Oscar Wilde once said, “Be yourself, because everyone else is already taken.” That statement can be attributed to the aptly named Dorian in Notting Hill, a restaurant whose name is taken from Wilde’s historical novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray, yet unlike the book, this gastronomical gem is anything but vain.
Is the food sensational? Absolutely. But we’ll get to that in a second. One of the first things that sets this restaurant apart, and what is perhaps the catalyst for it being favoured by some of London’s biggest A-listers including David Beckham, is that the owner, Chris D’Sylva, has introduced his own system of rating: reviewing the customers. One is reminded of Marco Pierre White‘s early days where, if a customer complained, he would storm out of the kitchen and kick them out. Dorian is not nearly as aggressive, however, as rumour has it that if you’re a snide customer who treats the staff unfairly, you may (rightfully) not be allowed back. And if you’re an influencer begging for free stuff in exchange for some hashtags…well, take a peek below.
Seriously though, for this reason alone, I love you, Dorian.
But now, let’s get to Dorian itself. The mastermind behind this secluded fortress of flavours is none other than 26-year-old culinary wizard Max Coen. Having just recently won his first Michelin star, the wunderkind has perfected the Basque-inspired menu, delivering arguably the best steak I’ve ever had in my entire life. Many a restaurant review has said, “The main course is never as exciting as the starters,” and although that can often be the case, Coen didn’t get that memo.
The interior, layout, exposed kitchen, and tightly packed tables feels like stepping foot inside an Edward Hopper painting (minus the depression) mixed with the images I’ve seen from Spago on Sunset Blvd back in the 1980s. There is no garish glitz, no tawdry decorations added strictly for the benefit of your Instagram feed, just simplicity in its purest, most aesthetically pleasing form – a sobering breath of fresh air in today’s day and age.
There’s an indescribable feeling one gets when stepping foot into a place that is, for lack of a better word, cool. Much like seeing a photo of James Dean, you can’t entirely put into words what it is that makes this noun so cool, but something about it gives you a silent nod that you’ve found yourself in a place that salutes the mantra IYKYK (if you know, you know).
Surrounded by the relatively quiet, residential streets of north Notting Hill, Dorian sits like a lighthouse, guiding your taste buds to undiscovered wonders. It’s notoriously hard to get a table, but as previously mentioned, that just makes it all the more cool (but seriously though, book ahead of time so you don’t get disappointed over their lack of availability).
Try to catch a peek at one of the many tattooed chefs throwing raw steaks into the scorching flames as you wait for your appetizers, and if you happen to be seated next to some A-lister, don’t make it weird. And if you see Max Coen perusing the restaurant, allow your excitement to overwhelm you because now you are in the presence of greatness.
