There’s something undeniably exciting about a restaurant residency. The impermanence of it all, knowing it will no longer be there in a couple of months, feeling as though you’re taking part in some sort of exclusive underground dining movement that is not quite radical but certainly not mainstream.
I say that. Som Saa has received a review from Fay Maschler in the Evening Standard, which is about as mainstream as it gets. But that doesn’t detract from the thrown together, off-the-cuff charm of it all.
I’d never heard of Climpson’s Arch before hearing about Som Saa. Probably because it’s a working coffee roastery right out in the sticks of east London, next to London Fields train station (not tube or even overground, an actual National Rail train station - far).
What’s particularly exciting though, is that it’s fully licensed, has a grill and wood-fired oven out in the partly covered yard space, a kitchen built into a shipping container, tables inside under the railway arch adorned with fairy lights, and occasionally moonlights as a venue for young chefs to showcase their talents.
When chefs and restaurateurs want to create a dining experience, but aren’t quite at the stage of settling at a permanent site, they’ll take up residency for a limited amount of time in a place that’s ready to roll as soon as they arrive. In this case, we have Andy Oliver, previously at Nahm (voted no.1 restaurant in Asia) and Bo.Lan in Bangkok, and Tom George, a manager from Goodman in Mayfair. Their intention is to bring the cooking of northern and north-eastern Thailand (the area known as Isaan), to us lucky Londoners. And lucky we certainly are.
Get the tube to Bethnal Green and walk north for around 20 minutes, or get a train from Liverpool Street three stops until you arrive at London Fields. Allow Google maps to instruct you from here along quiet roads and under railway bridges, as thoughts flit between I can’t wait to eat this food and am I going to get mugged if I keep parading my phone.
You’ll then either hear or smell Som Saa before you see it. Follow the murmur of music and a convivial atmosphere, or the aromas of shrimp paste and lime searing against hot metal, and you’ll soon find yourself outside a venue that by day, you wouldn’t bat an eyelid at.
The menu is brief but confident, with a handful of bar snacks, a couple of salads, four small plates, three large and one choice for dessert. Flavours are big and bold and a glorious ode to all things we love about Thai food - the salt, sour, sweetness and heat. Astringent and aromatic nectar, full of the flavours of lemongrass, garlic, coriander, shrimp paste, ginger and chillies, pool at the sides of the plates. Liquor so good that leaving a drop should come with a police caution.
The heat from the green papaya salad is penetrative rather than eye-watering, a gradual climb across the tongue to the back of the throat that will release as a little cough or hiccup. It’s wonderful, get it (£8.50).
The whole deep fried seabass, crisp and curved like the crescent of the moon, is covered in Isaan herbs and comes with roasted rice, the soft flesh a joy to peel away from the big bones of the spine (£14).
The fish also appears cured with citrus under ‘bar snacks’, with lemongrass, kaffir lime and mint, ready for wrapping in the glossy betel leaves they’re delivered on, zippy little parcels that go down barely touching the sides (£5). Grilled pork neck with chilli, lime and garlic was as dreamy as it reads (£8), and the sweet flesh of the salt roasted prawns were a great excuse to get the fingers dirty and suck on some crustacean heads (£8).
There was also a palm sugar ice cream with turmeric grilled banana which had a great warming depth (£4.50). Things that continue to flirt with me from the menu I stowed away in my bag and took home: Isaan hot and sour soup with duck leg; Northern style pork belly curry with pickled garlic and ginger; grilled fermented pork with peanuts, chill and cabbage.
There’s corrugated metal panels, a concrete floor, exposed pipes and ducts, and what seems to be a load of industrial paraphernalia stored towards the back of the space, beyond the seating - it is a coffee factory after all. But there’s also communal dining tables, Arcade Fire on in the background, a cracking wine list, standout service and some seriously good vibes.
Som Saa is so far east from where I live that it might as well be in Germany. But it’s also so good that I’m pretty certain I’ll be back. It runs until at least early 2015, with no set end date of yet. Just turn up as there’s no reservations - open Thursday to Sunday from 6pm with brunch at the weekends. See you there.
(P.S. Please excuse the shoddy photography. I turned up without my proper camera as I had little intention to write this up due to the time constraints of a hectic work schedule. But then it was really good, so I had to. The snaps are from my crappy camera phone.)
