Lucky Cat 22 Bishopsgate Review: Is London's Highest Restaurant Worth £800?

Sixty floors up. Four months on the waiting list. A bill for £803.85.

This Lucky Cat 22 Bishopsgate review has been rattling around my head since the taxi ride back to our hotel, and I still have mixed feelings. Not because the food was bad. It wasn't. Not because the view was anything less than sensational. It was. It's because of everything in between.

Let me take you through the whole thing. The good, the frustrating and the bits that quietly add up.

Charlie watched the documentary. The one about the build, about how Gordon Ramsay's team put a restaurant together at the top of the tallest office building in the City of London. I never got round to it. But you know me. I love food, I love good chefs and I love an experience. So when Charlie said we're going to Lucky Cat and my cousin and his wife are coming too, I was in. Why wouldn't I be?

We had this date in the diary for four months. Four months! The only Saturday slot we could get was half past five. Ideally we'd have taken half six or seven, but honestly, half five was fine. It's a relatively new opening (it took the title of London's highest restaurant when it launched in early 2025) and the bookings are rammed. You take what you can get.

We purposely didn't look at the menu before we went. We wanted the surprise. In hindsight, that was a mistake, and I'll tell you why in a minute.

We took a taxi from Sea Containers, where we were staying for the weekend, over to 22 Bishopsgate. If you've never seen the building, it's enormous, and we genuinely didn't know where to get out. Here's what you need to know: Lucky Cat has its own separate entrance and its own lifts. If you're standing on Bishopsgate looking at the building, the restaurant entrance is on the right hand side.

The welcome starts immediately. There's a front of house guy at the door, hat on, full of character, and he asked if we were here for a birthday and whether we'd been before. First time, we said. He sent us up the first escalator and that's where it gets interesting, because the next stop is what I can only describe as airport security. Bag on the belt, walk through the gate, the works. It makes sense in a building like this, but be ready for it, especially if you've got a clutch bag full of bits.

Then another member of the team, another warm greeting, and very clear instructions: walk to the end of the corridor, don't press anything, the lift will come for you and take you up automatically. It did, and it was rapid. My ears popped. From there you walk round to a second lift for the final stretch, and that's when you first clock how high you are. The view from the lift lobby alone had us stopping dead.

What struck me on the way in was just how many touch points there were. Doorman, security, corridor greeter, lift lobby host, and then the team at the top. Lots of smiley, professional faces, which is exactly what you want when you're about to spend a serious amount of money. Remember that word, touch points. It matters later.

Lucky Cat sits on Level 60 of 22 Bishopsgate, with Bread Street Kitchen on the floor below and the terrace above. The room is stunning. Brand new, obviously, but not in a shiny showroom way. Think dark timber floors, deep blue velvet chairs, a sculptural cluster of globe pendants hanging over the dining room like a constellation, and a wall of hand painted Japanese style fans and plates behind the open sushi bar where the chefs work in full view.

And then the windows. Floor to ceiling, wrapping right round the room, so wherever you're sitting you can see London laid out beneath you. The Shard, the river, the Gherkin practically at eye level. I'd say most tables have a genuinely good view. We'd put a request in for a window table and we weren't quite at the glass, more like one or two tables back, but because of the way the room is laid out it didn't matter. I still had to get up and take photographs. You can't not.

One of the front of house team walked us to our table. I didn't catch her name but she told me she liked my outfit, and I told her I liked hers, because the uniform is a beautiful silk blue shirt and I'd happily wear it. That's the kind of small, human moment I remember. Hold that thought too.

Our waiter introduced himself (I've forgotten his name, which probably tells you something) and I'm going to be honest with you, because I always am: he had zero personality. None. He was efficient, I'll give him that. Everything arrived promptly and we were told what each dish was. But when you're spending this much money on a Saturday night, you want a bit of warmth. A bit of charisma. Ideally a bit of comedy. I know it's pot luck with waiters, but if hosting is your job at a restaurant of this calibre, you need something behind the eyes.

Then there was the water. We asked for still water. He brought out two bottles of Acqua Panna, filled three glasses from the first bottle, then opened the second to fill the fourth glass. Just like that, our water bill doubled before we'd even looked at the menu. Now, I like to stay hydrated as much as anyone, and I'm sure we'd have ordered a second bottle eventually. But we didn't ask for two. At £7.50 a bottle, that's the kind of thing that quietly adds up on a bill, and it really annoys me. That was my first little red flag.

