Laurence Isaacson (left), Brian Clivaz, and Doris the bulldog of London's L'Escargot. All photos by the author.
After bemoaning the traffic from Primrose Hill ("Just the nicest part of London," according to Isaacson) and the half-lobster-that-could-have-been-a-shrimp served to him the previous lunchtime at The Wolseley ("Well, that's the difference between the smaller Canadian lobster and the proper native English lobster from Cornwall or Scotland," says Clivaz), Isaacson orders a croissant and a latte. He turns to me with a wink: "I really shouldn't be having this for breakfast but I can't help myself."Isaacson and Clivaz have been the proprietors of L'Escargot for the past two years, but the hosts with the most far longer than that. They met in 1990 and opened private members' club Home House eight years later. It's still there today, tucked away in London's Portman Square just behind Selfridges, catering to those looking to continue the party from the nearby Churchill hotel.READ MORE: LA's Longest-Standing Bartender Has 86'd More Celebrities Than You
One of the private members' rooms at L'Escargot.
"A lady friend of mine who happened to own half of Covent Garden said she had a building in Covent Garden and had got permission to open a restaurant," says Isaacson. "I said, 'Well, I've always wanted to open a restaurant' which was a pile of shit. I'd never wanted to open a restaurant but it's a nice thing to say."Long story short: after the lady friend agreed to put up the first two year's rent, Isaacson had a restaurant."I was fucked," states Isaacson. "So, we set up a restaurant called Café Des Amis du Vin and because we knew nothing about the restaurant business, we were very successful."I'd never wanted to open a restaurant but it's a nice thing to say
The staircase at L'Escargot.
Clivaz, on the other hand, had been working his way up from the kitchens of The Dorchester—where he started as a commis chef—onto the reception desks and beyond of top hotels in Paris, Dubai, and Bermuda.He explains his path into the restaurant world simply: "I got into the business because my father told me not to go into the business."The son of a caterer, Clivaz originally had intentions of becoming a history professor ("I had even wanted to become a priest at one stage, believe it or not"), but after being told that he could choose any profession aside from catering, Clivaz took a long look at this father."I thought, 'Look, he's a large man, smoked cigars, goes to all the best restaurants, has nice cocktail parties and things. Why don't I go into catering?'" laughs Clivaz.After revealing the plan to study hotels and catering to his father, Clivaz was told that he needn't go to university: "My father said, 'I don't want you to go into it but if you're determined to, you have to start at the bottom.'"With grand ambitions of working his way up and out of the kitchen, becoming general manager at The Dorchester, and being "up there with all the lovelies," Clivaz put in the hours.We had Stevie Wonder stay there and he said he loved the décor!
Clivaz and Doris.
A private members' room at L'Escargot.
It's a clichéd question but I have to ask how the London hospitality scene, especially regarding elusive private members' clubs, has changed since the pair started out. Isaacson thinks for a moment."A lot of dining out has become more informal. I think this is an iconic restaurant and will always be that. I'd rather it be the best French restaurant in London than one of many fast food operations," he says. "On the other hand, you have to adapt and have menus for if you want to eat really well or just have a snack."So, we walked in and there were screams from the bed.
The restaurant's snail mosaic threshold.
"Our members will come for our Wednesday lunch and it's quite often that they'll come for lunch, stay in the afternoon, and they'll still be here at 11 o'clock at night," he says. "When I was at Simpson's-in-the-Strand, people would be sitting there and drinking port at four or five in the afternoon. There are very few places where that actually happens any more.The long lunch still exists here, preserved at L'Escargot."No wonder Doris likes this place so much. The food may be getting faster and less formal at the restaurants surrounding L'Escargot but once you cross the mosaic snail threshold and climb the spiral staircase, you enter a place where time stands still.I think back to the start of my conversation with Clivaz and Isaacson. When I described the Last Call feature to the pair, Clivaz laments that they have themselves become the bookends of Soho.But as George, their charming general manager points out, you need the bookends to hold everything else up.This article originally appeared on MUNCHIES in July 2016.READ MORE: This Montreal Bartender Can't Make Cocktails But He's One Hell Of a Storyteller