Wiltons restaurant
Where Time-Traveling Butlers Might Serve Your Soup
If Wiltons restaurant were a person, it’d be that eccentric great-aunt who insists on serving tea with a monocle and a pet peacock. Established in 1742 (yes, before the invention of *sliced bread*), this London icon is less of a dining spot and more of a time capsule with napkins. The walls whisper tales of aristocrats, spies, and possibly a ghost or two who still argue over the wine list. Come for the oysters, stay for the lingering suspicion that your chair might be older than your country.
The Menu: Fancy Food, Zero Pretentiousness (Mostly)
Wiltons’ menu reads like a Shakespearean play—dramatic, classic, and occasionally featuring a stag in velvet trousers (translation: venison). Highlights include:
- Oysters so fresh they might still be gossiping about the sea.
- Beef Wellington that’s basically a meaty Fabergé egg.
- Sticky toffee pudding that’ll make you question all other desserts. “Et tu, Brûlée?”
Pro tip: If the Dover sole winks at you, it’s probably the champagne talking.
Ambiance: Like Dining Inside a Wes Anderson Daydream
Picture this: mahogany panels, crisp white tablecloths, and waiters who glide like they’re on hidden hoverboards. The vibe is ”Victorian library had a lovechild with a jazz lounge.” Even the air smells rich—hints of truffle, nostalgia, and a faint whiff of ”should I be wearing a cravat?” It’s the only place where a chandelier might judge your posture, but in a *supportive* way.
Staff: The Real MVPs (Mostly Very Polite Sorcerers)
The team at Wiltons operates with the precision of a Swiss watch and the charm of a Dickens character who definitely knows a secret. Need a fork? It materializes. Drop a napkin? It’s replaced before gravity finishes its job. Rumor has it the sommelier can age wine just by staring at it. Proceed with caution if they offer you “the usual”—you’ve never been here before, but they might know something you don’t.