Brash Brunch at ‘Clubstaurant’ Bagatelle
I can’t bear all those infuriating made-up words, like mumpreneur or Brangelina. They’re so cheesy they make my toenails itch and I thought I’d heard them all, but Clubstaurant is a new one on me.
On the face of it, this is an utterly ridiculous concept.
Who, in their right mind, would want to be enjoying a chilled – possibly slightly hungover – Saturday afternoon brunch only to have it suddenly disrupted by hordes of rowdy club types, flashing lights and ear-splitting tunes? It makes absolutely zero sense, and yet somehow it works.
Bagatelle, in the heart of super swanky Mayfair, pulls it off thanks to the fact that it looks like a nightclub even in the harsh light of day – with a thick velvet rope and red carpet rolled out even in the morning.
Even still, the nightclub element came as quite a shock to the system as we were lured into a fairly standard dining experience at first. Yes, the music was louder than the usual brunch spots around town, and the menu was rather high end, with baskets of yummy croissants, excellent omelettes and so on.
But one minute you’re tucking into eggs benedict and a healing smoothie full of the good things you pray will erase your entire memory of the embarrassment of the night before, and five seconds later the waiters are whooping and whistling as they gyrate across the floor holding magnums of champagne aloft – even though it is still broad daylight.
The deep blood-red walls add an air of the boudoir, while the DJ blasting out house music and the flashing chandeliers (not to mention the pyrotechnics) all conspired to convince my poor addled brain that it must surely be 4am when in fact it was still barely lunchtime.
Bagatelle is a New York import, a city famed for its wild and excessive brunch vibes, and has an outpost in St Tropez where this kind of crazy would fit right in.
It’s loud, it’s brash, it’s eye wateringly expensive but it’s also F.U.N. in very big, very bright letters so if you’re dodging Dry January or Veganuary or any of those other irritating made up words, get down there and blag your way beyond the red rope.
