dirty bones, kensington - event

There’s a lot of filth-focussed nomenclature when it comes to casual-dining eateries these days. We’ve already got Dirty Burger in Kentish Town and Vauxhall, not to be confused with Big Dirty Burger popping up around London. It’s a fitting adjective to describe the sort of food you expect to get around your mouth as much as in it, eaten without cutlery, and always great with alcohol. To this list we can now add Dirty Bones - the new Kensington cocktail and dining hotspot for subterranean gourmet dude-food, where the light is low and the beats are brash.

Photo Credit: @TheGaztronome

A kerb-side kiosk during the day (Thurs - Sat 12 - 3) that opens it’s basement drinking-and-dog den to visitors by night (from 6pm Tues - Sun), Dirty Bones specialises in innovative takes on the classic hotdog (the “dogs”), some serious meat offerings (the “bones”) and an array of sides.

For lubrication, there’s a bar with talented staff behind it mixing up a whole host of suitably canine-themed cocktails - think Mutt’s Nuts (Woodford reserve, cinnamon and vanilla infused maple syrup, angostura bitters, lemon and apple juices - £10), Leo the Wonderdog (el Jimador tequila, Château du Breuil calvados, lemon and Vinho Verde wine - £8), Top Dog (Finlandia vodka, fresh strawberry, chambord, lemon, prosecco - £9), and more. Food like this is often given little thought, both from those producing it and eating it. But not here. The man behind this original menu is Ross Clarke, the group creative development chef hailing from the Fat Duck Experimental Kitchen, so expect a few touches of magic and unusual ingredient combinations. 

Photo Credit (right): @TheGaztronome

The Asian Dog is a piquant and sharp sausage in a brioche bun - kimchee purée, punchy and vibrant green wasabi mayonnaise, crisped-up seaweed and sesame seeds (£8). The real labour of love on the menu is the fried chicken - it’s quite something. Free-range boned thighs and drumsticks are brined for 12 hours with star anise, rosemary and garlic. Cooked in a sous vide for 6 hours at 58C, they are then chilled, coated in a spicy cornflour mix, and fried. The end result is superbly succulent - expect a chin covered in juice. Served with a charred lemon wedge for a citrus-caramel lift, this should be at the top of your list (£8 / £13). Mince from aged bavette and beef fat makes up the Burger Dog. Furnished with ‘beer cheese’ (fermented overnight with Marmite), shreds of lettuce, mustard and ketchup, it imparted a flavour of a spruced-up McDonald’s Big Mac - I liked it (£8.50). The sides put in a sterling effort fighting the mains for the spotlight. Triple cooked fries were impossible to leave alone (£3); bakes beans were boozed-up with bourbon and include marshmallows for their gelatinous, thicker-sauce quality (£4); and the mac and cheese sported a crunchy breadcrumb topping with an oozing, cheesy, carbed mass beneath (£4). The padron peppers were a little too charred (I’d say burnt - £4), but the jar of grilled pickles billowed out the smoke they were flavoured with, playful and engaging for all the senses (£2.50).

Photo Credit (top row): @TheGaztronome

Dessert came in the form of an intense dark chocolate cookie so gooey it was on the verge of changing physical state. A very pleasing neutral milk ice cream (a bit like kulfi) accompanied it; served in a glass with a straw to look like milk, my failed attempt at sucking a solid through it was a good indication of my level of inebriation by this point (£5). Dirty Bones’ take on the ‘petit four’ from that evening’s tasting menu is a dessert in its own right and a good, if not calorific, way to round off a meal. Should you find the room, try the 101 Dalmations cocktail - Bailey’s chocolate, Finlandia vodka, Disaronno, cream, chocolate chip ice cream (£9). Served with a defibrillator (or should be). A duo with an electric keyboard crooned some classics from the corner (think Mary Mary - “take the shackles off my feet so I can dance” - Shola Ama, Luther Vandross, Amy Winehouse) whilst we contemplated stealing the microphone and serenading the room between their breaks. Dirty Bones is the sort of place for a group of mates to take over the corner of and settle down for the evening with cocktails, raucous laughter, great bites, and a bit of sit-down-dancing. I challenge you to go and not have a great night. Liked lots: all dogs available in pork, beef, veggie and naked; live music; retro-cool interiors designed by Lee Broom; red neon signage; staff who dance along to the music with you; the freakin’ chicken Liked less: I always take my own pictures but the incredibly low-lighting meant most came out awful - thanks to The Gaztronome for his professional shots; the padron peppers were burnt Good for: a rollicking night out with your mates

