Walk into the Strand today and you’ll see the construction hoardings. It’s a bit depressing, honestly. For anyone who loves the smell of roasting beef and the heavy weight of silver-plated domed covers, the current state of Simpsons in the Strand is a bit of a heartbreaker. This place isn't just a restaurant. It’s a fossil. But a living one.
The history here is so thick you could cut it with one of those legendary carving knives. Since 1828, this spot has been the epicenter of British culinary identity. It started as a cigar divan. People came to smoke, talk politics, and play chess. Specifically, they played world-class chess.
But there was a problem.
The chess players were so focused on their knights and bishops that they didn't want to be interrupted by the clatter of plates. To solve this, the waiters started wheeling large joints of meat on silver trolleys directly to the tables. They’d carve the beef right there, silently, so the grandmasters wouldn't lose their train of thought. That is how the famous Simpson’s trolley service was born. It wasn't a gimmick. It was a functional solution for a room full of nerds.
The Ghost of Roast Beef Past
You can’t talk about Simpsons in the Strand without talking about the beef. This isn't your local Sunday roast. We are talking about 28-day aged Scottish beef, carved with surgical precision. For decades, the Master Cook (a title that carries way more weight than "Executive Chef" in this context) oversaw a ritual that felt more like a religious ceremony than dinner.
The trolleys themselves are antiques. Massive, heavy, and silver-plated. When the restaurant's contents were auctioned off recently—a move that sent shockwaves through the London dining scene—some of those trolleys fetched upwards of £16,000. It felt like watching the crown jewels being sold at a garage sale.
Why does this matter? Because London is losing its "Old World" flavor. Everything is becoming glass, steel, and small plates of fermented radishes. Simpsons in the Strand represented the opposite of that. It was the bastion of the "Ordinary." In 19th-century parlance, an "Ordinary" was a set meal, usually a roast, served at a fixed price. It was honest.
Winston Churchill and the Art of the Table
The list of regulars at Simpson’s reads like a history textbook. Winston Churchill had his favorite table. Charles Dickens sat here. Even Sherlock Holmes—yes, the fictional one—frequented the place in Arthur Conan Doyle's stories. Holmes once told Watson he wanted "something nutritious" at Simpson’s after a long case.
There's a specific kind of gravity to a room that has hosted those names. You feel it in the wood paneling. You feel it in the high ceilings.
But nostalgia doesn't pay the bills in 2026. The Savoy Estate, which owns the property, has been in a long-term process of "reimagining" what this space should be. They closed the doors in 2020, and the reopening has been a series of starts and stops. Rumors fly about whether it will become a high-end boutique retail space or if the carving trolleys will actually return.
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What Most People Get Wrong About the Menu
Everyone thinks Simpson’s was just about beef. Wrong.
While the beef was the star, the menu was a catalog of British heritage. They served things you just don't see anymore. Lord Woolton Pie. Potted shrimps that actually tasted like the sea. Boiled silverside.
The most underrated dish? The Savoy cabbage. It sounds boring. It's just cabbage, right? No. At Simpsons in the Strand, it was prepared with a level of buttery decadence that made you rethink your entire relationship with vegetables.
And then there was the breakfast. The "Ten Deadly Sins" breakfast was a legendary gut-buster of eggs, bacon, sausage, kidneys, and pretty much every other part of the pig. It was glorious. It was also probably responsible for a significant percentage of London’s high blood pressure in the mid-20th century.
The Chess Connection Nobody Talks About
We mentioned chess earlier, but the depth of it is wild. In 1851, Simpson’s hosted the first-ever international chess tournament. This wasn't just a casual game; it was the "Immortal Game" between Adolf Anderssen and Lionel Kieseritzky.
The restaurant literally changed the sport.
Because the players were using the restaurant's clocks and space, the etiquette of the game evolved here. If you go back into the archives, the "Divan" was where the social hierarchy of London was dismantled by 64 squares. A clerk could beat a Lord, provided he knew his Sicilian Defense.
Why the Recent Auction Was a Big Deal
In 2023 and 2024, the "Great Sale" happened. Thousands of items were put under the hammer. We’re talking about:
- The iconic silver-domed carving trolleys.
