Here we go, crew. Here’s an easy one. You might have even heard this question posed in the Monocle orbit before. What is the worst thing a GM at a favourite hotel can say to you? As it’s early on a Sunday morning and all, let’s make this multiple choice. 

a)
“So good seeing you again. I know you’ve flown in long haul and as your room is not quite ready we’ve made arrangements for you to freshen up in our gym.”

b)
“What a delight to have you back with us. As you’ll see across the lobby, we’ve really been listening to our guests and decided to get rid of the bar to open the whole space up so that people can hang out more and treat this as their living room.”

c)
“Very nice to be welcoming you back. I am thrilled to say that not only is your room ready but you’re going to be the first to stay in one of our newly renovated suites. It’s the exact same room size as you’re used to but we’ve made a range of fresh enhancements and technology upgrades. We look forward to hearing your thoughts.”

While none of these are great welcomes, you can imagine that I’m not a fan of option c. When a hotel renovates, why do they not reserve 10 rooms or a floor for guests who like things just the way they are? Are they not aware that many people don’t need a bathroom with a porthole window into the bedroom to allow in daylight, or a lighting system that has three mood settings that never correspond with how you’re feeling after a conference call at 23.00 with a bunch of muppets, or the absence of a TV because “Everyone travels with their own screens these days.” On a recent trip to HK, I stayed at one of the city’s more famous landmark properties and was offered a new room that was a cross between a franchise branch of Ladurée, an upmarket Geneva dental clinic (famous for fleecing unsuspecting clients from Riyadh) and the opening title sequence of The White Lotus. Thankfully, I could check out without having to exchange niceties with management. But had the staffer on duty asked me about my stay, I would have said: “Until you realise that 97.5 per cent of your guests are not 27-year-old influencers from Shanghai or San Francisco, and redeploy some dark woods and a more mature colour palette, I’ll be staying elsewhere.”

The urge to innovate is a curious thing. In some sectors, it’s essential. Technology, ambitious competitors and a stable yet stale product demand investment to vault forward, stay relevant. But what if your business thrives because it’s simply solid and draws a crowd because it doesn’t surprise but comforts? Is it okay to stick with the lighting fixtures that the founders hung 100 years ago? Should the linen sheets be replaced with polycotton because easy-care bedding will trim €11,000 from the laundry bill?

On Friday, we set off from Zürich for St Moritz. The afternoon was devoted to family dental appointments and a little bit of advance party prep (we hosted our summer soiree at our Alpine shop and café last night). On the way up the mountain, with time on our side, I decided a sunny lunch at a favourite restaurant would be a perfect tone-setter for the weekend. I called the hotel and had them reserve a table. Some 90 minutes later, we pulled up, took the lift down a few levels and walked to the small woody restaurant that we’ve been going to for nearly three decades. Water and champagne were poured, menus distributed and we took in the view. Who on earth thought a bouncy castle, inflated to look like a bloated version of the hotel, was a good idea?

I had already decided I was going to have the steak tartare (medium spice) and a simple salad with French dressing. I didn’t really need the menu at this point but I thought that I’d look anyway. Hmmmm? There must be some pages missing, I thought. I didn’t recognise any of the dishes. Where was mom’s rösti with salmon? Was the potato waffel supposed to be the stand-in? Where were the classics? Had the same five-star consultants who told the Hong Kong management that “cirrus pistachio” was a colour for the future also sold this hotel on beef carpaccio with raspberry as a winning replacement for Swiss beef tartare? We managed to find our way but the manager could tell that it was a struggle to order and there was definitely a degree of embarrassment when chopsticks were lined up alongside the soup. 

At this point I surveyed the crowd, there were four to five people around 39 but everyone else was north of 75. This being the land of clinics, the real numbers were likely closer to 90. Were they enjoying seeing classics turned on their heads? From the murmurs at other tables, the innovation in the kitchen is no easy sell. It might well be that they know their current crowd won’t be with them much longer, so why not move with the times and bring in a new crowd?  Then again, why have a menu in the high Swiss Alps that could also be found in a nice lobby restaurant in Jakarta or Boston? Is it not better to stick with a taste of place rather than a set of dishes that kill off a once-loved favourite?

Enjoying life in ‘The Faster Lane’? Click here to browse all of Tyler’s past columns. 

Monocle's summer newspaper is about to hit the shelves, and is available to pre-order online now.

Inside, we sit down with Albanian prime minister Edi Rama, invite you to settle in for a drama-packed beach read by author Edward Chisholm and test your knowledge with a selection of puzzles. Plus: don’t miss our glossy 50-page supplement, featuring Monocle’s top-five stays from Malta to Merano, breezy menswear on Spain’s Costa Brava and much more.

Nick Jones doesn’t do soft openings (writes Oliver Guy). His much-anticipated Café Clement has already hosted the types of star-studded diners usually reserved for international film festivals. It’s also the flagship restaurant of St Clement hotel in the 180 Quarter, a vast city block just off the Strand that encompasses a members club, production studios, restaurants and a rotating roster of voguish cultural outlets.