My rating: 3.5/5

Find the menu on Zomato.

Afiyet olsun.

NB I was invited as a guest to this event.

hibiscus, mayfair - review

I have a long list of Michelin-starred restaurants I’m yet to visit. Within London and beyond, the order of priority is a fickle science loosely based on what recent dishes catch my eye, and recommendations. The third very influential factor is the availability and value of set menus. 

A set menu in a Michelin restaurant allows mere mortals (like me) to visit them a little more frequently than we could afford to if we had to fork out for a la carte each time. The accessibility of their prices allow a greater number of people to sample some of the best cooking in the industry, without needing to remortgage the house to do so. If you’re not a fussy eater and your time is flexible, there are a number of Michelin establishments that have some great-value deals.

The Saturday brunch at 2-star Hélène Darroze at The Connaught is one of the best - three courses of exceptional ingredients and cooking, with course one and two being buffet. That's right, 2-star Michelin buffet. As much tea and coffee and juice served in stunning Hermes crockery as you can handle, and all for £55. You’ll be in there for three hours and won’t eat again for twelve.

Hot Dinners recently published a handy guide to the best London restaurants with set lunch deals, my first port of call when searching for somewhere to accommodate two ladies for a long, posh (and preferably boozy) lunch. The Hibiscus entry grabbed me by the shoulders screaming, “PICK ME". Three courses of sublime 2 Michelin star French cooking, half a bottle of wine, petit fours and coffee for £49.50? Well shut the back door and call me Mary, you've got yourself a deal.

The fact around a third of the tables remained unoccupied during the Tuesday lunch service we visited is beyond me - business folk, tourists, and people who never seem to work alike, get yourself a table. With an unassuming frontage that would beguile the misinformed of the kitchen-workings within, you'll find Hibiscus neatly tucked away on Maddox Street in the heart of Mayfair (I walked past it twice before realising where it was).

Following its revamp in early 2013, the dining room is now one of understated elegance and sophistication, without being stuffy - a pale wood floor, white walls with contemporary art, upholstered blue chairs, and a playful and brightly coloured theme found in the knife holders and water glasses.

It also acquired a new bells-and-whistles development kitchen where Head Chef Claude Bossi and team unleash their creative juices on new menus. Not to mention front-of-house were a complete joy; when my companion lamented over wine being the first thing she would consume that day after a stressful morning, our waiter quipped with a smirk, “Wine is better than orange juice anyway”. Good point.

On our table soon after ordering, an egg box with two pale blue shells filled with mushroom royale, frothy coconut foam, a touch of cheese somewhere, the surface speckled with curry powder. It was still early enough for brunch and these felt like a splendid start to one.

The rabbit and foie gras terrine with apple, elegantly arranged radicchio and a pea-green dollop of hot lovage mustard had all the pleasure of a slab of cold-cut enjoyed on a picnic blanket amongst overgrown grass.

A jug of vichyssoise (a soup of leeks, onions, potatoes, cream, and chicken stock) poured at the table, created an island of black truffle topped with ornate parmesan crisps in a grass-green sea. Light and earthy.

Scottish beef bavette (from the sirloin, between the porterhouse and the hind leg), with its crusted exterior, deep pink middle, rich jus, sweet barbecued Spanish calcot onions, and horse-fat pommes hollowed out like puris, was a triumph. The sort of soft and yielding meat you cut tiny amounts from at a time in an attempt to make the dish last longer.

