Champagne and caviar at a Victorianbank-turned-boutique-hotel in London’s Square Mile? Don’t mind if we do…

You know that scene in Mary Poppins where Michael refuses to part with his tuppence in the brilliantly named Dawes, Tomes, Mousley, Grubbs, Fidelity Fiduciary Bank? Well, cue the jaunty music because that’s what springs to mind when you step into the foyer of Threadneedles Hotel, a luxe hotel occupying a listed Victorian banking hall in the historic City of London district. Peppered with intriguing original features, the hotel’s grand circular lobby, with a central dome featuring elaborate hand-painted stained-glass windows dating back to 1856, floods the foyer in colourful late-afternoon light. It’s jaw-dropping – and if it weren’t for the reception staff beckoning me to the check-in desk, I’d still be stood gawping at the intricate stained-glass detailing now.

Situated minutes away from the Bank of England and The Royal Exchange, I expected the hotel surrounds to be all suits, skyscrapers and would-be candidates for The Apprentice. But while this part of London is undoubtedly financially focused, it’s also a bit of an unexpected tourist’s dream. Surrounded by a hive of mysterious alleys, courts and yards leading to a mix of historic and architectural gems, there’s lots to explore on the hotel’s doorstep. And if you want to head to the more typical tourist sites, they’re within easy reach. Unsurprisingly, Threadneedles caters to a contrasting crowd – in the week, its 74 rooms and suites fill up with business guests; come the weekend, tourists love it as a calm but central retreat after a hectic day of sightseeing.

DECADENT DINING

When we return to the Dome Lobby for drinks and dinner, hotel manager Biju cheerfully talks us through the building’s history, pointing out all its original features. There’s an imposing spiral staircase that once led up to the bank manager’s office, a vaulted door that’s so heavy it can only be opened by a team of strapping staff members, and a banking counter that once housed tellers and is now a chic bar forming part of the in-house restaurant, Caviar House at Threadneedles Hotel.

Truthfully, I’ve always thought ordering caviar in a restaurant was for Russian oligarchs and those intent on proving to a room how wealthy they are. But with Caviar House on our doorstep, it seems like a good time to see how the other half live. We start with a glass of dry Champagne with a caviar-loaded mother-of-pearl spoon balanced on top. Under friendly direction from the knowledgeable staff, I smear the glistening caviar onto the back on my hand – the warmth of the hand, I’m told, softens the caviar and releases its unique flavours and aromas – then lick it off in one go. The tiny beads burst in quick succession, filling my mouth with briny deliciousness, and the frothy Champagne that follows brings a tingling burst of mineral flavours. It all feels so illicit but, far from being a case of one excess on top of another, the two really complement one another. If I thought that was hedonistic, the seafood menu that follows takes it next level. We start with a trio of oysters, continue with a prawn cocktail topped with a mound of caviar, and follow with lobster drenched in clarified garlic butter. A dessert of caviar ice – sharp lemon sorbet crowned with caviar and served with a drizzle of vodka – rounds things off nicely.

I’m not going to lie, Champagne and caviar is a combination I could get used to. But after years of making like Mary Poppins’ Michael and spending my tuppence on feeding the birds rather than investing it wisely, I expect it will always remain one of those rare and special treats.