I tried Gordon Ramsay’s £75 bottomless brunch and the price tag wasn't even the worst part

When bottomless brunches burst onto menus a few years back, there seemed to be a collective penny-drop moment where people finally realised they could drink during the day.

Oblivious to the fact we’d already been allowed to do this... well, forever, the exciting prospect of all-you-can-drink booze in the high-stakes setting of a 90-minute time slot proved too much to resist, and it wasn’t long before bars and restaurants were dragging staff in to line up the 11am bellinis.

Indeed, punters have thrown themselves into it with frenzied abandon, having become instantly - and vocally - aware of exactly what they want: as much as possible, for as little as possible. This means a delicate balance of reasonable prices, decent timeframes and a strong selection to choose from.

This also means that Gordon Ramsay’s offering has a lot to live up to with its £75 price tag.

Lucky Cat Manchester (Lucky Cat)

What’s on the menu?

For his bottomless brunch menu at Asian-inspired Lucky Cat, with locations in London and Manchester, diners can wash down their prosecco with a choice of two courses, followed by an optional extra dessert platter at £10 per person.

Snacks (to share): salted edamame, Laos spring roll with chilli jam

Starter: vegetable tempura OR typhoon tofu salad

Rice bowl: crispy beef, xo, garlic OR teriyaki salmon, black vinegar, spring onion OR mushroom, nori, slow-cooked egg

Drinks: bottomless prosecco

Price: £75 per person (£85 with dessert)

There’s a distinct absence of breakfast staples like poached eggs and smoked salmon, which seems to be less about the restaurant's vaguely Asian concept, and more about the fact that a dedicated brunch menu doesn't actually exist: what's on offer is simply Lucky Cat’s midweek express lunch deal (£28 for two courses), repurposed – barely – by way of added bottomless prosecco. I’ll let you do the maths to work out how much those bubbles are costing you.

And if you’re someone who’d prefer beer or cocktails over sparkling Italian wine? Tough luck, as that’s all you’re allowed unless you're willing to fork out further.

Edamame and Laos spring roll (LADbible)

The good

Set within a cavernous former banking hall, the art deco grandeur of Manchester’s Lucky Cat is an obvious upgrade to the sticky floors of brunch deals elsewhere, with light streaming ethereally through the Grade II-listed space. The grown-up backdrop and earnest service pairs well for anyone keen to escape giddy scenes more often associated with a midday p**s-up, as demonstrated the day I visit by several tables of middle-aged women enjoying their regular top-ups of prosecco.

Of course, the upside to any set menu is that you’re able to enjoy settings like this with a price in mind; you go in knowing exactly how much you’ll spend, meaning you can enjoy the star power of the Ramsay name without paying the full premium you might for dinner service. That's not to say it’s necessarily good value, but at least you can avoid the trauma of the unknown.

To feel like you’re getting your money’s worth, however, the food still has to match the backdrop. The snacks were a nice enough start, taking the edge off with a pop of salted edamame and crunchy slivers of veg wrapped in rice paper.

Nothing new here, but no need to reinvent the wheel either. The fresh, punchy tofu salad starter also felt like a promising sign of things to come, only for the tempura to fall slightly flat with four modest slivers of deep-fried vegetables, piled onto patterned greaseproof that looked like it might convincingly furnish someone’s downstairs loo.

Typhoon tofu salad (LADbible)

Vegetable tempura (LADbible)

The bad

It’s hard not to ignore the hefty cost you’re facing with Lucky Cat’s bottomless brunch, considering it’s double what you’d pay elsewhere. It’s a surprise, then, when the biggest disappointment comes not from the price, but from the food itself.

While the veg tempura was just mildly underwhelming, the rice bowls that followed were actively depressing. The glossy promotional images of Instagram soon dissipated into a sad reality that was miserable to look at, and even more miserable to consume. Anyone wanting to recreate the experience at home – though I’d be surprised if they did - wouldn’t do badly by microwaving a pouch of Ben’s Original and stirring a tin of sweetcorn through it, topping it all off with quite literally whatever's about to go off in the fridge.

As I take a bite of the crispy chilli beef, I'm reminded of something that I can’t quite put my finger on, only to eventually realise it’s a bag of pork scratchings – and bad ones at that. The takeaway staple isn’t exactly known for its abundant meat content, sure, but those promo shots hint at large hunks of protein that never materialise. What didn't help is that the xo sauce, while tasty enough, also disappears after two bites, meaning you’re left to chew emotionlessly through the pile beneath in a desperate attempt to get your money’s worth.

(Lucky Cat/LADbible)

The mushrooms, while better, weren’t exactly exciting either. They benefitted from a slow-cooked egg to provide brief respite from the dry rice - who knew moisture could feel like such a luxury? - but beyond that, it's hard not to feel fleeced. Aside from the pleasant perk of the lightly-pickled shimeji, everything else looked like it had been dragged around on the kitchen floor before being plated up.

(Lucky Cat/LADbible)

The verdict

By the time the mains are finished, you’re practically jumping out of your seat to pay the extra tenner for dessert, just to taste something that isn't rice and sweetcorn. And, actually, the platter delivers well, making £85 feel somehow more justified than the cheaper two-course alternative. That said, at this point you’ll be so full from attempting to get as much bang from your buck as possible that you'll be hard-pressed to polish off the cute, miniature serves of desserts from the a la carte menu, piled up in a nice bowl scattered with berries and slices of pineapple - a theatrical, if formidable, end.

Was the dessert platter enough to save it? (LADbible)

(LADbible)

The issue is not that people won’t pay £75 for bottomless brunch, because in the right setting and context, they might. But they can be forgiven for expecting more from an experience that many will have saved up for, or treated loved ones to. After all, by dragging the midweek lunch deal out from its weekend lie-in, it sends a message that brunch at Lucky Cat isn't an occasion, it's an afterthought.

The same goes for the drinks, too. Even if logic suggests Ramsay's chain might feel wary of churning out cocktails en masse, or resorting to pre-mixed drinks, we know that lesser industry giants have been able to make it work without issue, making the prosecco-only rule a bit of a farce. Good luck to all those servers who have to enforce it with a smile on their face...