An unashamedly enormous bar in the middle of suitsville, Drift is one of many Drake & Morgan ventures currently taking up ALL THE SPACE in the Square Mile.
It’s swarming with corporate types every day, especially on Friday when it’s so packed full of T.M. Lewin that levering yourself into the place requires fierce determination… or the use of a whopping great shoehorn.
Situated at the foot of the Heron Tower, Drift has a sort of miniature bar on the ground floor, accompanied by the token sprinkling of tables on tarmac that constitutes a London pub garden.
Upstairs is a vast and most ostentatious space, with walnut and marble bars, and, for some reason, great big teapots. The upstairs also houses Drift’s restaurant, where an extensive menu of suit fuel is served up by waiters who, to their shame, have been forced to dress up as little sailors.
And it was here we were sat for a late night dinner not long ago. A dinner which, I’d say, was alright actually. We all went with steak n’ chips, choosing a selection of sauces. Steaks which were, on the whole, quite good. Not melt-in-your-mouth wonderful or anything like that, (they couldn’t possibly compete with Gaucho) but for the price this is probably as good as it gets in the City.
What let the whole thing down was the service, the entirely absent yet 12.5% worthy service. You see, as we’d arrived late the restaurant was very quiet, with only a handful of tables occupied. Regardless of this fact whenever we wanted anything we found ourselves having to conduct a small amateur dramatic performance in the desperate hope of attracting the attention of one of the little sailors, who seemed entirely put out by our being there, as if ‘twere very selfish and mean of us to have bothered visiting at all. Unusual, it was.
The Verdict: Reasonably priced, decent gastro pub type food. Weirdly huge fish tank. Abysmal service.