The Midland Grand

Exquisite Dining with Historic Charm Awaits!

When stepping into the Midland Grand Dining Room, you might wonder if you've accidentally wandered onto a lavish film set featuring the roaring elegance of 19th-century British opulence. The first impression is indeed breathtaking; think soaring ceilings and Gothic revival grandeur arresting enough to make you want to abandon today's chaotic world for a more ceremonious age. This place demands we eat like kings—or at least conscientiously monitored aristocrats—under the meticulous but delightfully competent eye of Chef Patrick Powell and his team. And let’s be frank: when the first course of snails bourguignon arrives, the epitome of non-British delicacy, served with ‘nduja and guanciale atop pillow-soft Pomme Paillasson, even sceptics find themselves won over.

Despite an occasional service hiccup that maintains the eternal truth that humans err, the staff at Midland Grand get an astonishing amount right, from their attentive yet unobtrusive service to a sommelier whose suggestion brilliance flirts heady with danger, egging patrons on from a safe Sauvignon Blanc edge into Cabernet Franc territory. Any culinary disappointments—an overly salted snail here, an oyster shell hiding perilously in delight there—are far outweighed by impeccably realized main courses like Dover sole meunière or dishes as rich and soothing as old floral upholstery. It's not just a place to eat; it's an experience, ideally located for anyone who's ever found themselves irresistibly drawn toward impossibly chic train station dining following a glimpse of Spice Girl nostalgia. Midland Grand does not merely push the gastronomic boundaries, it elegantly sashays past them—foie gras in one hand, crisp Billecart Salmon Rosé in the other. — Penelope Savory