This piece feels like it's been a few years in the making. Joe Allen is one of the closest restaurant links to family history and current-day friendships I have. My brother celebrated many birthdays here in younger days, and more recently it has been used as a quite brilliant Christmas party venue for a group of football-playing friends. I have eaten here a lot, and I have yet to get bored of it.
All gushing aside, Joe Allen is a priceless piece of gaudy, glorious theatreland heritage. Covent Garden's fruitier side couldn't wish for a more authentic representation of its charm. It's a franchise based principally in New York, with outposts in London, Paris and Miami. But don't even think about calling it a chain. Any place that can import its own brand of American wholesomeness to London and appear to become one with its surroundings is a perfect juxtaposition if you ask me.
On the Sunday night in question, some of us had met up at a wine bar in Charing Cross (alarm bells). It had been planned that we would eat dinner there (red alert). However, we were informed that we'd missed the last serving of food, even though it was only about 7pm. (Glory be!) Suddenly, a group of around ten people needed somewhere else to eat – this was my moment! I leapt into the breach and suggested Joe Allen, given that it was ten minutes' walk away and you could get a killer burger for a tenner there.
The burger is not on the Joe Allen menu. But ask and ye shall receive. And what a burger it is too (left). Grilled properly, properly rare, served with pickles, cheese, bacon (if you want it) and onion, this is something that has to be tasted to be believed. You can get great English and European burgers if you look hard enough, but I've not tasted as good an American burger as this since I was in New York. Chips on the side are skin-on, salty and perfect.
Apart from that burger, the menu does change a bit. Printed new every day on a fresh simple paper booklet, you have two madly listed sides of paper to look through before you make your decisions on what to eat. I will break down what I recommend based on my experiences:
- Burger (see above)
- Chicken wings with blue cheese sauce and carrot: a biffing, biting starter
- Egg(s) Benedict: glorious if it's done right, and it usually is here
- Duck: a huge hit two Christmases ago, served as two cuts with some excellent potato
- Pheasant: served with game chips and not to be missed
- Cheesecake: another fixture. Creamy, baseless and superbly mild
- Chocolate cake: whichever variation they've got on, it most probably won't disappoint
So, that's my piece on what you should eat here. Now, the second reason I love the place is the amazing and completely not cheesy image. The place is underground (totally cool) and is floor-to ceiling plastered with genuine local artefacts: that is to say there are tonnes of promotional theatre posters stretching back generations all over the place. It's just perfect. You feel as if you could be in the 1930s at times – it's almost visually black and white.
So, as you can see I love the place and have yet to eat a bad meal there in around ten visits. I cannot think of a better place to get a group together and enjoy the hustle and bustle of a fine eatery in WC2. But, as ever, things aren't perfect. They do overcharge in certain places. So much so that the only great-value dish on the menu (and it's not even on the menu) is the burger. There are times I've ordered and been a touch underwhelmed at the price superseding the quality of my food. Parts of the menu are uninspired and limited. It's hard to get away from the feeling that you've somehow been drawn in by a perfectly orchestrated sting when the final bill comes.
But I'm nit-picking. Even though this piece started as a review, it's really a chance to express my deep-rooted respect and fondness for somewhere that I will continue to visit for quite some time. If you've ever been sat at a TGI Fridays with your head in your hands wishing for the real version, this is it. Get five friends together, book a table and enjoy yourself. You deserve it. We all do.
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