Here's where not looking at the menu in advance came back to bite us.

There's a full a la carte, and there are three set sharing menus: Journey at £105 per person, Signature at £135 and Essence at £175, each with an optional wine pairing. The a la carte also lists a whole roasted suckling pig with bao buns, pickled vegetables and sauces, priced by market, but you have to pre order it 48 hours ahead. That is exactly the sort of thing we'd have done if we'd known. We asked the waiter roughly how much and he said around £450, which between four of us as a main event is about what you'd expect at this level. If you're a bigger group, the private dining room does a Feast menu at £185 a head that has the pig built in. Either way, I just wish we'd had the heads up.

When you're somewhere for the first time and there's this much to choose from, I think a tasting menu is the smart move. You get to try a bit of everything, and if you come back you can go rogue. So we went for the middle option, the Signature menu at £135 a head.

We did ask the waiter, very clearly, whether it would be enough. We are big eaters. Properly big eaters. Did we need to throw in an extra main? He looked at us and said, and I quote, I promise this will be enough, ma'am. Reader, he was right. But I'll come to that.

To drink, we shared two bottles of Olifantsberg Old Vine Chenin Blanc from South Africa at £72 a bottle. Lovely wine, generous and textured, and it held its own against everything from the sushi to the steak.

A quick note before I go through the dishes. The acoustics up there are loud. Really loud, and echoey with it. We said pardon a couple of times to the waiter, and he said pardon back to us, which is frustrating when you're trying to find out what you're eating and you've paid for the privilege. So some of what follows is me piecing it together with the menu afterwards.

Salted edamame to start, as you'd expect. Then baby squid with salt and vinegar, shichimi and szechuan pepper. The squid itself I'd call nothing special. But the lime that came with it? I know this sounds ridiculous. It was the most fruity, juicy lime I have ever squeezed in my life. I've been thinking about that lime. Make of that what you will.

This was one of the dishes the waiter offered to mix at the table, and we let him. Yellowtail, avocado, yuzu, a little caviar on top. Bright, clean and delicious. Exactly the kind of dish you want to open with when you're looking out over the city.

Chef's selection of mixed sushi: salmon and avocado rolls, then three pieces of sashimi. Yellowtail, tuna, salmon, and honestly I couldn't tell you what the third was but it was divine. Absolutely divine. Sushi is right up my street, and watching the chefs at the counter work while we ate it made the whole thing feel more special.

Now. My table went wild for this. Hot Korean miso, kaffir cucumbers, crisp coating. They gushed. Me? I'm harder to please. It was good. The pickled cucumber alongside it was the best bit. But the most amazing fried chicken I've ever had in my life? No. It's a crowd pleaser, and I think that's very much the point of it.

In between came the cauliflower tempura with smoked kimchi mayonnaise and crispy curry leaves, and scallops with yuzu and sweetcorn. Both arrived, both were good, both got slightly lost in the sheer pace of the dishes landing. There's a lot coming at you on this menu.

Oh my God. This is it. This is the dish. Korean spiced black cod with sesame cucumbers, lacquered in a sticky citrus glaze that had every one of us going quiet for a second. Incredible. Sensational. This is exactly what I expect when I'm at a restaurant of this calibre and spending good money: something I couldn't easily get anywhere else. If you order nothing else at Lucky Cat, order this.

The egg fried rice with XO sauce and a slow cooked egg was mixed at the table and it was amazing. Properly amazing. Then the ribeye, cooked exceptionally well, good flavour, and a Thai chimichurri on the side that was fresh and herby and gave the steak a lift it would have missed otherwise. I can't fault it.

But was it any different to any other ribeye at any other high end restaurant in London? No. And I'm saying high end on purpose. It was beautiful and I'd eat it again, but I can eat steak anywhere.

Which brings me to a slightly cheeky theory. I think the Signature menu is built for men. Steak and fried chicken in the middle of a Japanese inspired tasting menu feels like a safety net for the person at the table who says they'd never choose sushi. And it works. Everyone leaves happy. But the top menu, Essence, swaps those for spiced lamb chops and Japanese A5 wagyu, and I bet those lamb chops are extraordinary. I'll have to go back to find out. Maybe.

