What's it like to eat in London's naked restaurant?

When the steak tartare with goji berry and cilantro arrives, my fellow diner and I gulp down the accompanying Argentinian Malbec and agree to get naked.

And it does turn out to be curiously liberating.

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Mostly it’s a relief. It’s very warm inside Bunyadi and a thick toweling robe starts to become uncomfortable after a while.

The darkness of the venue, the bamboo partitions and the strategically designed wooden furniture help maintain some dignity.

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