Strange mix of elk and Abba
Garbo's is one of those curious anomalies London seems to nurture here and there: a slightly nondescript looking restaurant that, despite remaining unchanged in décor and menu for ages, seems to do decent business year in, year out.
Garbo's lifeblood is clearly the nearby Swedish Embassy - there seems little other reason for its existence in a London full of dazzling design and haute cuisine. It's positively homely - all creamy curtainy swags, tablecloths, snaps of famous Swedes and an Abba soundtrack.
A giant elk's head glowers at you as you eat; since we ordered elk, this made us feel not a little uncomfortable. The menu features dishes that would seem familiar to habitués of Ikea's in-store restaurant: meatballs and lingonberries, for instance.
Apart from Janssons Temptation, a traditional dish that looked unappealing - shards of potato laced with cream and anchovies - but tasted good, the food's not great. A giant salad of herring, sour cream and apples lost what attraction it possessed half way through.
The elk came with chanterelles in a stew that tasted rather as though a hospital chef had microwaved the living daylights out of it; meatballs with lingonberries were just that.
A divine rice pudding almost saved the day.
Several aquavits had encouraged fellow diners to croon what we supposed were melancholy Scandinavian drinking songs. Or maybe they were just moaning about their dinner.
Garbo's
Crawford Street, London, W1H 1JW
