There are few places in London where time seems to soften around the edges but Home House, ever discreet behind its Georgian façade in Marylebone, is certainly one of them. Nowhere is this more true than in its Garden, which has officially reopened for the summer season—and it’s as transportive as ever.
Tucked quietly within the club’s private grounds, the Garden is a leafy, light-drenched escape part English idyll, part Mediterranean courtyard, entirely its own kind of calm. On warm days and long evenings, this is where the city disappears.
I’ve always adored Home House. There’s an unmistakable warmth to it, a kind of quiet glamour that’s never performative. Part of the magic lies in the staff, many of whom have been there for years. There’s a comfort in that continuity; it means returning always feels familiar, even on your first step through the door. It’s one of those rare places that truly lives up to its name, it feels like home.
We began with the Home House mezze selection a colourful trio of red pepper and tahini hummus, whipped ricotta with apricot harissa, and a punchy edamame and wasabi dip. Served with warm flatbread, it’s generous and bright a summer table opener that feels at once healthful and hedonistic.
To drink, we went with a classic: a bottle of Rock Angel rosé. It’s the kind of wine that belongs outdoors, poured slowly and often, as the light shifts around the table.
The new Garden BBQ menu follows suit: a celebration of seasonal generosity and laid-back luxury. Think Sicilian red prawns with tarragon butter, grilled Dover sole with cucumber and lemon, and a heritage tomato panzanella that must to be shared.
Heartier plates include the grass-fed onglet steak with chimichurri and a seafood platter made for sharing. For lighter fare, the Wye Valley asparagus with agretti and oyster mushroom skewers offer delicate flavour with thoughtful restraint.
The cocktail list is, as ever, a quiet triumph. We tried the clarified colada and the Riviera Breeze with citrus and basil, but it’s the Spicy Margarita that deserves its own warning: lethal, in the most fabulous way. Possibly the most dangerous in the city, sip accordingly.
By the end of the evening, the sun had dipped and the fairy lights began to glow. I could’ve stayed there all night. As ever, Home House doesn’t shout, it seduces.
20 Portman Square, W1H 6LW
Further information and details on membership can be found at www.homehouse.co.uk
