Jolie

The World’s End is not the apocalypse I imagined. In fact, it’s quite a pleasant spot on the furthest outskirt of Chelsea. The name comes from The World’s End pub, a place of dubious repute that first sprang up in the 17th c. The latest incarnation from 1897 is now grade ll listed. Redubbed the Chelsea Funhouse, it still boasts the original name. More importantly, it still provides drink. 3 floors of it!

I had planned to cycle to The World’s End. The weather decided I would use public transport for the first time since lockdown instead! I thought I might get all Howard Hughes about it but no. It was…wait for it… just like riding a bike! (Insert boom tish sound here). Masking and social distancing have become the norm on public transport. Well done commuters! We took the Overground to Imperial Wharf. From there it’s an easy 15-minute walk…if you don’t get lost…which we did. I see a lot of London that way!

Chelsea Funhouse is operated by Lollipop, specialists in immersive hospitality. The immersive part here is downstairs at The Bletchley where drinkers crack WW2 codes to create cocktails. Upstairs is Chelsea Black, known for its Espresso Martinis and fab al fresco space. On the ground floor is Jolie, beautifully decorated with comfort, colour and whimsy at its core. The idea is to make French dining more relaxed by giving it a loungey feel. Geared for the young, partymonger set, my septuagenarian friend and I fit right in!

Lounging with a cocktail in my paw is something I’m good at. Professional even! This is where Jolie works really well. It’s a wonderful room, the vibe is great and my Calvados Sour (£12) was a lovely, well-balanced cocktail. Eating however, presented some difficulties. We sat at one of the few café tables with chairs, inches from another patron. The table was too low, forcing me to eat in man-spread (my guest opted for side saddle) and too small for the 6 sharing plates that arrived all at once. We spent the evening juggling dishes and glasses. This lack of comfort doesn’t jibe with the comfy concept. A smaller bar menu would work. Pacing the meal would work. Bigger tables would work. It’s fixable.

The food is fine and reasonably priced, but not memorable. My biggest criticism is the bread. This integral part of French culture is badly represented here by something reminiscent of the store-bought, pre-sliced variety. It did no favours for tasty salmon rillettes (£11) or a very mild cheese fondue (£12). Seared foie gras (£12.50) was actually pâté de foie gras. Thankfully, not seared.

The wine list too is a disappointment for Francophiles. The wines seem sourced for easy drinking rather than serious dining. A 2017 Primitivo di Manduria (£38) was indeed, easily drunk!

The World’s End certainly has allure. Perhaps not for my last supper, but I wouldn’t say no to an apocalyptic binge!

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