Liked lots: Huge flavours, great vibes, fantastic service
Liked less: Please be closer to where I live
Good for: Impressing your mates with your knowledge of London’s alternative dining scene; eating what is arguably some of the best Thai food in town
4/5
Afiyet olsun.
The only thing standing between me and a tantalising, cosmopolitan, six-course feast cooked and hosted by some of London’s finest supper club chefs on a brisk evening in late February, was the 1 hour and 45 minute journey on public transport to get to it.
Clapton may as well be as far as Manchester for those of us residing towards the bottom of the Northern Line, but with the promise of an East vs. West tasting menu for the press launch of the Flavour Expats Pop-up series at the other end, I needed little convincing to contend with a tube line change or three.
Rob and Fabio - the dynamic duo behind Italian/Spanish supper club stalwart Backdoor Kitchen - have collaborated with Edible Experiences (the food and drink experience booking platform) to bring together 14 chefs with culinary roots stretching across the globe in this East London-based pop-up project.
The premise is this: in the large airy space above iconic Hackney corner shop Palm2, a different pair of chefs (representing Team East and Team West) battle it out each night by serving up three courses from their home-country to a group of hungry patrons. Diners enjoy six dishes from two different cuisines in one evening and the series lasts for seven nights between 8th March and 12th April.
The press event menu revealed a snapshot of some of the food to be enjoyed over the series, with six of the participating chefs each cooking a single dish that evening.
First up, tempura squid salad with aonori (seaweed), punchy wasabi mayo and a cracking dressing. Platter after platter furnished the long communal dining table; battered baby octopuses with cute tentacles were gobbled down, barely touching the sides. Team East's first entry was by Erica from Hackney-based Japanese mobile kitchen Tacochu with expertise in Taco Rice, a Japanese/Tex-Mex hybrid straight out of Okinawa.
Mae’s mussels cooked in coconut milk with turmeric, leek and shrimp paste were hot and saucy and capable of blasting away even the most fuzzy of February colds; such were their addictive quality, my plate of shells soon spilled out onto a second. Pepe’s Kitchen - Mae’s supper club serving up traditional Filipino fare - waved the second flag hard for Team East.
Then there were individual plates of coconut and spinach dhal topped with a gathering of Mauritian vindaye poisson; tasty chunks of trevally cooked in a turmeric and mustard seed marinade and sporting a flourish of deep pink pickled onions. We had Selina from Taste Mauritius (aka Yummy Choo) to thank for a very pleasing third course and the final Team East entry for the evening. I’ve written some words in the past about Selina feeding me with great food at one of her Mauritian pop-ups and a dinner recently hosted in collaboration with Great British Chefs.
Now to the west, starting with Australia (which I suppose is as much west as it is east from this part of the globe). Alex - one half of the private catering and supper club duo at The Pickled Fork - had us diving head-first into two steaming-hot behemoths of kangaroo pie. Steak simmered for four hours in a mirepoix (the French term for a mix of chopped celery, onions and carrots - yes, Alex had to explain this to me) with Guinness, finished with Worcestershire sauce and topped with a flaky crust, the pies gave way to a whole lot of tender meat fawning.
Supper club host and private caterer Ian (aka The Candlestick Maker) waved the red and white flag for Old Blighty with a striking and architectural dessert that had the room cooing with glee. Spiced poached pears, chocolate foam and vanilla meringue shards were a coming together of several accomplished components with stellar presentation, and it tasted great too.
The closing plate for the night was a basil gelato with strawberry coulis and pistachios, the product of organiser Rob from The Backdoor Kitchen. Cooling and fragrant, it wrapped the evening up with a pretty bow leaving us to roll down the flight of stairs leading to the street and began our journeys home.
Tickets for the six courses each evening are £35 and can be purchased via the Edible Experiences website where you’ll find further details of the dates and chefs taking part. The dinners are also BYOB. Gather your crew, saunter on over to Hackney, and taste your way around the globe in a single evening.
My rating: 3.5/5
Afiyet olsun.
NB I was invited as a guest to review this event.
It’s Chinese New Year today. An observation difficult to miss what with the press coverage, fireworks, liberal references to ‘galloping’ over the year’s threshold (it’s that of the horse), and a heightened buzz about all the Chinatowns of the world as preparations for festivities and feasting are in full swing.
