East India Club

Good place to go for a quiet drink after work or for lunch at the weekend. The interior is beautifully decorated, food is lovely (reasonably priced) and staff are very professional.

This entire club, at least what I’ve seen being a lady (not allowed in the vast majority of the rooms, you see), is lovely. Very classic London. Beautiful architecture, great restaurant, good drinks (I enjoy them in the Drawing Room) and service as it should be.

Groucho Marx famously asserted that he «didn’t want to be part of any club that would accept him as a member.» Well, the East India Club is unlikely to accept this working-​class boy into its ranks. So how exactly am I meant to feel about it?
Signed in by a friend who has membership from his public school days, I instantly felt a bit out of place, sweating slightly thanks to the July heat and my thick funeral/​interview/​wedding suit-​tie combo. But two quite-​reasonably-​priced drinks in, I’d stopped worrying. Three, and I’d decided that no-​one in an ill-​fitting double-​breasted blazer could intimidate me. Four, and Tarquin was my new best friend. Eton, donchaknow? Smashing chap.
Assuming you don’t want to spend the whole evening lamenting the country’s lack of a strong, Thatcher-​esque leader — ironic given The East India Club is mostly off limits to the fairer sex — the restaurant has to be the main attraction. And oh my, the food is exquisite. Once I’d stopped giggling at «gentleman’s relish on toast», I finished every last morsel of my generous duck main. And wolfed down a large slab of raspberry tart. The house wines were superb, as was the port. And while it was all pretty far from cheap, the quality well out-​stripped the price.
So will I be looking to weasel my way into this old boy’s club and experience such fine living on a regular basis? Erm, it was nice and all, but no thanks. Besides, I’m too old to grow a floppy haircut and too young to die of gout.

One of the less snobby private clubs in London, the EIC boasts excellent, reasonably priced food and wine and a friendly and cliqueless atmosphere. People from all walks of life, be they jaded, alcoholic ex-​public schoolboys or moneyed City gents from the depths of Stepney, can be found sipping the club’s peerless White Burgundy and gorging themselves on London’s finest Dover Sole. The Dining Room serves classic British club food alongside Indian and simple French dishes. The Chateaubriand steak is sublime, as is whatever Maitre D’ James Dempsey has on his carving trolley. Personally, I’d avoid the curries but their quality is a matter of heated debate among members.
If you are lucky enough to be invited along, expect a fantastic, old-​world evening that will not give your bank manager a fit.
Membership is by invitation only, but former pupils of HMC schools can join within 18 months of leaving school [with a satisfactory reference from their headmaster].
Dress code is strict. Jackets, ties and polishable leather shoes are a must. Suits are preferred and no denim gets anywhere near the place. It is frowned upon to break the dress code but members are unlikely to take issue with you personally — staff may ask you to leave. If you are a guest, it will reflect very badly upon your host member if you do not conform to the dress code. As befits such an establishment, members and their guests are expected to behave in a civilised manner. Excessive drunkenness, rudeness and other disruptions are not encouraged.
Ladies are only allowed into certain rooms at certain times — if in doubt, check with a club servant or member. Don’t let this put you off — they are more than welcome at the EIC. The Ladies’ Drawing Room provides an elegant space for members to entertain mixed company and indeed, gentlemen are not allowed in the LDR unless accompanied by a lady.