Only if you love drama, butter, and the sound of a man breathing heavily while you eat. The food will be legendary. The service will be sharp. And the bill? It will feel like a small surgery. But it’s worth the scar.
Book a table for November. Bring a friend who likes wine. And a waterproof jacket, just in case the river mist meets Ramsay’s spittle. It’s going to be the hottest ticket in town. Autumn, by the river, with the world’s angriest chef. What could go wrong? (Don’t answer that.)
See you there. I’ll be the one hiding my empty wallet inside my napkin. Cheers.