Whilst Chinese New Year is well-represented across the globe, it is probably less commonly known (at least, I didn’t know) that today is also Tết, Vietnamese New Year. It’s the most important of the country’s annual festivities and falls on the same day as the Chinese celebrations as it is based on their calendar.
By a very well-placed coincidence and with no prior knowledge of what Tết was, myself and some friends happened to have long-overdue spaces secured at Uyen Luu’s Vietnamese Supper Club for this very evening - happy new year indeed.
With around 29 guests packed into the long and narrow living room of Uyen’s East London home and with the help of an assistant, the evening saw our tables furnished with signature light and fragrant plates - slow-cooked meats, fresh vegetables and some bites packing powerful chilli punches.
Summer rolls were large, fat and firm; the taught translucent rice paper skin partially concealing plump prawns. A crisp and vibrant cross-section - green from cockscombe, perilla, garlic chives, mint and coriander - revealed itself after the first bite. One of these dipped into the pineapple and chilli sauce was light enough to sit very eloquently atop my meat-heavy lunch, and I was very grateful for it.
If it being Tết meant this was my annual opportunity to get my chops around some Vietnamese New Year sticky rice cake (banh chung), then thank crikey for the timing, because whilst it didn’t look especially promising, this was my favourite plate. Served with mung bean, pork belly, thick soy, Vietnamese sausage and pickled leeks, the flavours were strong and unafraid to give you a shake by the jowls. Not to mention the glutinous rice, soft meat and crunchy pickles providing a great texture combination.
Tender slithers of rump steak cooked with lemongrass and tightly wrapped in betal leaves with a peanut sauce were slender fingers of savoury satisfaction, and the zesty salad platters of carrot, cucumber, mint, poached prawns and pork belly were vibrant, vivid and full of vitality.
A combination of soft pork and prawn manipulated around the end of a stick of sugar cane had all the novelty (to those not already acquainted with these) of a grown up lollipop. The meat is eaten first, followed by mastication (but not consumption) of the cane to extract the sweet juices. My Taiwanese companion has tried a lot of these and declared at the table with full conviction, ‘these are the best I’ve ever had’.
The meat of the slow-cooked pork belly in coconut water was a little tough, but the fat was buttery and rich, served with pickled lotus stems with a pixie-like beauty in their miniature seven-holed cross sections. Their fibre can be pulled into strings as fine as spider silk with your teeth, as demonstrated by the Taiwanese in the know (the rest of us were squealing like the kids with lollipops we were).
A chicken and bamboo noodle soup had wonderful soft meat and a delicate, refreshing broth - the tiny slices of red chillies served on a side plate were fruity and hot enough to blow the top of your head off and melt the contents, like a soft boiled egg.
To cool the tongue, an avocado and coconut sorbet. A novel flavour and one that grows with every spoonful - at first interpreted as frozen salad. But the fatty creaminess of avocado is in fact a great medium for a dessert expected to have similar qualities. It worked really well - I’d like to have this again. The little ginger biscuits were excellent and I shoved another three in my mouth that were sitting in a bowl by the front door on my way out.
The full throes of friends enjoying good food and wine was enjoyed at a high decibel and with temperatures a tad too toasty - that many people in a standard-sized living space next to a kitchen that’s been flat out all day will do that.
Whilst portion sizes need to be more consistent (both my banh chung and pork belly were much smaller than my companions) and perhaps two summer rolls and lollipops served each rather than one (to fill any remaining space in the gut on departure), every course was thoroughly enjoyable and very well received.
The donation for this supper club is £35 plus a little extra suggested for the helper - so £40. The value is good, but doesn’t quite match others that have either had more food, included welcome drinks and canapés, used some luxury ingredients, or all of the above, for the same or similar price. That said, it’s a great introduction to the supper club scene and we had a riot. You’ll find future dates of Uyen’s supper club on her website.
A huge thanks to Uyen’s hard work and for dishing out some very good food.
Liked lots: all of the food, but particularly the banh chung Vietnamese New Year cake and avocado sorbet
Liked less: it was a little too toasty and noisy - could perhaps do with a few less people; without sounding like a pig, one more course would have gone down well
Good for: an introduction to the London supper club scene
My rating: 3.5
Afiyet olsun.