Choux farci is the French term for stuffed cooked cabbage leaves, like one massive, glorious dolma. In this instance, concealing a mound of flaky slow-cooked ox-cheek, seasoned with anchovy, sitting on a velvety parsley root purée, doused in cooking juices and diced apricot for a touch of sweet. Hugely inviting, with the breach of the cabbage casing imparting a lot of pleasure and table-cooing.

Towers of piped coffee sorbet sandwiched between two halves of choux pastry were model profiteroles by which all others should be measured. Two flanked each side of a pretty whisky crème Anglaise pattern on the plate, and were smothered with melted dark chocolate. On the menu, it read so well. It tasted better.

A drift of sweet potato and clementine hillocks with a single cheesecake-mix quenelle, topped with speckled meringue shards, was an ingredient combination I wish I could come up with. 

There seems to be a current trend of petit fours invoking childhood Cadbury-related memories of late - the delightful dark chocolate Crunchy bites at The Quality Chop House and now the wonderful minty Aero-esque mouthfuls at Hibiscus. Restaurants, please continue with this theme - I’m really enjoying it. Batons of blanched rhubarb that were tart and juicy came with a pot of vanilla sugar in which to dunk them. Mini madeleines reached the table still warm, pistachio, orange and oats and raisins, light and buttery. 

Claude Bossi’s cooking is assured yet playful, seemingly effortless yet expertly constructed, and he creates menus of things you want to eat. There is no pomp and circumstance and it’s not in the slightest bit intimidating. There’s just a lot of wonderful, accessible cooking with flare, enjoyed in rested and accommodating surroundings. Lunch there felt like a mini-holiday - I left revived, happy and entirely satisfied. I will be back, and back. 

Liked lots: incredible lunch set-menu value; amount of wine included (we didn't even finish it); Bossi himself coming out of the kitchen and saying hello to each table - a warm touch I've not experienced in another Michelin restaurant; exemplary cooking; they were entirely accommodating about my big SLR
Likes less: we were charged £5 for table water, which was from a jug. If they charge for water from the tap, that's annoying and they shouldn't
Good for: an accessible introduction into Michelin-standard cooking; a nice chat with front-of-house; some great eating

My rating: 4.5/5

Afiyet olsun.

 

bibo, putney - review

Putney is not a dining destination. Londoners don’t, after contemplating where to visit of an evening, respond in exaltation with “Putney!”. It’s a little out of the way for those not situated in SW London. Even for those who are, it’s a first-travel-in-then-out scenario if you’re based on the Northern Line (like me).

A neighbourhood, Putney is. What a neighbourhood needs are good local restaurants that become regular haunts for residents who are after good food and wine. What Putney has recently acquired is a new-kid-on-the-block Italian offering, that, with a few improvements, has the potential to become a local favourite.

Upper Richmond Road is as uninspiring a high-street as most in London. But nestled in the bosom of a Nando’s, Pizza Express and Dominos that flank either side, Bibo and its interiors have a transportational quality that plucks you out of SW15 and plants you straight into a Soho dining-hotspot. It looks great - airy, high-ceilinged, white-washed exposed brick, dark wood, leather banquettes, a mezzanine at the rear, and an impressive bar upon entry. Once you’re in, you’ll be in no hurry to leave.

Commandeering the kitchen is Head Chef Chris Beverley (formerly at Theo Randall at The InterContinental), offering a menu of regional Italian cuisine. Portioned off into antipasti, primi, secondi and dessert, the pasta is very much where it is at. And it’s where I’ll start. Wide ribbons of crimped-edge pappardelle folded onto themselves, making best friends with a light rabbit and Prosecco ragu, was a very pleasing plate of substance and bite (small portion - £9). Raggedy black squid-ink tagliarini with soft slices of octopus, glorious amounts of garlic and flecked with red chilli was devastatingly good (small portion - £9). Present to me a kilo of this and watch it disappear before your eyes. The pastas were so impossible to ignore, we ordered a third, despite having already worked our way through most of the antipasti. The final was the polenta ravioli - al dente pasta parcels filled with wonderfully textured polenta, sitting in a pool of thickened stock bolstered with dried porcini, artichokes and parsley (small portion - £9). Really splendid.

