First, Do No Harm - Bread Street Kitchen by Gordon Ramsay

Bread Street Kitchen promises polish and personality, but six years after its debut, the food still can’t keep pace with its neighbours — or its own name above the door.

I first visited Bread Street Kitchen when it opened in 2021. I didn’t like it then; the food was pricey, forgettable, and when you put your own name above the door, you’re announcing a standard you then have to meet. It didn’t. Fast‑forward to summer 2026 and I’m invited back. Given the competition in the area, all of it excellent, I hoped they’d sharpened their game. Reader, they have not.

The welcome is immaculate. Bright, polite, well‑turned‑out staff who are a credit to the place. Unfortunately, this turns out to be the peak of the evening.

A martini to start is genuinely excellent. I order Cullen Skink Croquettes; Kate has Haggis Bonbons. The menu is a parade of crowd‑pleasers, burgers, fish and chips, and the signature Venison Wellington at £120 for two. The croquettes are fine, and Kate enjoys her bonbons. Hope flickers.

Then comes the main event, or rather, the main disappointment. I orderv Roast Cod with capers and artichokes in a red wine and lemon jus. I an seduced by the Italianate accompaniments and don't pay enough attention to the red wine element. Red wine can work with a robust fish like cod, but only if handled with the delicacy of a surgeon. Instead, to borrow from Taggart, "there’s been a murder". A massacre, in fact. A beautiful piece of fish drowned under a brown tide of jus. The potatoes, capers and artichokes have been mashed into a sort of lumpy, beige concoction. The skin, naturally, has long given up. If you can’t cook an expensive, and increasingly scarce, piece of fish with the attention it deserves, at least do no harm.

Across the table, Kate’s Ribeye arrives with fries and tenderstem broccoli. It is fine. She is happy. The bacon mayo is the only thing with personality.

Dessert continues the theme. Kate’s Sticky Toffee Pudding is perfectly acceptable. My Tiramisu, however, is another gastro crime scene: a vast mound of mascarpone lightly dusted with cocoa, as if someone has whispered “Italy” and called it a day.

We do see a couple tackling the signature Venison Wellington at the next table. It looks good — but at £120 for two, it should probably arrive with a choir.

And here’s the real issue. Bread Street Kitchen sits shoulder‑to‑shoulder with Dishoom, Gaucho, Wahaca, The Spence, Hawksmoor and The Ivy — all of which deliver reliably excellent meals. In that company, you have to bring your A‑game. Six years on, Bread Street Kitchen still hasn’t found it.