As our tube approached Green Park, we couldn't help but feel nervous. The little information available online about Punk Royale would force the most tame of imaginations to run wild. We read about the waiters spooning "mysterious slop" into mouths, the music blaring from speakers, and of course, the shot of straight vodka upon arrival. It all sounded very Berghain. However, we're in Mayfair, not Berlin, and while this club isn't for the faint-hearted, if you go with an open mind, you might never want the night to end.
The night began the way it should end, with a shot of vodka. A far cry from the sweet taste of a Hugo Spritz, but arguably more effective at igniting the appetite. It was a chaser to the mountainous lump of caviar we were directed to slurp, which was surprisingly subtle in taste despite the sheer size of it. A nod to the chaos that was about to ensue, it was a fun way to start the meal and meet the talent behind the bizarre culinary journey we were about to embark on. We were led to our table at 6pm sharp along with everyone else in the room- it's a shared experience. This, along with the waiting staff who dip in and out of the kitchen like friends hosting a dinner-party, made us feel at ease. A refreshing break from the stuffy environment of tasting menus.
With our phones locked away in boxes (yes, they actually do this) and a generous beverage with every course, recalling each individual meal is somewhat of a challenge. However, despite the lack of photographic evidence, there were a few that truly stood-out.
The first was the shellfish. A mignonette or zest of lemon simply wouldn't do at Punk Royale. Instead, they pair their oysters with frozen apple and green curry. A surprisingly delightful mixture of flavours, one that leaves a lasting impression. The apple was the most prominent- fresh, sweet, and leaving us craving more. Like most of the courses, the dish was cleared in a matter of moments. The taste however, lingered right until our next bite: a mystery spoonful of rich, zesty flavours, shovelled into our mouths by our kind waiter. We did some investigative work afterwards to uncover that it was actually a spoonful of lobster, cep mushroom & lemon kosho. Admittedly, we couldn't identify the lobster amongst it all, but it was certainly tasty, that's for sure.
The dishes that followed ranged from a singular, spicy sugar snap to smooth foie gras served on brioche. Some were served in tupperware, some in a syringe. Most were to be eaten with the hands, and not one could have been predicted. And that is what encapsulates an experience at Punk Royale: The lack of photographic evidence, the Christmas songs playing in September, the rubber ducks served alongside exquisite pork belly- it is all so unpredictable. A place where haute cuisine has no dress code, it's cheeky, daring, and frivolous. It's the marmite of fine-dining, and we're a fan.
