Pique-Nique — Restaurant in London

Our evening at Pique Nique unfolded much like Sergio Leone’s epic film, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. This culinary showdown had its fair share of heroes, villains, and—yes—some extras that probably should have stayed out of frame altogether. Allow me to introduce you to the cast and set the stage for our evening:

The Cast: Crispy Egg, Corn Purée, Girolles: A plucky opener, full of promise. Stonebass Ceviche: A dish of intrigue… perhaps. Raviolo: Mysterious and bold. Burrata and Roasted Pumpkin: Charming, but blink, and you’ll miss it. Chateaubriand, Crispy Potato, Bordelaise Sauce: The proclaimed hero. Duck Mallard, Smoked Polenta, Grand Veneur Sauce: A gamble. Fig Tart: A hopeful crowd-pleaser. Mille-Feuille Mont Blanc: A decadent final act.

The Good

Crispy Egg: An unexpected twist in our appetizer lineup, the egg was crispy, golden, and filled with personality. However, its supporting cast, the girolles, were so bland they could’ve been cardboard stand-ins—barely deserving a place in the ensemble.

Fig Tart: Now here’s where Pigue Nique found its true star. The fig tart was flawless, a scene-stealer, the kind of dish that could win an Oscar. It was devoured in record time—a clear victor in this evening’s tale.

Mille-Feuille Mont Blanc: A gorgeous stack of delicate, crispy layers. But alas, the chestnut cream tasted like it had forgotten its lines, leaving us searching for the nutty essence that was meant to anchor the performance.

The Bad

Stonebass Ceviche: Not fresh, dry, and drowned by its vegetables, this dish had all the drama of a cactus in a drought. It lacked the brightness we’d expected, leaving it about as enticing as tumbleweed.

Raviolo: This one waltzed onto the stage with Roquefort as its weapon of choice. Unfortunately, the flavor was so intense, it left the dish about as subtle as a bar brawl—an overly aggressive flavor that needed a gentler touch.

Burrata and Pumpkin: A charming idea, but with burrata so minimal it felt like a cameo role. If you squint at the photo, you might spot a dot of cheese hiding among the pumpkin, as if it had no intention of being noticed.

Chateaubriand: Billed as the star, but bland as a brick wall. The crispy potato stole the spotlight, leaving us wondering if it had somehow overshadowed the supposed lead. We didn’t even get a say in how it was cooked—“medium rare French style,” they insisted, with a shrug that brokered no argument. Alright, if you say so!

The Ugly

Duck Mallard: This was a twist we didn’t see coming—and not in a good way. Our duck arrived so rare, it looked like it had barely survived the final shootout. Bright red and bloody, it could’ve doubled as a special effect. The smoked polenta, meanwhile, just hovered in the background like an extra with nothing much to do.

The Final Scene As for the manager, they played the role of the surly bartender, taking our feedback with the grace of a disgruntled gunslinger. Points for the gesture of comping a few dishes from the bill, though—it was a partial truce in what felt like an otherwise dramatic finale.

Would I return to Pique Nique for another screening? Only if they rewrite the script a little. Until then, I’ll be riding off into the sunset in search of a meal with a bit more grit and a...

Finally brought myself to write this review after having a shockingly bad treatment.

Been here few times and enjoyed it so when friends asked for a place to do a leaving do I recommended going here. One of our party was pregnant and asked if we can go somewhere where we can sit outside as she wasn’t vaccinated (this was last summer when cases were increasing). I went a week in advance in person and asked the staff who re-assured me that we could either sit outside or if the weather wasn’t good to sit outside, they would open windows around the table for us. We took photos of the arrangement together and I showed to our friend who got re-assured and we booked for a party of 8.

A week later when we came, we were sat on the table with windows closed. As no one said anything to us beforehand I thought this was may be due to information not having been passed on to the staff working on the day. However when I tried to say something, the manager confronted us saying he was the manager and that it was cold and so they weren’t going to open the windows. Fair enough but we could have been informed beforehand as he already knew we requested this specifically. We didn’t want to create a problem as we were already there so we said okay and sat down.

However it all went downhill from there with very unfriendly service. Took ages to get our orders and weren’t offered any drinks. When we tried to order a drink they took only one person’s order and we had to call back to ask for the rest of the table’s drink orders to be taken.

Our pregnant friend ordered ceviche for starters without realising this would be raw fish which she cannot eat. When the dish arrived and she asked, I tried to explain to her that it is ‘cooked in acid’ but not heat, the waiter replied ‘no it is not cooked’. When I tried to explain it is the term used for the technique, she rolled her eyes, shrugged and replied ‘i don’t think so’.

I never regretted recommending a place more than this. We were made to feel so unwelcome all because a staff member made a promise to us that the manager wasn’t...

We booked a pre‑ordered lunch for eight at Pique Nique, thinking ahead—and, frankly, hoping for smooth service. That was our first mistake.

Cutlery was actually dropped on us, not near us. Drinks? We had to ask three separate times. Then came the automatic 15% service charge—up from the 5–12.5% we used to expect. That’s a huge jump to justify, especially when service was non-existent.

These steeper fees have become common in London since October’s tipping law, with many outlets now charging 15% or more—ostensibly to cover rising costs and ensure staff benefit—but in reality, it’s a convenient way to increase profits while appearing ‘transparent’.

Starters disappoint: limp asparagus tasting like it came from a tin, and pâté poor it resulted in upset tummy for my partner—not what you want at lunch.

The main course—chicken and chips—was decent, but let’s be honest: it’s chicken and chips. Nothing more. You could make the same at home for £10, not pay over £50 per head for a butter sauce.

Fine, but uninspired—akin to something you’d buy at Waitrose for a third of the price.

We paid £50+ per person, plus 15% added with no justification or transparency on how it was used. As consumer regulations make clear, service charges must be clearly disclosed in advance. This felt deceptive—more insurance against complaint than genuine reward for staff.

Yes, the chateaubriand was well cooked—but predictably priced and predictably underwhelming given the big picture.

Bottom line: Pique Nique relies on the charm of Bermondsey and the gloss of French dining—but pairs it with sloppy service and opaque charges. Unless you’re a tourist drawn by the postcode, skip the hype and shop for chicken, chips, and butter sauce yourself at home—no hidden fees, no stress.

One star for the basic chicken and one for the chateaubriand. But the rest—service failures, limp starters, overpriced mediocrity, and that unapologetic...