really, I don’t know what the right word is: They were more like savoury Florentines). The menu didn’t indicate starch with this dish, otherwise we would not have ordered the £5 bread. But it was the absolute high point of the evening, and proved that someone in the kitchen could cook. Mrs Nigel is not that fond of Jerusalem Artichoke, but I am a big fan, especially when presented like this. A real 10/10. The Figs? Hard to make exciting, and they didn’t. Overall, though, at this point the food felt like good value.

If you just heard a loud thud, sadly it was the sound of the other shoe dropping.

We had the Beef together with the Partridge pasta to follow. Bear in mind these were 2 to 3 x the cost of the starters. I am going to start carrying a tape measure with me, as the photos below make these look like adult portions: I honestly think we mistakenly ordered off the kids menu, although the bill did not reflect that.

The Beef was a) only two slices from a roast, and b) totally inedible, tough and stringy. It was Berni Inn, early 80s, just without the unlimited portions. And the dubiously small serving of posh ravioli was just a bit meh, and the sauce was just water, and so hard to eat, and not worth it when you did. So bad was the beef that I was allowed to send it back, a practice that I have almost totally stopped since starting to bitch about food in print. It should never have made it out of the kitchen (and it did not make it onto the bill), so I am not going to waste another electron on it…

We felt a little dissatisfied (and a lot hungry) at this point, so decided to stick around and have some pudding. Cheese was available, as was creme caramel, so we decided on them. Clearly there was some sort of mix up in the kitchen, as I was served a large poppadom, an entire poached pear, and two tiny pieces of what could have been tofu for my £14, instead of the cheese plate. I am not big on crackers and chutney with cheese, and just prefer large lumps of tasty fat, but I accept some people like to hide the taste of the cheese with other fripperies. No need to hide the taste here, as there was has none (although it could be there were not enough cheese atoms on the plate to stimulate a human taste bud). But I did enjoy the poached pear at least, even though it was not the pudding I expected.

Mrs Nigel was happy with hers, although she is still looking for the other two: The creme caramel felt like it was part of a flight of micro-desserts, the remainder of which which stayed stubbornly in the kitchen.

My final micro-portion complaint relates to the glass of Port I ordered (for £14! It really was a special occasion). Usually (and I have checked on this extensively), it is served in 75ml portions. I reckon mine was about 40ml, maybe less. I’m going to show you a photo of it below, and again the absence of a tape measure is a real hindrance, but I am convinced I recognise the glass from a Barbie Dream House my daughter used to own.

Overall, it was fine. The actual fabric of the restaurant is great, and pretty intimate if you don’t go there at Xmas time (which is a problem if you got married in mid-December). Service is occasionally attentive, but really somewhat grudging: We were older than most of the diners, and probably reminded the waiting staff of their parents. Small plates are mostly really good, but the mains and puddings are disappointing, and make up the bulk of the cost of the meal. We had a pretty good Muscadet at a 3x markup (which is not unreasonable), but the wine list is light at the cheaper end.

So I am pleased I went, but I won’t be going back. It was an experience, but I’ve had much better food at a much better price served by much more attentive staff in a lot of other places.

Conclusion

Overall Rating: 3.5/5

• Food: 3/5
• Drinks: 4/5
• Ambience: 4.5/5
• Service: 3/5
• Value for money: 3/5
• Would I go back: Not if I am paying, no, and probably not even if I am not paying

Sessions Arts Club: https://sessionsartsclub.com/