Let me tell you about an Orlando restaurant that’s like no other. It’s called Immersion. It’s located inside another restaurant—one that’s off limits to nearly all of us. Every meal has more than a dozen courses—each so artistically plated that gawking is half the fun. Kapow! Kapow! Plate after plate. As for taste? All ranged from “Oh that’s good” to inspiringly delicious. No flops. Note: Technically the name is Immersion at London House by Chef Rikku.
Immersion Restaurant’s Chef Rikku Ó’Donnchü bringing two Book of Truffles courses to the table
You can’t see Immersion Restaurant at London House Orlando from the street, it has no website, and I’m not sure an ad for it will pop up on your Facebook feed. It’s kinda hush-hush. So here’s your chance to peek behind the discreet wooden door.
Golden Egg. This course involved foie gras, red miso, an egg yolk, cherry and a croissant. At some point a giant egg-looking item was cracked right onto the plate. It tasted great but the dish looks prettier without it.
Immersion is a pop-up, petite, boutique, gourmet extravaganza. It’s located inside London House, a members-only all-day restaurant located along Orlando’s Restaurant Row. Assuming they’re accepted into the club, people pay $7,500 to join, $10,000 per couple, plus $15,000 or $20,000 annually.
But that’s not relevant, because Immersion has no cover fee. Your only expense will be the price of the meal, $345 to $495, more for paired wines alongside—which, honestly, are worth it. The wines are exceptionally good. Add an Uber fee into your budget, please; do not drive home after that many excellent wines.
Between courses, you’ll be free to mosey around the parent restaurant. You’ll have pledged in writing not to take pictures, and that’s fair; London House members might be bigwigs who’d like privacy. But snoop away; it’s part of the fun.
Mosaic: swordfish with “chive tigers milk” and sevruga caviar
How an Immersion at London House Orlando Dinner Begins
British chef Rikku O’Donnchu is the culinary power behind Immersion. Time in several Michelin-starred kitchens has shown him how to add details beyond just crazy-fun food to the experience. And so, once you enter the foreboding door and sign a legal form promising to keep your camera tucked away, you’ll be walked to a drawing room—like in the movies. Tufted leather sofas, flickering fire, gilt-framed portraits of military men, plus live music.
The drawing room of Immersion Restaurant at London House Orlando
After this, I can only tell you about my experience, which was a preview for members of the media. The chef will change things up monthly, so you’ll be treated to different foods, drinks and details.
Sweet cocktails in test tubes. They set the tone for the evening’s upcoming experimentation.
After guests hobnobbed in the drawing room for a bit, Chef Rikku joined us. He stood behind the small corner bar and invited us, one at a time, to dip a basil leaf onto dry ice, pinch our nostrils together, place the basil leaf in our mouths, then release the nose and taste the herb. That, he explained, was Step 1 in “engaging the senses throughout the evening.” Step 2 was sipping cocktails served in test tubes.
Chef Rikku Ó’Donnchü holding basil that had been on dry ice
Then the group walked together to one of London House’s many small private rooms. Ours happened to be clubby; another group’s was a brighter, less formal space.
These breadsticks looked 100 percent like cigars.
A server holding a cigar box greeted us at the door. (Actually, I learned later she is Immersion’s Chef de Cuisine, Alexandria Krommes.) She invited each of us to choose a cigar, only—ta-da!—the cigar was really bread that looked exactly like a cigar. At the table, another server brought a smoky glass canister, then took off the top to let the aromatic smoke waft out. Inside was a black garlic butter dip sprinkled an orange-colored spice. It looked like a used ashtray. We swiped the cigar, took a bite … it tasted phenomenal.
Here’s the black garlic butter that looked like ashes.
Re the “some … spice.” Be chill please. Plenty of specifics are MIA. I was eating, drinking, snapping, listening to the chef and taking notes all at once. I’m writing this to give you a solid idea about what type of adventure to expect at Immersion Restaurant at London House Orlando.
The Meal Proceeds
Dim lights. Chilled champagne. References that there will be a red and blue theme throughout the night. (I never picked up on how that played out, although tiny bottles of a sugary beverage labeled “Drink me,” a la Alice in Wonderland, sat quietly near each guest, and we were asked to sip them later on.)