To finish, a mango and sake cheesecake with white chocolate and shiso, set inside a delicate hard shell. Elegant, clean, a proper palate cleanser and exactly the kind of dessert I'd hope for at this level. Flavours were lovely and it's not something you'd stumble across on the high street. A very good way to end.

And yes, we were full. Very full. We did struggle towards the end but we finished everything, because that's how we roll. When the waiter came back to check if it had been enough, he did it with a big smile, and it was about the only personal, human moment he gave us all night. He'd earned it, to be fair.

Two things bothered me during the meal, and I'm going to name them because they matter.

First, plates were cleared while there was still food on them. Without asking. More than once. We were busy looking at the view, we looked back, and dishes had gone. Don't get me wrong, we were full and we probably didn't need it. But trust me, between the four of us we would have finished it, and nobody checked. At a restaurant this expensive, that's a basic.

Second, the noise. I've mentioned it already but it's worth repeating. The room is beautiful but it's hard and echoey, and on a busy Saturday it's loud enough that you're leaning in to hear each other. If you're planning a romantic dinner where you actually want to talk, bear that in mind.

We only knew about the terrace because Charlie had seen it on the documentary. Nobody mentioned it to us. We asked, and we were taken up after dinner.

Here's the deal. The Lucky Cat Terrace is a rooftop viewing platform and the only thing they serve is Whispering Angel. That's it. No full bar. Honestly, I think that's clever. You're selling one thing, everyone knows what it is, and the view does the talking. We shared a bottle at £110, no booking needed, we just asked, and watched the sun go down.

And the sunset was the best I have seen in the UK for a very, very long time. Sensational. The whole city turning gold and then pink, the river glowing, the Shard catching the last of the light. Either we were incredibly lucky or every sunset up there looks like that. I'd go back just for it.

But I have to be honest about the terrace itself. Fake grass. Cheap garden sofas with cushions. The kind of outdoor furniture you'd find in a garden centre sale. For a building this expensive, in a project that's clearly had a fortune spent on it, it felt like an afterthought. The view is doing all the work up there, and it can carry it, but a bit more thought would go a long way.

We paid the bill (£803.85 for four, including a 15 percent optional service charge of £104.85) and headed down, through a different lift at the back of the building and then the Bread Street Kitchen lift for the long drop from 59 to the ground. And this is my biggest issue with Lucky Cat. The exit.

Remember all those touch points on the way in? The doorman, the security team, the greeter, the lift host, the outfit compliment? On the way out there were none. Zero. You pay, you leave, and the only goodbye you get is a guy sitting by the door going bye guys. That's it. You've spent the best part of a thousand pounds and it feels like you've been spat out of the building. That's how we described it in the car, and I haven't found a better way of putting it since.

Luxury isn't the chandelier. It's how you feel when you walk out of the door. And walking out of Lucky Cat, we felt like a transaction that had been completed.

For transparency, because I always share the bill, here's exactly what we paid for four people on a Saturday evening in August 2026.

• 4 x Signature Menu at £135: £540.00
• 2 x Olifantsberg Old Vine Chenin Blanc at £72: £144.00
• 2 x Acqua Panna still water at £7.50: £15.00
• Subtotal: £699.00
• Optional service charge at 15 percent: £104.85
• Total: £803.85

Add the £110 bottle of Whispering Angel on the terrace and it's £913.85 for the evening, or just under £230 a head before taxis. It's a serious night out.

If the view is the point, go. Birthday, big anniversary, showing off London to visitors from abroad, a client dinner where the wow factor matters more than conversation: Lucky Cat will deliver the postcard moment, and the black cod and the sushi will back it up. Book the earliest slot you can get on a summer evening so you're on the terrace for sunset.

If the food is the point, I'd think carefully. The best dishes are excellent, but a lot of the Signature menu is food you can eat, very well, elsewhere for less. Order the suckling pig 48 hours ahead or go for the Essence menu if you want the dishes you can't get on the high street.

If the service is the point, if you're someone who goes out for how a place makes you feel, this isn't it. Not on our night, anyway.

