Barts Review

Best for: the tweeest party that side of the river.

Great: cocktails, sharing platters.

Have you seen that TV show, Made In Chelsea? It’s about these awful poshos with funny names like Claggie and Blinkie and Proudfoot who all have the same nose and get their maids to bring them Champagne all the time. They’ve all been friends for years and they have dead complicated love lives and go out for drinks and have banter and talk about their complicated love lives. People like that make people like me sick. 

Barts is in Chelsea Cloisters, which is a posh hotel near the King’s Road with marble floors and two old guys sitting on the reception listening to the football on the radio. They do cocktails and it’s supposed to be a bit like a speakeasy. I don’t think it’s going to be my scene. I reckon it’s probably the kind of place where the people from Made In Chelsea would hang out if it was set in real life and they were about to go and do something quirky, like ice skating. I hope it is, because I’ve got my review all worked out: I’m going to write something clever and a bit political about how vapid modern culture is, and how places like this are the thin end of the wedge.

“Places like this are the thin end of the wedge,” I explain to Bea, my +1, as we sit down.

“What do you mean?” asks Bea.

I’m not really sure, so I pretend not to have heard her and try to change the subject.

The menu has a picture on the front designed by that woman who does all the covers for the Ayn Rand’s books (have you read them? They’re a right laugh), and a bunch of quotes in the back by people like Nietszche. I’m about to say something haughty like, “How ironic, darling, that a place that’s stuffed to the gills with Union Jack-upholstered chairs and off-the-shelf eccentrica should celebrate people who were so unapologetic in their championing of the original and the new,” but I’ve never actually read anything by Nietszche, so I say, “It’s a bit like a fancy version of Bourne and Hollingsworth in here, isn’t it?” instead.

I used to love Bourne and Hollingsworth. We went there all the time a couple of years back. It was really twee and a bit contrived – they served cocktails in teacups and had lampshades like my grandma had - but they put on pretty good bands, and when I was hanging out there on a worknight and drinking too much Asahi beer, and me and Denis were having banter with the barman and talking about maybe putting on a night of our own one of these days, it felt like I was part of something kind of special.

You can get cocktails in teapots at Barts. I guess that’s progress. They’re pretty good cocktails as well; I have one called The Latest Word which has Goji liqueur and gin in it and is absolutely smashing; Bea has a Whiskey Sour which she says is really good too.

The sharing platters aren't bad either. And even though it’s not my scene - and the waiters look a bit daft in their braces, and it’s done out dead contrived - once it fills up, the atmosphere’s actually pretty good. There’s a group of boys in rugby shirts and chinos who look like they’ve been friends for years. They’re all drinking Asahi beer and having banter with the barman and talking about their complicated love lives. I watch them for a while and smile to myself.

“Maybe people like that aren’t that different from people like me,” I think. “Maybe they just have better noses.”

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Ben Brill 25 Jan 2012

Barts Description

The swish Chelsea Cloisters hotel in west London is where you’ll find this hidden bar. Just beyond the toilets is an unassuming door that leads to a quirky little speakeasy. Ring the bell and an arty room opens up; home to great music, classy cocktails, yummy food and a chest full of fancy dress costumes to help you get in the mood.

Additional Information

• Group: (Independent/Freehouse)