Hotel Review: Dukes

March 2010

Europe  UK

Hotel Review: Dukes

Back in the 70s I was one of millions who tuned in on Saturday nights to watch Lousia Trotter’s transformation from East End working class skivvy to the proprietor of Bentinck Hotel, the Edwardian London town house hotel of distinction. THE DUCHESS OF DUKE STREET starred the marvellous Gemma Jones and a fictional hotel that was the home away from home of the aristocracy, their urban pied a terre where all was permitted, and discretion and a blind eye guaranteed, along with impeccable service. Though based on the real-life Cavendish Hotel in Jermyn Street, I never expected to stumble across anything that would fit the bill in 21^st century London; until now.   

 

Tucked away in the warren of St James’ is the real-life Bentinck and uncannily named Dukes. A tribute to the eclecticism of Campbell Gray Hotels, it’s hard to believe that Dukes is part of the same group that includes another of my favourite properties, One Aldwych. No two hotels could be more different (see previous review) Dukes is discreet, though not for the same reasons as the fictional Bentinck. It occupies its own courtyard, a turn-of-the-last century red brick building with 90 rooms and suites. In fact, discreet doesn’t come close to capturing its low key mood. Reception is tucked away against a wall, the corridors are hung with 18^th and 19^th century paintings, a polished dark wood staircase disappears upwards, and high backed leather chairs in the foyer where guests hide behind newspapers complete the portrait. All in all, something of the atmosphere of a genteel members’ club.  

 

Down a narrow well-lit corridor is an eggshell blue drawing room where tea is served with subdued pomp, It’s a place where ladies rest their shopping bags, gossiping over delicate sandwiches and natty little pastries.

 

The rooms are beautifully functional in a cosy way. Modernity sidles alongside comfort; contemporary colour schemes play against curtain sashes and period furniture. WiFi is complimentary; there are iPod docking stations and DVD players on request. The space is faultless with the added joy of quality toiletries by REN.

 

In what feels like a basement but isn’t, a light bright dining room also functions as a restaurant. I have to say it’s a little overly bright for me, too much of the mood of breakfast at dinner, not helped by the fact that I was the only diner on this particular Saturday evening in November. There’s a beautifully composed wine list where wines are grouped according to taste – light, fruity, spicy etc. The menu is equally controlled – 3 starters, 3 mains – and very reasonably pitched at £30 for 3 courses. I opted for two, salmon tartare and organic chicken. Both were pleasant though not groundbreaking. I think the atmosphere or lack of it stifled much of my enjoyment; a bit like eating in the dining room of some arid retirement home.

 

The star at Dukes and a destination in its own right is the bar with its cosy, small framed furniture and armchairs you sink into. Upfront it’s deceptively small. Your heart might sink as you enter to see every table occupied. But then there’s the relief when you realise it opens up into a spacious lounge at the back. The small bar in the corner is a hive of unflustered activity. Waiters in cream jackets and black bow ties glide around the room, maintaining a distinctly low key atmos. There’s nothing of the masses here, no post work crowds, just quality where the discerning drinker comes to pay homage to what those in the know call London’s best martini. This is composed tableside on a trolley. Perfect little flutes of sharp flavours that sing and zing.

 

Dukes is a true gem of a place, a lost dimension where yesterday and today seamlessly coexist. It’s as far as you could get from the marble palaces of the great international chains and for that very reason, should be applauded and treasured; a true home away from home.