Sloane danger

Lisa Hilton eats at an obvious, expensive and tasteless Chelsea restaurant she knew she was going to hate

IN THE 1950S, DEBORAH, Duchess of Devonshire accompanied her daughter on a culturally improving visit to Paris. As recounted in a letter by Deborah’s sister, Nancy Mitford, the ladies got as far along their itinerary as Notre Dame when the Duchess announced, “Now darling, you’ve seen the outside, so you can imagine the inside. Let’s go to Dior.” Sometimes, just sometimes, a restaurant comes along which inspires the same confidence. The first time I walked past Azzurra, just by the Peter Jones end of the bit of Sloane Street that is perpetually being dug up, I knew precisely how preposterously awful it was going to be. From the location (the soulless no-man’s land between SWs 1 and 3) to the size (vast) to the gilded tangle of fishing nets depending…

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The Critic (Digital) - 1 Issue, April 2024

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