An invitation to lunch at Caviar Kaspia was, once upon a time, an offer you simply didn't refuse.<br>
<br>
Providing, of course, that the bill was on someone <br>
<br>
else. Because caviar, smeared on blinis or piled high on baked potatoes, sure didn't <br>
<br>
come cheap. There may have been other things on the menu, but <br>
<br>
no one paid them much heed. This was all about lashings of the black <br>
<br>
stuff.<br>
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Caviar Kaspia's signature baked potato and caviar: ‘there are few <br>
<br>
better dishes on earth…only the price, at just under £150, <br>
<br>
is ridiculous'<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
Caviar Kaspia popped her final tin about two decades back.<br>
<br>
And that site, hidden down a smart Mayfair mews, was taken over by <br>
<br>
Gavin Rankin (who used to be the boss), and transformed into the brilliant Bellamy's.<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
It prospers to this day. Kaspia, on the other hand, went quiet.<br>
<br>
Until last year, when she reopened as a members' club in another Mayfair backstreet.<br>
<br>
But a £2,000 a year membership fee proved hard to swallow, meaning the doors were opened to the great unwashed.<br>
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Which is how we find ourselves sitting in a rather handsome - albeit near empty - dining room, lusciously lavish, under the stern gaze of a stern painting of a very stern man. The soft, crepuscular gloom is broken up by the glare of table lamps, indecorously bright,<br>
<br>
while a loud soundtrack of indolent, indeterminate beats throbs <br>
<br>
in the background. The whole place is scented with gilded ennui.<br>
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<br>
<br>
<br>
Our fellow diners are two young South Korean women of pale, luminescent beauty,<br>
<br>
clad in diaphanous couture. They don't speak, rather communicate entirely via camera phone.<br>
<br>
Pose, click, check, filter, post. Immaculate waiters hover in the <br>
<br>
shadows.<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
We sip ice-cold vodka, and eat a £77 caviar and smoked-salmon Kaspia croque monsieur that tastes far better than it <br>
<br>
ought to. Next door, a large table fills with a glut of <br>
<br>
the noisily, glossily confident.<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
We're looked after by a wonderful French lady of such effervescent charm and charisma that had she burst into an impromptu performance of ‘Willkommen', we would have <br>
<br>
barely blinked. Baked potatoes, skin as crisp as parchment, insides whipped savagely hard with butter and sour cream, are a <br>
<br>
study in tuber art. A cool jet-black splodge of oscietra caviar, <br>
<br>
gently saline, raises them to the sublime. Only the price, at just under £150 each, is ridiculous.<br>
<br>
But there are few better dishes on earth. I'd eat this every day if <br>
<br>
I could. But I can't. Obviously. That's the problem with caviar.<br>
<br>
One taste is never enough.<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
<b>About £200 per head. Caviar Kaspia, 1a Chesterfield Street, London W1; caviarkaspialondon.com</b><br>
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<b>★★★★✩</b><br>
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<i><u>My favourite luxury dishes</u></i><br>
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Piscine perfection comes at an eye-watering £420 per person, sans booze.<br>
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<b>dorchestercollection.com</b><br>
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Min Jiang<br>
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The dim sum is some of the best in town. But don't miss the wood-fired Beijing duck (£98) <br>
<br>
- crisp skin first, then two servings of the meat.<br>
<br>
Superb.<br>
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<br>
<br>
minjiang.co.uk<br>
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An invitation to lunch at