• Book early. We waited four months for a Saturday slot and it was half past five.
• Look at the menu before you go. The suckling pig has to be pre ordered.
• The entrance is on the right hand side of 22 Bishopsgate as you face it. It's separate from the office lobby.
• Allow ten extra minutes for airport style security on the way in.
• Ask for a window table when you book, but don't panic if you don't get one. Most seats have a view.
• Say one bottle of water clearly, and watch what gets opened.
• Tell them to leave plates until you say. You're paying for every bite.
• Ask about the terrace. Nobody offered it to us. A bottle of Whispering Angel up there is £110 and you do not need to book.
• It's loud. Save the heart to heart for the taxi.
• Horizon 22, the free public viewing gallery in the same building, is a lovely daytime alternative if you want the view without the bill.

Yes. I would. And it isn't the straightforward yes you might expect, so let me explain it properly.

The room is beautiful. The view is the best in London, full stop. The Korean spiced black cod, the sushi and that cheesecake were everything I hoped for. The sunset from the terrace will stay with me for years.

But the question I always ask at this level is, could I eat this anywhere else? And for too much of the menu, the honest answer was yes. Add a waiter with no warmth, plates cleared without asking, a doubled water bill, a terrace furnished from a garden centre and a goodbye that felt like being turfed out, and the experience didn't live up to the building.

Lucky Cat leans on the view and the decor. Heavily. And we all know it's never just that. It's the food, the service, the touch points, the wine, the way you feel on the way out. Get all of those right and the view is the cherry on top. Get them wrong and the view is what people talk about instead.

So why would I go back? The suckling pig. I have thought about it ever since the waiter told us the price, and I want to be sat at that table with the whole thing in the middle of it, bao buns going round, the four of us getting stuck in. That is the meal I think Lucky Cat is actually built for, and we ordered the wrong thing.

And I would go back knowing exactly what to ask for this time. One bottle of water. Leave the plates until we say. Book the pig 48 hours ahead. Take us up to the terrace for sunset, because nobody will offer. Do all of that and it's a brilliant night out in a room you'll be thinking about for weeks. You just shouldn't have to know all of it in advance, and now you do.

Been to Lucky Cat 22 Bishopsgate? I'd love to hear whether your experience was different. Tell me in the comments.

I visited Lucky Cat 22 Bishopsgate on Saturday 22 August 2026 with Charlie, his cousin and his cousin's wife. The meal was entirely self funded, we booked as ordinary guests through the usual channels, and the restaurant did not know I was reviewing. Nothing was complimentary. All prices are taken from our bill on the night. Every photograph is my own.

Yes. Lucky Cat sits on Level 60 of 22 Bishopsgate in the City of London, which made it the highest restaurant in London when it opened in February 2025, taking the title from Duck and Waffle on the 40th floor of the nearby Salesforce Tower.

The set sharing menus are £105 (Journey), £135 (Signature) and £175 (Essence) per person, before drinks and a 15 percent optional service charge. Our bill for four on the Signature menu with two bottles of wine came to £803.85, or just over £200 a head.

There is no strict dress code but it is a smart, occasion led room and most guests dress up. Smart casual at the very least. The staff wear a beautiful silk blue shirt, if you want a benchmark.

Yes. Every guest goes through an airport style bag check and security gate on the ground floor before being taken up in the lifts. Allow an extra ten minutes.

The terrace is above the restaurant and you are taken up by the team. Nobody offered it to us, so ask. Whispering Angel rose is the only drink served up there, £110 a bottle, no booking needed, and the sunset views over London are outstanding.

Absolutely. We booked four months ahead and the only Saturday slot available was 5.30pm. Weekday and lunch slots are easier to find.

For me, the Korean spiced black cod. The sushi and sashimi selection and the mango and sake cheesecake were the other standouts. The GFC fried chicken and ribeye are crowd pleasers but not unique to Lucky Cat.

Yes, but it must be pre ordered 48 hours ahead and is priced at market rate, roughly £450 when we asked. The private dining room also offers a Feast menu at £185 per person that includes the pig.

For the view and a handful of dishes, yes. The service on our visit did not match what we paid, but I would still go back, and next time I would order the suckling pig. Read the full review above for the detail.