I had a whole lot of good food after that, but the next course was definitely my favorite. It was called Tea & Biscuits. Servers placed old-fashioned Syracuse China teacups and saucers in front of us. A mound of “truffled caviar” covered in gold leaf was in the bottom of the cup. A tempura-fried shishito leaf sat on the saucer. Then a server poured white miso soup over that little combo stone of luxury foods. The soup was so rich I’m still full four days later. The flavor was so spot-on I would happily have strolled out the door and felt satisfied.
White miso soup with truffle, caviar and a tempura-fried leaf
But wait, there’s more.
I’ll run through the rest more quickly here. I missed a lot of what the chef said to describe each dish, but heard “truffle” and “caviar” lots more. The Book of Truffles course was served inside a fake hardbound book. Inside: a course of truffle, gruyere, miso and truffle again—a generous paper-thin sheet sliced at the table.
While not my favorite dish, Barnacle was super-fun looking. It was actually a small hand roll, topped with fish eggs of course, served on a scenic bed of seaweed. Oh get this! An employee dashed over and sprayed an “ocean mist” scent over the table. How’s that for setting the ambiance?
The fun did not let up. A huge crab shell covered Shell on Earth, an offering with “smoked emulsion” and wasabi. On pebbles. Lift the shell to discover a spoonful’s worth of snapper crudo (raw chopped fish) in a bowl resembling half an oyster shell. Somehow the presentation was suddenly surrounded by dramatic smoke. Worth a standing ovation!
Take a look at this video to see the whole show.
Two eggs, one big, one small, were the intro to course number 5,624. (I lost count.) Eggs & Seeds, Same Thing? turned out to be pompano with beet inside one egg, plus trout roe. I’m not even sure what it was, but I ate it all.
On a square slate plate, … well honestly at this point I can’t match all my photos to the menu descriptions, so take a look, and know that Mosaic had swordfish, Golden Egg foie gras and cherry … go with it.
Ooey Gooey Goes Gourmet
Until Open a Can of Worms. That’s mealworm you see there, seeming all squiggly. The edible dirt below involves blood sausage, shemiji mushrooms, and the Korean cooking paste gochujang. Oh get this: It showed up in what looked like an unadorned tuna can. Did I eat it? Of course, especially since they kept pouring the wine.
Open a Can of Worms, mealworms with gochujang, shimeji mushrooms and blood sausage
Which leads us to Matsusaka, a presentation inspired by cherry blossoms and involving Matsusaka beef. Each guest gets to choose a so-called steak knife. Look at mine. So much fun.
Steak’s served. Time for sweets? No sirree. Here we have Winged Pharaoh. It’s described as Egyptian goose. The side was curried cauliflower with raisins. That side was perhaps the only weak link. The goose, now that I liked, especially with the lavender sauce poured on. See that little Brussels sprout on the plate? It’s actually cabbage, rolled around chopped goose.
Winged Pharoah, Egyptian goose, curry, cauliflower, raisins and a lavender sauce.
Pani Puri, ivory orbs, were Chef Rikku’s interpretation on pizza. Bread, taleggio cheese, smoke, and “platinum osetra”—more caviar.
Pani Puri, which Chef Rikku likened to pizza. It’s bread topped with Taleggio cheese and caviar
That’s not drugs, that capsule in the next photo. It’s an edible powder that starts off the Red Pill or the Blue Pill, a dessert that ultimately involved hibiscus, raspberry and candied pineapple, in the form of a dippable lollipop. It tasted like sherbet.
Skulls showed up next. Lift off the top and see … brains. These jiggly little organs were really the Italian pudding called panna cotta, colored with beet root then injected—yes with a syringe—with lemon-ginger syrup, and then topped with an eponymous “Blood Clot” syrup.
For the grand finale, as if we needed one: Levitate. We went into the kitchen and watched the chef make a cloud of what looked like floating Mr. Bubble. The flavors: bamboo, white chocolate, matcha. It was plated dramatically with all that vibrant green. Do you think we were too full to eat it? Yes we were. And we cleaned our plates.
Hey guys, Mother’s Day is coming up. Hey ladies, Father’s Day is next. Then Christmas. If you’re the type to splurge, here’s a gift she/he/they can’t get anywhere else. Click here to make a reservation or visit https://www.sevenrooms.com/reservations/immersionatlondonhouse.