It’s Jones’s first independent project since stepping down as Soho House CEO in 2022. The dining room exudes old-school glamour and is run by former River Café head chef Danny Bohan. His broadly European, all-day menu includes everything from Comté ravioli and lobster omelette with tarragon crème fraîche to roast duck with beef-dripping potatoes and St Clement sauce. Interiors designed by James Thurstan Waterworth draw on hallmarks of Jones’s extensive back catalogue: there is a serpentine, burgundy-hued stone floor inspired by 18th-century maps of the nearby Thames; deliberately careworn leather banquettes; and handmade lampshades, all assembled with a sense of the theatrical.
stclement.co.uk

You can read more about Nick Jones’s recent endeavours in London here.

Olive oil sommelier Sarah Vachon is the co-founder of Citizens of Soil, a small-batch olive oil producer based in London which sources from regenerative farmers across the Mediterranean. Here she chats about imaginative warm-weather recipes, her favourite London coffee shops and why she’ll always find her way back to Sicily.

Where do we find you this weekend?
It’s a rare one – I’m in London. The olive oil business often takes me to the Mediterranean, where I once lived and likely will end up again. I’ll be at 10 Cases in Covent Garden for small plates.

What’s on the breakfast table?
It’s often an omelette – no butter, just olive oil, salt, greens and goat cheese. As it’s summer, the table is usually filled with berries and melon. Then there’s bread with jam or grated tomato covered in olive oil. 

Where do you go for your caffeine fix?
I switch it up between Square Mile and Origin. To me, the best London coffee shops are Browns of Brockley in East Dulwich and Prufrock in Clerkenwell. I also like the Clerkenwell Kiosk in the St James’ Church Garden near our office and the team are regulars there too.

Talk us through your perfect summer’s day.
It has to be a beach day. Unlike people who go looking for a remote, isolated stretch of sand, I like the liveliness of one near a city or a vibrant village. 

What are you reading? Magazines or books?
I’ve just finished Unreasonable Hospitality by Will Guidara. It’s about applying aspects of hospitality and generosity to every aspect of business. Next up, I’ve got Harold McGee’s Nose Dive: A Field Guide to the World’s Smells. This is a key part of my life as an olive oil sommelier who’s constantly learning all things organoleptic (taste, smell, colour, texture).

What’s the plan for lunch – any favourite warm-weather recipes?
It’s all about what doesn’t require much heating. There are few things better than a watermelon or Greek salad. I’m also in love with Spanish cold soups such as fresh and vibrant gazpacho, porra Antequerana or salmorejo. Throwing beans, tomatoes and herbs such as dill or mint in a pool of extra virgin olive oil with feta is a filling way to pack in your protein and nutrition.

A drink that always reminds you of summer.
An olive oil spritz. 

We’re sending you away on a sunny weekend. Where are you going and why?
In the peak of summer, I like the crowds and chaos of Cefalù in Sicily. It doesn’t have the glamour of Taormina or the relaxing beaches of other parts of the island but I love that. 

Grilled scallops are a steady option for a quick but delicate starter. Monocle’s Japanese chef grills these on the barbecue to bring out that caramelised finish and adds soy sauce for an umami flavour.

Serves 4

Ingredients
4 scallops in their shells
2 garlic cloves
30g unsalted butter, softened
2 tsps light soy sauce
4 lemon wedges

Method
1.
Open and clean the scallops.

2.
Finely chop the garlic and add to the softened butter, mixing until combined.

3. 
Place the scallops in the shells and put a knob of the garlic butter on top of each. Set them directly on the grates, balancing with a piece of foil if the shells are wobbly. After 3 to 4 minutes, flip the scallops over within their shells and cook for another 3 to 4 minutes.

4. 
When the scallops are ready, the butter will bubble and the scallops turn opaque. Pour the soy sauce over each scallop and squeeze over a few drops of lemon juice. Serve straight away with the cooking juices in the shell.

Comporta, the fashionable beach destination 90 minutes south of Lisbon, was for years discreetly shaped by word of mouth (writes Gaia Lutz). First came the Portuguese Espírito Santo banking family, who owned much of the surrounding farmland from the 1980s through the 2010s. Then a small circle of their well-heeled invitees –including the likes of Jacques Grange and Christian Louboutin – eventually secured their own patches along this pristine, protected coastline. 

Comporta is no longer a secret but arriving here still feels as though you’re being let in on one. “At any beach, you can walk 200 metres and find yourself alone,” says Vasco Hipólito, co-owner of beloved beachside restaurant Sal. For some 14 years, Sal has remained the address for typical Portuguese seafood: “Sal was conceived as a space to host friends. It was and remains a familiar place,” says Hipólito. 

Hipólito is also a partner at Caju in nearby Carvalhal, a boutique stocking an elegant mix of clothing, jewellery and homewares from Portuguese and Brazilian brands. Pick up a patterned set by Rio de Janeiro label Parioca before heading back to Comporta for Soft Ground, the sixth edition of Fortes d’Aloia &