Cosy Club Bristol has undergone a significant revamp, inspired by iconic 20th-century style: bespoke fabrics by Anna Hayman, artwork by Isobel Harvey, bespoke lighting, mirrored ceilings and a newly-zoned layout, all designed to create “a blend of nostalgic glamour and subtle cinematic flair”. Louis Hessey-Antell headed over to check the changes out…
**Please note: Cosy Club Bristol invited Breaks and Bites in, and paid for our food and drink. This in no way impacted our opinion. We were not obliged to write a positive review, and Cosy Club Bristol didn’t see this review before publication.**
Without my usual dining companion, Helen, best buddy Matt was delighted to be invited for my long-awaited revisit to Cosy Club Bristol. Ryan greeted us and showed us to the far corner.
After a pair of Estrellas, we eyed up the menu, guided by Nick. He guided us beneath the Sistine-esque ceiling and into the newly polished dining area. Grandeur in restaurant form. The lighting was reminiscent of famous cinematographer Gordon Willis. Hanging ‘neath the dark cloud of the other two famous ‘Princes of Darkness’ (Peter Mandelson- recently disgraced, and the late Ozzy Osborne), what had changed? I think it could simply be described as a non-revolutionary enriching of classiness. Honey, I thought. I’m home!
“Do you still do the iconic Monkey Bread?” I asked.
“We do!” He replied. We ordered up; I went for a smoke, as Matt absorbed the warming, serene, deluxe atmosphere. Usual head chef Ronnie was AWOL (no judgement here), leaving Pawel to head up the in-house brigade.
Previously, I had been a little underwhelmed by the flat iron steak. However, with refurbishments in the works, I knew things might be a couple of tweaks better this time…and, my oh my, how I was right. Something must be in the water, around here, as the devil is always in the details. So, I’ll move on to the food now, and you can let your taste buds swell with anticipation as I describe this stuff.
I won’t pretend this is a Michelin star restaurant, but it’s not really trying to be; it’s merely in the tradition of great British/European dining dynasties like Hotel Du Vin or Browns. Out came the garlic and paprika prawns (£9.25), along with my monkey bread and whipped butter (£8.25). Of course two more beers were in order, so I checked out the bathroom to make sure everything was in order there. Of course it was; this is a quality establishment.
The prawns were sizeable, but not langoustine-sized, and resting atop a double-hitter of garlic bread and aioli (bathed, themselves of course, in plenty of garlic and parsley butter). Yielding, unctuous, with crispness at the base; the only surprise was another blob of white, pungent aioli holding the little beauty in place. Simpler still was mine; the multi-part, easily torn, puff of bready goodness is the main reason I wanted to come back. These little loaves must take hours to make, to prove, and then bake. All that’s needed, then, is some quality home-churned butter with a modest sprinkling of flaky salt. I advise you to order this as a side to eke out throughout the main, but that’s not what I did. Maybe some food for thought for the reader there.
Next was the main event, and Matt went for the slow-roasted pork belly with cabbage, croquette, and mustard sauce (£19.50): for myself, the chicken Milanese and chips (£19.50). Firstly, I’ll address the pork: soft (brined, I think) and easy to cut with a spoon- this was lovely. The gravy was enriched with red wine, and the little crunchy bits were wonderfully welcome additions. He nicked plenty of my fries, because I was in a generous mood, and wolfed the whole thing down with gusto!
My chicken was totally indulgent. Flattened, epically-sized, poultry breast panéd in incredibly rocky breadcrumbs, this was a touch under-seasoned when I first dug in. After a couple of twists of the salt, I realised my earlier mistake: the abundance of shaved parmesan that lay around the base of the plate. I pushed a few of these little salty critters over the surface of my ‘Schnitzel’ and finished the whole thing off as if my life depended on it. Koffman’s Fries? I certainly hope so. Only the best for the devotees of Cosy Club Bristol. All in all, an incredibly satisfying meal.
Finished off with a couple of Monkey Shoulder whiskies, the aftermath of this was destined to play out in Wetherspoons Commercial Rooms. Thank you to the team at Cosy Club Bristol! Also, to Neil from the PR company and Emily from Breaks and Bites for hooking this whole thing up.
Atmosphere? Perfect. Drinks? Almost perfect. Food? Can always improve, but nothing to complain about; solid as a rock.
7.8 out of 10 for this one.