Keeping secrets has never been my forte. From thoughts on that colleague’s latest hair-do through to who’s shagging who, chances are I’ve heard it, whispered it, and then drunkenly got into a heart-to-heart with the subject of the rumours by the end of the week. So when I was invited down to Covent Garden’s ultra exclusive hideout, Cache Cache, it seems only right that I inform the world exactly what happened in those subterranean cellars.
Before I can start blabbering about it, I need to find the place. Meaning ‘hide and seek’ in French, Cache Cache is reserved strictly by Whatsapp, and with only a private Instagram account to give me clues, finding the place is half the fun. When we do finally clobber down the steps near Covent Garden Piazza, a burly bouncer pushes open an unmarked black door, leading us through a nondescript, boiler-like room. It’s at this point that I’m wondering if I'm about to be knee-capped in a case of mistaken identity, but the long mirror at the end of the room is pushed open and we’re dazzled by a decor equivalent of a disco ball, the space covered wall-to-wall in mirrored tiles (spoiler, there will be a lot of drunken selfies in here later).
If we thought the bathroom on steroids was opulent, the rest of Cache Cache doesn’t disappoint. A series of three, exposed-brick cellar rooms have been transformed into a drinking and dining space; luxe booths run along the side, tables are tucked into corners and thick velvet curtains hide private patrons. Even the scent of the place is controlled with a specially designed perfume from fancy Swiss retailer Fragrance Du Bois. Our compere is the impeccably dressed A Barchman, an influencer in his own right, assisted by a coterie of modelesque women.
Cocktails precede dinner and from the long list of Roaring Twenties-inspired tipples, I pick a spicy margarita (I’m not that exciting OK), a mix of Tapatio Blanco tequila, Ancho Reyes Chilli liquer and fresh lime juice (£18). If you’re one of those people who likes to spend hours pouring over the menu, that’s not going to be a problem at Cache Cache, with a short, sweet and rather expensive list, featuring four mains (two fish and two meat), and a pick of small plates. There’s a distinct latin flavour running through everything; the soft fish of the yellowtail hamachi (£22) has a fiery bite from a sliver of jalapeno, which is also seen in the thin whisps of black angus carpaccio (£18).
It’s the stout braised short rib (£40) that pulls us back from dancing with the bongo player. A wobble of soft meat arrives still on the bone, the rich, gelatinous beef sweetened with an ancho chilli glaze, which we pair with an ice-cream thick, decadent bowl of truffle-mixed mash potato, knocking spoons to get the last scoop. And then we're back on our feet - as the bongo player slaps wildly away and the rooms darken.
The DesignMyNight Digest
There’s secret London bars and then there’s Cache Cache, a glimpse into the playground of how the other half live. Hidden behind mirrors, doors, and bouncers, this secret Covent Garden club and restaurant is the perfect hidey-hole if you’re looking for opulence, excellent dining, and letting your hair down, without any of the crowds.
Looking for more secret restaurants in London? Check out our guide here.