A French restaurant Glastonbury would be proud to host: Café Lapérouse reviewed

I am working my way around the restaurants of the Old War Office (OWO), now an acronym and Raffles hotel on Whitehall, because the swiftness with which the great institutions of the state have become leisure opportunities for the wrongfully rich is dark, mesmerising and, if you don’t mind too much anarchy, funny. I have reviewed the cold, painted Saison, and the lively Italian Paper Moon, which a kind reader wrote to say he loved and which I do not expect to survive. It is too joyful and well-priced for the wrongfully rich and their internal landscape of nude cashmere and paranoia. It squeaked through.

The transience of the exterior is not mirrored within. The opposite is true

Here, now, is Café Lapérouse in the courtyard. If there were more Mercedes-Benz E-Class saloons in this courtyard it would be a carpark, but it isn’t there yet. It’s pre-carpark.

I wouldn’t call Café Lapérouse a good restaurant – not quite – but it is a fascinating one, and that must do for now.