I suppose the Algonquin is an obvious pilgrimage for anyone with a fascination for the 1920s, but it certainly didn’t disappoint. The ambience conjured everything I imagined of a legendary literary bolthole and more importantly my White Russian was delicious, accompanied by superb bar snacks and delivered to me by a most solicitous and engaging pair of waiters. The place managed to make me feel like it was me who was the famous guest - the kind of sensation that will have me going back for more.