Backwards to the antipasti. It’s impossible for me not to order chicken liver when I see it on a menu, and there were no exceptions here; crisp crostinis heavy with olive oil were a happy method of transportation for the rough paté, seasoned with capers and sporting hats of crisped pancetta (£5). Potato and ‘nduja crochette were pretty good with a very delicate touch of heat, but could have done with more (£4). The farro arancini less so, lacking in discernible flavour (£3.50).

The borlotti bean bruschetta was ok - sweet roasted tomatoes, good bread, but again the beans themselves were short on flavour, seasoning and presence in general (£6.50). A dish of salt cod, chickpeas, chard and tomato was the D-grade student of this lunch-time class - the pulses were too al dente, the sauce was watery, I was left desperately seeking savour - I’d go so far as to say I didn’t enjoy this plate (£7).

A good finale we did finish on, though. A creamy mound of salty gorgonzola against sweet poached pear and toasted and honeyed walnuts, was very pleasant (£6.50).

How the pastas can be so uniformly impressive, and the antipastis range from not-bad to an-effort-to-finish, almost makes me think there were two entirely different chefs behind them. In different kitchens. Which group the secondi fall into, I can’t say - we didn't order any.

My final concern is the pricing and portion-size ratio. Whilst the pastas were magnificent, £9 for a small plate seems a lot (and £14 for large - of which I didn’t catch sight of - also seems high). A pound for each very small crochette seems a lot. Mains ranging from £16 to £19.50 seem a lot. Particularly when factoring in location and comparisons to some very good centrally located Italian eateries that are less pricey (specifically Bocca di Lupo and Mele e Pere - the latter of which has a pre-theatre and lunch menu that are scandalously priced for the cooking you get in return). 

Despite the food being discounted at 50% during the soft-launch period we visited, we still racked up a lunch-time bill of over £30 per head with a glass of wine each. If the food was fully priced, I would have paid an amount that would not have sat right with me for both the quality and quantity of food I received. My feeling is the prices need to reduce by around 20%, or the portion sizes should increase. But then, what the hell do I know.

A special note goes out to wine man of the moment Zeren Wilson who developed the offering available at Bibo. The Pino Noir and Barbera we had were very accommodating, and Zeren was able to identify what was in our glasses by colour alone - what a pro.

The menu at Bibo reads of everything you would want to eat, yet success is hit and miss from one course to the next with prices not reflecting what is being received. If the kitchen can recover the intermittently AWOL flavour, I think the food would have a really good thing going on and I would probably return for it. 

Liked lots: the pastas - all three we had; design and interiors; staff were wonderful; the menu reads very well
Liked less: location; salt cod and chickpeas; lack of seasoning and flavour in more than one dish; prices that seem too high
Good for: trying out if you're in the neighbourhood - I'd give them another go once they're more settled if Putney were mine

My rating: 3/5

Find the menu on Zomato.

Afiyet olsun.

the mad turk, stamford - review

An hour is longer than I'd usually travel for a meal. Especially when that's mostly doing 70 on a motorway - that’s some distance. But with a weekend planned at the in-laws in the Bucks village of Emberton, not paying a maiden visit to The Mad Turk in (relatively) nearby Stamford was not an option. It is my cousin's gaff after all.

Stamford is a town that has, before now, sat firmly on my 'heard of it, but not a priority’ list. If it's on yours, move it to the 'go visit quick' list. Steeped in history with a core of 17th–18th century stone buildings, older timber-framed buildings and straddling the River Welland, the town is quite the quintessentially English picture. 

