This is not a restaurant. This is a dollhouse.
18 seats, butter-colored walls, and drama.
Good morning everyone. I’m reading through yesterday’s comment section, and I think it’s a great conversation for product managers and people who write about shopping. I’m going to Las Vegas next weekend, so if you guys have any suggestions or plugs… I’ll take them.
In today’s letter, we have:
- ’s latest semi-anonymous restaurant review. If you’re new here, Feed Me has three columnists: who writes Expense Account, who writes Stay Tuned, and Anonymous Transit Expert who writes Stand Clear. Each of their columns run monthly.
Good news for all-white male boards looking to work with Goldman Sachs.
A prompt to discuss creative direction, inspired by two recent campaigns from Unwell and Sweetgreen.
Expense Account is a series on Feed Me, written by semi-anonymous restaurant critic JLee. In this column, you’ll be reading about Business Guy Restaurants — the bistros, sushi spots and lounges that are best rationalized with the involvement of a corporate card. You can read his review of “a restaurant with personality disorder,” Aqua, here.
I’m embarrassed to admit that I bought a pair of pants to eat at the Yellow Bittern. I arrived in London and realized that for the first time, my last minute frantic packing had not worked out. I hadn’t packed a single pair of pants (what a thing to forget). Of course I wore pants on the plane, but a hectic pair of Supreme sweatpants, tattered with a few stains, not really the kind of pants you wear to meet your maker.
For the last three months, a storm has been brewing in London. The Yellow Bittern opened in October, and quickly became the most controversial restaurant in the city, and now the world (there really aren’t so many “controversial” restaurants these days). I will try my best to recap, and for those of you who are interested in a pregame, I highly recommend Jonathan Nunn’s review for Vittles Magazine.
“It’s fascinating to watch two people play house. They build their own little utopia with fresh flowers and plenty of blind spots. All of their kinks are on full display, we do not shame in this house.”
The Yellow Bittern is an Irish “marxist” restaurant, and sometimes book store, named after an 18th century Gaelic poem. It’s a little restaurant, with only 18 seats. The walls are butter-colored. It is open Monday through Friday, only for lunch. There are two seatings a day – one at noon, and one at 2pm. The restaurant is cash only. The owners of The Bittern are Hugh Corcoran, Oisin Davies, and Lady Frances Armstrong-Jones. Hugh was formerly the chef at Delicatessen Cave in Paris (I never dined there, but I heard good things). Lady Frances Armstrong is the editor and publisher of Luncheon Magazine, her father was married to Princess Margaret (Queen Elizabeth’s sister, for us Americans). Oisin Davies is the son of a well-known Irish actress.
They wear vests at The Yellow Bittern. I don't know if it is their official uniform, or if they have even discussed the matter, but they seem to always be wearing vests. I do not own a vest. We’ll call it a “Vestaurant”. (🙄)
The controversy began before the restaurant even opened. Hugh loves to stir a pot, of stew, or otherwise. He hates Sally Rooney, because she is neither Beckett nor Joyce. He hates music in restaurants, he prefers his record player at home (which vinyl edition of Brat do you reckon he owns?). He seems to have a particular obsession with class. His idea for The Bittern is that it’s a restaurant for everyone, the working class (the working class with plenty of time and money for rich boozy lunches) is invited, but he acknowledges that Deliveroo drivers (“the new lowest rank of the proletariat”) probably can’t afford to eat there. In his opinion, health culture is fascism. According to Corcoran: “The most important thing is [that] you have a load of interesting people in the room. I find restaurants very uninteresting if they’re full of uninteresting people, even if they’ve got good food and wine.” For Interview Magazine, he is fresh faced wearing a suit and tie, wire rim glasses. He looks like a young Jack Black.
 | A guest post by
|