You need mighty financial chops to dine at Vivat Bacchus. It oversells the South African concept and requires mortgage advice when the bill is presented.
'You can't knock exceptional South African food,' the thinking goes. 'So you won't mind if we charge you £22 for a small plate of biltong, £30 for seven cokes and nearly £6 for five pieces of bread - because it's an experience.'
No it's not.
Alton Towers is an experience. So is a bungee jump. Watching someone wheel a cart of biltong to your table to ask which one you would like - is not. It's called 'service'.
Now I am a grumpy sourpuss and everyone else loved the experience, especially the boys who were intrigued by the idea of eating zebra and ostrich biltong, which was superb.
The croquettes arrived golden and steam-breathing. Break through the shell and there's always that moment of dread with croquettes: will they be stodgy? But these were gossamer-light inside. Mrs Ball's chutney (boy-humour box, ticked) gave them tang, cut through with what I think was meaty mozzarella and pulled pork. The boys inhaled them.
They didn't however eat their overpriced burgers. In fact there was no real accommodation for the kids - no kids menu. The staff said they could make the burgers or chicken simple for the kids, but there wasn't any change on price. £20 for a very basic burger - plus £3.65 for a slice of cheese - and chips felt a bit like phone theft on Oxford Street to a London mayor: unrecognised robbery.
Onto the mains. I shared a wonderful Heritage Braai selection. Now this was good.
Perfectly seared ostrich - deep in rich iron taste, but not quite steak. Bloody sirloin that melted, and barely required a knife. And the revelation was the sweet, glazed brannas and coke pork belly that dissolved on the tongue. The final snap of crackling is always the hardest to achieve, but it rightly felt like a brief bite rather than a 30-minute chew.
Then came the touch that elevated the evening: two beef dripping candles, molten and glossy, for dragging the meat through. This is the sort of detail that separates a good restaurant from one that actually understands what it's doing. This was the experience the table roared about.
On desserts - they stepped up. The peppermint crisp came in portions so large they seemed desperate to shift it. It was chewy but well devoured by the group. £3 for a scoop of very good rum and raisin ice cream was more in-line with the consumer price index than the gold-leaf food guide used elsewhere.
Was the food worth the price? No.
The restaurant's vibe is welcoming and the staff friendly, when you can get their attention. The industrial-chic décor feels like a South African winery, but the chairs were too Ikea basic for the palatial charges.
Stick to the simple drinks like wine, beer or water. Don't order the mocktail. If you could pack Willy Wonka's entire sugar store into one drink, it still wouldn't be as sweet as this. There isn't enough insulin in the world to tackle this nuclear carb bomb.
I gave mine back to the waitress and told her it wasn't good. I still got charged for it.
I couldn't face the cheese room experience. I was full and it looked like more of a cheese cupboard. I don't like it when people hyperbole things beyond the Queensbury rules of marketing. It's a bit like when Google UK used to call its 6th and 7th floor Victoria offices "The GooglePlex." Just above Rentokil on the 5th floor.
Restaurants serve as ambassadors for their country's cuisine. South Africa came up in our group's conversation for many reasons as we explored who had been where and what connections we have - particularly the quality of wine and meat. On this matter, Vivat Bacchus succeeds - just.
For this is a business with an identity crisis. The combination of average service, a half-empty room on Saturday night, and flimsy theatrical 'experiences' masking overpriced food puts it squarely in Angus Steakhouse territory: a tourist attraction.
Yet it has potential, starting with its pricing. If it brought a more inclusive, family experience - as many of Gordon Ramsay's restaurants have - it might find more people would join in. It needs to decide if it's a pureplay good food establishment, which at heart it feels like it should be, or a weaker cultural experience.
Vivat Bacchus needs to pick a lane. There's a better restaurant trying to get out here. Some of the food is good enough to compete with Hawksmoor, but the service suggests Harvester. The £16 lunch deal shows it can do value - so why such a steep evening hike when it's half empty?
The cheese cupboard isn't Narnia. The biltong cart isn't an experience. What they are underselling is good South African cooking. That's the story.
Our group had a great time because we'd enjoy sausages in a field. But the value-to-price ratio was more akin to Rachel Reeves's idea of fairness.
Would we go again? My mate wants to try the cheese. For the A-round investment we'd need to raise to do so, I think we could find better.
- Pricing: 2/5 - £587 for nine people - five grown-ups and four kids. Only one bottle of wine as three didn't drink. Geopolitic-gawp worthy.
- Service: 3/5 - Bit too much hand waving.
- Vibe: 4/5 - Friends liked it.
- Food: 4/5 - excluding mocktail. The food is excellent but spoiled by the experience marketing and insulting prices. If you've got kids, go for the £16 lunch deal.