Not to mention it carries some celebrity gravitas: Stamford has starred in period dramas like Pride & Prejudice and Middlemarch, and it was voted the best place to live in the UK by The Sunday Times last year. 

But where it excels in sparkling-river beauty and cobbled streets, it somewhat lacks in its international cuisine offering. 

“There isn’t another Turkish or Greek restaurant anywhere around here - the closest Greek place is in Cambridge!”, Head Chef (and my big cuz) Ertunch Kazim explained.

“I doubt our food competes with some of the excellent Turkish restaurants in London, but dishes are authentic to our heritage and people seem to like it”.

Well Ertunch, you may be my abi, but you are wrong. Your food does compete with London establishments, and strongly.

Husband and wife team Ertunch and Shelly Kazim (both with Turkish Cypriot heritage) have identified and filled a gap in the Stamford market. Seats are filled each service, there’s a lot of affirmation on TripAdvisor and diners are travelling some distance to visit. Set in a listed building with the moodily-lit main dining area just below street level and a large sunny terrace out the back, The Mad Turk is a place where you could easily spend a few hours grazing on a plate of mezze or eight.

On the note of the mezzes, they are top draw. Changed daily according to the best produce Chef can get his hands on, they take the classics we’re so accustomed to and bolster them with a bit of creative flare (order the mixed mezzes for two for the full range that day - £15.99). The taramasalata is made with prawn and salmon meat along with the roe, creating an altogether richer and more indulgent dip. The spuds in the potato salad were blushed pink, stained from the presence of beetroot, a little acidity from vinegar, lifted by parsley.

Calamari squid rings were the most substantial I’ve encountered; great big bastards you could hurl over empty glass bottles and win a soft toy with at a fair. Coarsely breaded, fried and surprisingly tender despite their meatiness. A dish of well-executed chickpeas cooked in a tomato sauce with a bit of chilli pepper heat were very much like the white beans I ate in Istanbul (see 6) but with a different choice of pulse. The epitome of simplicity done well and one of my favourite Turkish dishes (ever) because of it. 

Smoky aubergine flesh layered with garlic-laced yoghurt, chargrilled vegetables and a spicy tomato sauce was difficult to leave alone, and more charred aubergine mixed with yoghurt, spinach and sumac was equally attention-seeking. How I briefly lamented over the absence of dolma (stuffed vine leaves) and arnavut cigeri (sautéed lambs liver) - it just wasn’t their day. Reasons to return on their own.

Whilst the Turks love their vegetables, pulses and bread, no meal is complete without meat. Theirs is supplied by local Grasmere farm and butchers, just a few timber building-fronts down the road.

Kadin budu (translated as “lady’s thigh” because of the way they’re shaped) are mounds of lamb mince, onion and potato, seasoned with herbs and spices; these tasted like my (and Ertunch’s) aunt’s, which is just about the best acclaim they can have (£5.99).

Then it was time for the big boys. As is typical of Turkish hospitality, you will rarely order a main course that couldn’t easily feed two, whether you’re in Stamford or Green Lanes. The Iskender (my "King of kebabs") had very well-seasoned and spiced lamb koftes served on a bed of pitta with thick yoghurt, garlic and a spicy tomato sauce (£13.99). A plate swimming with juices crying out to be mopped-up along with tender, flavoursome meat. My single niggle being I like more yoghurt on my Iskender. But then I’d put yoghurt in my coffee if I could get away with it. 

Kuzu pirzola (lamb cutlets) are marinated overnight and were exceptionally succulent because of this treatment (£14.99). Sporting a char from the lick of flames, I ripped the thin strips of meat from the length of bone with my teeth and enjoyed it immensely. 

My cousin also chucked in a few bits of lamb shish to try. I never order lamb shish, and for good reason. I don’t believe I’ve ever spent less than five minutes chewing and (eventually) swallowing a mouthful. But these were hunks of lamb steak without a trace of gristle and yielding pink juices at the centre (£14.99). One of the kitchen staff later told me Ertunch spends two hours a day removing every scrap of sinew from his lamb shish meat. Good grief, it’s mighty glorious for it.

