I had lunch at London's naked restaurant that has a waiting list of over 40,000 people - here's the verdict
Chloe Pantazi/Business InsiderThe inside of the restaurantI'm not a naturist. I've never sunbathed topless or visited a nude beach. I don't even walk around the gym changing room undressed.
And yet, here I am, sitting completely naked eating vegan food in a cubicle with two strangers somewhere in central London.
I'm at The Bunyadi, the city's first nude pop-up restaurant that opens to the public today (Saturday, June 11).
Since the pop-up was announced in April, 46,000 people have applied for tickets, which cost £69 each. But The Bunyadi, open in a secret location for three months, only fits 42 people at a time.
The idea is that everything is naked - from the decor to the food, made with raw ingredients and cooked naturally. There's no electricity and no phones.
It's a place to "experience true liberation," Seb Lyall, the restaurant creator and founder of the pop-up company Lollipop, said in a press release.
Business Insider went to a press lunch at The Bunyadi to see what it's like.
The experience
When I arrive, the foyer is packed with people in white bathrobes. A man hands me a robe and slippers, and directs me to a small changing room. I undress behind a curtain and put on the gown, stuffing my clothes and bag in a locker.
At the bar, a smattering of nervous-looking journalists sit in robes knocking back cocktails. While a few people talk to each other, most frown at their phones. Occasionally, a tattoo-covered waiter - naked, except for a pair of beige briefs adorned with fig leaves - rushes in and out of the room.
One of the few fully dressed people there, Seb Lyall asks for the room's attention and welcomes us to the restaurant. Although nudity is optional, he says, "about 80% of customers do de-robe," before reminding us that we're not allowed anything with us in the room.
Without time to dash to my locker, I leave my iPhone behind the bar, and join the dining room queue, where I make conversation with a couple behind me.
A waitress - topless, in the same uniform as her male counterpart - appears from behind a black curtain, and leads the three of us into the restaurant.
Behind the curtain, the restaurant is illuminated by candles dotted about the floor and walls, and divided into mini-rooms formed by bamboo screens, with a small white curtain hanging in the doorway for privacy.
Arriving at our cubicle, we sit on stools at a wooden table laid with clay tableware and a candle. Initially, we keep our robes on, and for perhaps 10 minutes - without my phone, I've no way of keeping time - the conversation is somewhat staggered. But soon enough, the small talk gives way to discussions about travel, food, even politics.
The food
The first course on both menus (the table agrees to try the vegan and non-vegan versions) is a garden salad with pickled apple, salted cucumber, radish, and a "forbidden fruit," along with a cold soup. The appetiser is designed to evoke the Garden of Eden, our waitress explains. I drink the soup, which is like fruit juice, in one go, but I'm not keen on the salad. Though it tastes fresh, I don't enjoy that I can barely see my food.
Next, the waitress brings asparagus, salted almonds, pickled red onion, and watermelon; the non-vegan option is a cured salmon and seaweed salad with whipped spirulina mayonnaise. While the non-vegan mayo and salmon are slimy, the asparagus and watermelon in the vegan dish are deliciously savoury yet sweet.
By now, it's stifling hot in the room, thanks to the thick robes and the lack of air conditioning. The three of us agree to take off our robes, and we count down, "3, 2, 1," before untying our gowns.
As well as a wave of relief from the heat, I feel hyper-aware of my nakedness. I make a conscious effort to sit up straight and hold my shoulders back. (It turns out, eating in front of people naked does wonders to one's posture.) I'm also now grateful for the darkness, which mostly covers me. Though I certainly can't forget I'm naked, I soon begin to relax and focus on the food.
The main is a goji-berry, coriander Steak Tartare with basil and wild nettle oil, while the vegan alternative is sun-dried tomato stuffed courgette flowers with cauliflower couscous and seaweed flakes. With this meal, I discover as my spoon breaks, the cutlery's edible (up until now, I've been eating with a cocktail stick). I enjoy the fruity berry flavour in the Steak Tartare, but find the vegan dish bland.
The first of two desserts, a "sweet and salt seasonal forage," is like eating a messy fruit salad, and I struggle with a slice of blood orange that still has the rind on. However, the second dessert - blackberries, coconut and chia mousse with raw crumble ;- is my favourite. The coconut's wonderfully fresh, and the mushy berries combined with biscuity crumble creates a lovely texture.
The verdict
At £69 a head (not including wine), The Bunyadi is an expensive dinner - especially if you're going for the food, which feels secondary to the experience of being naked.
Though the restaurant's back-to-basics theme is a bit pretentious - I don't quite feel like Eve in the Garden of Eden, and the clay cups ruin the taste of good wine - being without my phone and clothes feels rather liberating. While I'd just met the people I shared a nude lunch with, I feel I can express myself more frankly than if I were at a regular restaurant. But I'm not sure if this is because I'm naked or because I don't have my iPhone.
Either way, it's an interesting social experiment, one that I was initially reluctant to take part in but that now fills me with a sense of achievement, as someone who's often self-conscious about her body. Although I'm not going to become a nudist - or a vegan - anytime soon, the experience has made me more comfortable in my skin.