Early(ish) one Saturday morning myself, sister (aka Bobby D, Sammy, Sam) and gal pal Helen (aka lenny or hells) met at Smiths of Smithfield’s to start what would turn out to be a very champagne enfused brunch.
I arrived, shock horror, early (I really don’t know how?!) and after popping us on the list for a table and a rather awkward chat with another male customer settled on the comfy leather sofa with my jus de pomme and new read (self improvement book, Rich Dad, Poor Dad 2) and waited for the girls to arrive.
The place is busy and vibrant, with some great tunes on in the background to get you pumped up for the day…whilst still be able to hold a conversation with your party. The woman in charge of seating (Maitre D’ ???) kept an eye on me whilst not rushing me for my table. Once Sammy and Lenny had arrived she approached us to let me know our table was ready, addressing me by name like I was an old regular…nice touch.
Upstairs I am told there is an exquisite restaurant on wooden decking with views over the city something to be sampled at a later date.
I would suggest booking if it is a large party of you but not essential!