Three quarters the way down the King’s Road on the right, Bluebird is a story of success, survival and longevity, making it nothing less than a London landmark if not institution. Originally built in 1923 for the Bluebird Motor Company at a size of 50,000 sq foot, it made claims to be Europe’s largest garage. During the Second World War, it was re-purposed as an ambulance station and then turned into a clothes market. Only when Sir Terence Conran bought the site in the mid 1990s and opened it as his Gastrodome did it come to resemble what it stands today. Gone, though, are the forecourt’s iconic pumps and even its legendary blue speed machine, all replaced by tables and parasols optimistically willing on the British Summer.
Our country’s short-lived heatwave is over so we dine upstairs in the cavernous space defined by red metal girders which hover confidently over the entire room, reminding of Bluebird’s industrial and masculine past. There’s an oval bar on the left as you enter with a corrugated iron bottom and a diaphanous stretch of curtain which casually segregates the more formal dining area from the bar area. Lighting is dusky and moody and a few trees and shrubs decorate darker recesses.
Signature Cocktails honour both the restaurant’s location and its heritage, so include an SW3, a King’s Road, a South Place Gimlet, a Bluebird and, one up on that, a Bluebird Legend. I go for legendary status, which is a Jameson and Cherry Brandy mix. It’s long and cool with a slush puppy aesthetic and a maraschino sweetness. My friend goes for a Brandy Alexander but the bar’s all out of cream so offers up Baileys as a substitute. This dominates so that the Alexander experiences a gamely personality crisis and could well be a White Russian. Still, no-one’s complaining, least of all my friend.
Part of me regrets not ordering the slightly more unusual Marmite Tart, but I’m a sucker for crab, dressed or otherwise. Bluebird dresses its with cucumber and apple chunks and a generous helping of salmon roe. Striations of pure white crab meat don’t disappoint, and the dollop of super smooth but slightly spicy brown crab to the side is a welcome bonus. The only disappointment, really, is my friend decides to eat half of it but this means I share half of her Tuna Tartare. The size of a small burger, this is another generous helping and described by my friend as a pescatarian’s dream. The tuna has a subtle tang and is infused with tomatoes and capers or peppercorns for extra crunch.
Alex, our waiter cum sommelier, recommends a bottle of Frisinō, Legàmi Primitivo which is juicy and fruity and has cherry and plum notes. Perfect, therefore, for the 28oz Bone-in Rib Steak for two. Meat is super blush and bloody and tender and divided into seven mini-steaks. Even for two it’s a lot but it’s pretty perfect so we persevere. Unaware it’s served in a rich bone marrow gravy, we also order Béarnaise and Grain Mustard sauces for what turns out to be a very saucy thirty minutes. Alex also persuades us we need both the Fries and the Truffled Mashed Potato and he’s not wrong. The fries are crispy and the potato creamy, both to perfection. Our spinach comes with bacon bits, a smattering of parmesan and, most unexpectedly. a semi-raw egg of which the orange yolk happily contrasts the vegetable’s green.
The Luxury Editor doesn’t spend too much time lavishing restrooms with attention but the ones at Bluebird are an exception and could win an award for the capital’s most dramatic toilets should such exist. Not so much for the design, of which there’s nothing wrong, but the audio re-playing of the moment Donald Campbell broke the world land speed record in the, yes, you got it, the Bluebird. It was July 17th 1964 on the salt flats of South Australia’s Lake Eyre when he reached a heady 403.10 miles per hour. The commentator’s breathless commentary is a great snippet of history replayed on a very short loop and one that contextualises the restaurant’s identity.
Bluebird’s recently re-imagined menus have been created by executive head chef Owen Sullivan as guided by Evolv Collection’s Miller Prada. Showcasing nods to British classics whilst introducing contemporary twists, the dessert menu continues this theme. Spiced Apple Crumble, Poached Rhubarb Crème Brûlée, White Chocolate & Winter Berry Cheesecake all vie for attention but nothing can beat a Sticky Toffee Pudding when it comes to old school British cuisine. Here, it’s brownie is topped with vanilla ice cream and surrounded by a plethoral salted toffee and bourbon sauce; it’s a gooey melange which has a burnt caramel charm. More theatrical is the Bluebird Golden Egg presented as a golden sphere on chocolate crumble. On it, Alex pours a gaudy raspberry sauce which causes the golden sphere to disintegrate in front of our eyes. Not quite as dramatic as Bluebird’s legacy but a quirky and fun way to end an enjoyable evening.
