I’d be ticked off if I was in the marketing group and was pulled down to pretend to be eating fine dining food…and then have to go back to my desk and deal with the sad-looking tuna salad sandwich I had actually brought for lunch. 
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This sounds horrific. £250 per head for this torture?!?!
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Everything that’s wrong with the restaurant business, IMO. And Gracie disses something by saying it could be Hartley’s Jelly. I take personal offence and have to defend my name’s honour. 
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By the by, I also read the review, by someone I’ve never heard of in today’s Observer. He raves about a new restaurant near me, Cantaloupe in Stockport. It’s on our to try list. But, almost every phrase of praise put me right off it. We’ll still go of course - if only to confirm that the reviewer is an arsewipe.
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Spite dining! Maybe you can start a new trend 
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Satire or mockery of the vaunted tasting menu. Might signal peak tasting menu has been reached.
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This entire experience is a huge no. Cash-rich twenty-somethings with little sense are getting ripped off. Bleah.
This at the end sounds right: “really only does one rankling thing, and that’s taking diners’ phones and locking them in a box for safekeeping. Clearly this is to preserve the magic of the journey, although a cynic might say that there’s so little substance to the staging of dinner here that Instagram scrutiny would kill it stone dead in two weeks.”
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Torture is the key word … my idea of hell “meal.”
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