The Bellevue Hotel

Gotta be one of the best experiences in a Philly hotel. It has the best gym/sports club I have ever seen, excellent breakfast, and prompt service from staff. We’ll be back.

From the food the offer, to the service and amazing staff, to the rooms (WOW) to the gym (unbelievable) you have to stay here

The hotel was nice, good people all round we came to see Ghana games. Jerry the valet manager was very nice to us pointed some African restaurant to us. We will surely visit the Hotel again in the future.

This review is not about the hotel itself but rather the Mr. Edison restaurant that is inside of the hotel. These are my personal observations from a single visit to Mr. Edison during their opening week. Every restaurant deserves time to find its footing — this is simply an honest account of one evening. Philadelphia has been buzzing about Mr. Edison since before it opened its doors on June 25th inside the historic Bellevue Hotel in Center City. The social media campaign was convincing enough that we decided to find out for ourselves whether the hype had any substance. The first surprise came before we even arrived — securing a Friday night reservation at what was being positioned as the city's most anticipated new opening required almost no effort at all—no waitlist, no scramble, no callbacks. Maybe we got lucky. We were seated the moment we walked in. Whether that reflects an efficient reservation system or softer-than-expected demand this early, it's difficult to say. What isn't difficult to say is that the room made an immediate and undeniable impression. The design is exceptional. Whoever was responsible for it made bold, confident choices and spent the money to back them up. The bar alone commands attention. The aesthetic leans deep into a Prohibition-era speakeasy mood — moody lighting, rich materials, intimate corners, a live band anchoring the energy of the space. It's romantic, transporting, and genuinely evocative in the way that only a few rooms in this city manage to be. You feel like you've stepped out of Philadelphia and into something cinematic. As an opening statement, the room says everything right. Then we ordered cocktails from the signature menu. They arrived forty minutes later. For a bar this beautiful, forty minutes is not a delay — it's a contradiction. When the drinks finally landed, there was a brief moment of confusion among the servers about who had ordered what. Minor, but telling. And the cocktails themselves did little to justify the wait. Mediocre at best, and one had to be sent back entirely. At this price point, in a room built around a bar, the cocktail program is supposed to be one of your strongest arguments. Right now, it isn't making one. The menu arrives in an envelope — a theatrical touch that fits the room — and unfolds across four pages. Appetizers run $28 to $30: deviled eggs, tuna carpaccio, beet salad, grilled broccolini, poached shrimp, lobster tortellini. The issue isn't whether these dishes are executed well. The issue is what they're asking you to believe. Deviled eggs are a perfectly fine thing to eat. They are not a $28 thing to eat — not unless they've been reimagined in a way that makes you reconsider everything you thought you knew about deviled eggs. These had not been. If I want deviled eggs, I know exactly where to get them, and I won't need to justify the check afterward. Before our entrées arrived, the kitchen sent out a complimentary gesture — deviled eggs and Korean oysters. For a table of six, they brought four of each. If you're going to make a move toward hospitality, the math has to work. Four pieces for six people isn't generosity. It's an afterthought dressed up as one. The entrée page crosses the $80 threshold and struggles to justify it. Half duck, veal chops, whole roasted chicken, Chilean sea bass, whole dorade, New York strip — a menu searching for an identity it hasn't found yet. Steakhouse? Seafood destination? European brasserie? The answer appears to be all three, which delivers the conviction of none. I have paid over $100 for a steak before and would do it again, without hesitation, when the experience demands it. The last time that standard was met for me was at Alinea in Chicago and Daniel in New York — rooms where every dollar on the check is earned in precision, in memory, in flavor that stays with you long after you've left the table. By no means am I trying to compare Mr. Edison to restaurants of that caliber. What I am saying is that Mr. Edison is charging like it is one. And that is a very different problem. Or perhaps Mr. Edison never intended to be in that category — and if that's the case, then the prices on this menu need a serious conversation with the kitchen that's producing them. The Chilean sea bass came in at $90, described on the menu as sufficient for two. It was not sufficient for one. That is not a portion. That is a problem. The service staff is large, clearly committed, and visibly still finding its footing. This is a structural observation, not a personal one — opening a restaurant at this level requires training that takes time, and some of that time hasn't happened yet. The floor moved with energy that hadn't quite found its direction. These things can improve, and in fairness, they have only been open for a few days. The bill arrived last, with a 20% service charge already applied — no options, no alternatives, no conversation. Mandatory gratuity at that level is common practice for parties of eight or more. We were six. I have no objection to tipping 20%. I do it willingly when a meal earns it. But when the cocktails took forty minutes, when a $90 dish left a single diner still hungry, and when the kitchen sent four bites to a table of six, a non-negotiable 20% with no acknowledgment is a tone-deaf way to close an evening. Was there a wow factor? A dish that stopped the table, a drink that demanded a second round, a moment worth texting a friend about the next morning? No. Not one. The menu is safe to the point of being boring, the food is above average to the point of being forgettable, and the drinks are unremarkable at best. There is nothing here I would recommend to a friend, nothing I would return for, and nothing that justifies what this restaurant is asking you to spend. A beautiful room deserves better than what's coming out of the kitchen right now. So do the guests walking into it. They have the room. Now they need to build the restaurant.

Left a sour taste on my mouth. As a businessman traveling and a CFO for a firm, the Manager who’s Bald and has a British Accent was extremely rude and condescending, Amir and David was first class to hospitality. I would not recommend my staff and my team to go to this hotel. Let’s just say if a CFO gets a treatment like this Imagine for normal people. I’m a part of Susquehanna International Group. We are 868 Billion asset management. Please be informed promptly.