- Edwardian dining chairs that had held the weight of Prime Ministers.
- Custom-made Wedgwood china with the Simpson’s crest.
- Even the signage from the front of the building.
For some, this was the final nail in the coffin. It looked like the Savoy was stripping the soul out of the building to make way for a generic luxury concept. However, the management insists this is part of a "restoration." They claim that by clearing out the old, they can bring in a "new era" that honors the past.
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It’s a risky move. You can’t just buy "heritage" back at an auction. Once those original pieces are gone, the room is just a room.
The Reality of Dining at Simpsons in the Strand
Let’s be honest for a second. Before it closed, Simpson’s was struggling.
The service could be stiff. Sometimes the beef was a little more "well-done" than a modern palate might prefer. It was expensive—very expensive. You weren't just paying for the meat; you were paying for the rent on one of the most famous streets in the world and the salary of a man whose sole job was to sharpen a knife.
Younger diners weren't flocking there. They wanted Instagrammable interiors and fusion tacos. Simpson’s offered brown food in a brown room.
But that brown food was soul-stirring.
The Master Carvers were artists. They knew exactly how to slice across the grain to ensure the meat melted. They knew how to serve the juice (never call it gravy in front of a purist) so it didn't soak the Yorkshire pudding too quickly.
What Really Happened During the Refurbishment?
The delay in reopening Simpsons in the Strand isn't just about paint and carpet. It's about the infrastructure of an 1828 building. When you start peeling back the layers of a place that old, you find things. Ancient plumbing. Wiring that belongs in a museum. Structural issues that cost millions to fix.
The Savoy has been tight-lipped. They've partnered with various designers, and the latest whispers suggest a return to the "Grand Divan" style but with a bar that actually appeals to people under the age of 60.
There's a delicate balance here. If they make it too modern, they lose the regulars (the few that are left). If they keep it exactly the same, they go bankrupt again.
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How to Experience the Spirit of Simpson’s Now
Since the doors at 100 Strand are currently closed to the general public for regular service, you have to look elsewhere to catch that vibe.
- The Savoy Grill: Just around the corner, Gordon Ramsay’s outpost keeps some of the classic French-British tradition alive. It’s more "theatre" than Simpson’s, but the quality is high.
- Rules in Covent Garden: If you want the oldest restaurant experience with game and roasts, Rules is the closest living relative to Simpson’s. It’s still packed, still traditional, and still refuses to change its ways.
- The Quality Chop House: For a more modern take on "serious British meat," this is where the younger crowd goes to find what Simpson’s used to offer—uncompromising quality without the white ties.
Is It Gone for Good?
The short answer: No.
The long answer: It will never be what it was.
The Simpsons in the Strand that your grandfather talked about is gone. The era of the all-day cigar lounge and the quiet chess game is over. But the brand is too valuable to kill.
The plan for the "New Simpson’s" involves a more diverse culinary offering while keeping the "Carvery" as a centerpiece. Expect more seafood. Expect a wine list that doesn't just focus on heavy Bordeaux. Expect, unfortunately, much higher prices.
Practical Steps for the Food History Lover
If you are planning a trip to London and were hoping to dine at this icon, don't lose hope, but do adjust your expectations.
Check the official Savoy website for "pop-up" announcements. Occasionally, they host "Simpson’s Sundays" in other parts of the hotel where the remaining trolleys are brought out for a limited run. It’s the only way to get that specific cut of beef right now.
Keep an eye on the heritage plaques outside the building. Even if you can't eat there, standing at the entrance gives you a sense of the scale. The Strand is a busy, noisy, chaotic street, but for nearly 200 years, this building was a sanctuary of slow-paced, deliberate living.
When it does finally reopen—and it will—don't go expecting a trendy meal. Go for the weight of the silver. Go for the ghost of the chess players. Go because in a world of "fast casual," some things are worth waiting 200 years for.
To truly understand the legacy, you should look into the "Immortal Game" of 1851. It’s the best way to visualize what the room felt like when it was the center of the intellectual world. Then, go find a proper British roast in Covent Garden and toast to the return of the trolleys.
The master carvers are still out there. They’re just waiting for the doors to unlock.