Lucky Cat at 22 Bishopsgate by Gordon Ramsay review and star rating: ★★★
Going to Gordon Ramsay’s newest restaurant is palm sweat-inducing stuff. From its sky-high vantage point, one can look down at the Walkie Talkie, which, despite being famed for its views, looks puny.
Lucky Cat at 22 Bishopsgate, on the 60th floor of the titular building, is the tallest restaurant and bar in Europe. It’s genuinely unnerving sitting in the window, especially if, like me, you’re a bit of a scaredy cat. The restaurant follows the rule that all skyscraper restaurants must masquerade as clubs, complete with thumping dance music and low lighting.
Serving Asian food, much like the Mayfair original, Lucky Cat is all sumptuous dark stone and polished bamboo; it looks a bit like it was designed in the mid-1990s and, to be fair, kitsch is having a moment, even if the designers didn’t know. You won’t see what you’re eating, or the menu, but that isn’t really the goal when you’re dining in a skyscraper.
The private dining room at Lucky Cat Bishopsgate by Gordon Ramsay
Like Sushisamba and the beleaguered City Social – which reminded me of a uni night out at Vodka Revs when I went recently – restaurateurs slicing steak 200 metres skyward seem to have collectively agreed that the dining experience must replicate the feeling of a piss-up in a regional night club. In the hilariously dour press shots, like the one at the top of this article, Ramsay looks like one of the bouncers. I can’t imagine the diners at Lucky Cat cutting shapes to the house music being played here, but it’s probably the closest many of them have come to feeling cool since Princess Diana died.
The other trope of skyhigh restaurants is bad food. I refused to write about Duck & Waffle the last time I went because the idea of it made me terribly sad, and I think it was probably right that City Social just lost its Michelin Star. But how about Lucky Cat? Well, it’s hit and miss. My guest and I went for the Signature tasting menu, which makes culinary leaps through Asia, from sushi to dumplings, steak to fish.
My main bugbear is the scourge of the obligatory 125ml wine pourings. Barely more liquid than two double shots served in a huge glass
With as many waiters wafting around trying to be helpful as there are dishes on the extensive menu, the food came thick and fast. Sushi arrives in a beautifully presented ice tray, served chilled rather than warm (as it is found in Japan) in order, presumably, to pander to Western tastes. The fish is served in great big chunks and tastes superb; it was reassuring to hear Chilean sea bass was off the menu because chef wasn’t happy with the quality the night I went in. Instead we get grilled miso salmon, sweetened with burned orange; it works. Other experiments do not: scallop with sweetcorn is a jarring exercise in excess.
Kimchi fried rice with shredded nori and slow cooked egg had a lovely warmth and was the perfectly messy carb accompaniment to fish or meat; I’d recommend the rib eye with Thai chimichurri for a twist on the classic City Boy steak dinner. The famous ‘gfc’ – Gordon’s fried chicken – with hot Korean miso would be high on my list of perfect drunk 3am foods, but, again, it’s a bit sweet.
For a speedy lunch, either here or at the Mayfair venue that opened in 2019, get the padron peppers with one of the tastiest basil dipping sauces I’ve tried, whipped into a delicious mousse. Follow with any of the sushi, a rice bowl and a slab of the well-cooked meat. Service is attentive and cocktails sharply made; I tried a very good nori martini finished off at the table with a dash of soy sauce.
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Of the drinks, my main bugbear is the scourge of the obligatory 125ml wine pourings. Barely more liquid than two double shots served in a huge glass, people who don’t work in hospitality might not think to question the size of the serving, and the silent trend of restaurants shifting towards the small serve rather than the medium (175ml) ultimately feels like another way the capital is cashing in. I asked for two 125ml pours to go into one glass to make an acceptable amount of wine – I got a polite smile but ultimately a rejection: a server came back silently with another 125ml measure. Bah, humbug. This isn’t exclusively a Lucky Cat/Gordon Ramsay problem, more a London-wide gripe.
The views at Lucky Cat Bishopsgate are great, so high it’s almost like you’re looking out of a plane window. As for Ramsay, he continues to be a chameleon, managing properly impressive Michelin starred restaurants while simultaneously hosting trashy US TV shows where he shouts at people. I’ve never quite understood how his brand works cohesively. As for Lucky Cat, this isn’t rewriting the rules of London sky-high dining, more bolstering its tired cliches.
The menu, like so many other high-end Asian outlets appealing to Westerners, is often too sweet. But those cliches are fun to sink into now and again. Like when the parents are in town. Go then. But only then.
Lucky Cat by Gordon Ramsay