Expect Ertunch and Shelly to wind down with the guests once service is done with complimentary shots of (that oh-so-lethal spirit) Raki making the rounds, the full-flow of conversation, warm hugs with regulars and newbies alike, and a little bit of shoulder-shimmying if the night calls for it.

A wonderful example of a great evening with very good eating beyond the green belt. Good work, cuz.

Liked lots: location, atmosphere, interiors, evident warmth of hosts shown to all guests, mezzes, locally-sourced meat, awesome kitchen staff - all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and really keen, the doumbek drum making an appearance
Liked less: finding a parking space can be a little challenging on busy evenings 
Good for: groups, romantic meals, receiving genuine Turkish-Cypriot hospitality with authentic food, ending the day spent wandering around the town

My rating: 4/5

[One thing folk should know about us Turks is that we don’t mince our words. If the borek is good, we will praise it; if the meat is dry, we will say so, be you market-trader, restaurateur, or my aunt. 

So, despite the blood-related bias many will assume this review has, I write it sporting the same hat as with all my reviews - the hat of objectivity based on facts and uninfluenced by perks, relationships, or the sharing of genes.]

Afiyet olsun.

NB Whilst I wasn't specifically invited as a guest to review this restaurant, I wasn't charged for my meal because, well, because I'm family.

mele e pere, soho - review

There are so many establishments in London dishing out plates that look like they belong in the results of an ‘Italian food’ Google image search - a mass of spaghetti with a generic sauce plonked on top, sporting a pair of perky basil leaves. ‘Italian’ food, as many people know it - by which I mean a bunch of stock pasta and pizza options - is so often the default offering chosen by restaurants, as dishes are deceptively simple and hot carbs with cheese will always please the masses. But it’s also very easy to make them mediocre, or worse still, poor. And a lot of them do. Not to mention these places do little to represent the far-reaching range of regional Italian cooking - it’s not all spag bol and carbonara made with cream *shudders*.

So thank goodness for the very good places in town that do truly represent the variety and quality of Italian food - the likes of Bocca di Lupo, Zucca, Locanda Locatelli and now also, Mele e Pere.

Occupying a prime location on the corner of Brewer Street and Great Pulteney Street in the middle of the dining hotspot that is Soho, the heart of Mele e Pere (“apples and pears”) is found below ground. Continue down a flight of tiled stairs - past the few tables, window bar-seating and mirrored wall adorned with glass apples and pears upon entrance - and diners are greeted with an impressive copper-topped bar and a large yet restful dining space.
My companion was someone who knows the restaurant and the dishes well, so I said that thing that is either well-received or slightly aggravating in this situation; “I eat anything, I’ll leave the ordering to you - whatever you think is good”. The reply to which was, “Well, it’s all good”. Dammit.
“But we must get the smoked swordfish carpaccio. And the aubergine parmigiana. Because it’s gorgeous. And the potato gnocchi with truffle - god, that’s really good. And the vitello tonnato”. This was going well.

Before I could prioritise that day’s menu according to which words I wanted to eat the most (they were coming out level-pegging, an unhelpful case of “all of the above please?”), a plate of three fresh-from-the-oven pillowy focaccia buns appeared, their aroma heavy with olive oil, sporting hats of pesto and something cooling I think was crème fraîche (£2.50). Shortly after, deep-fried ascolana olives stuffed with a little heat and served still warm, simultaneously crisp and ripe (£3.50).

Then a plate of partially translucent mackerel tartare with crunchy baby radishes and bergamot; there was a punchy hit of mustard in the mix and piquant pickled cucumbers to cut through the flesh*. It agreed with my oily-fish sentiments entirely: the best way to enjoy them is raw. A complete pleasure. A third plate - quenelles of chicken liver parfait with wine-poached pear, little mushrooms, Italian leaf and a bright yellow pansy - was something I wanted to photograph as much as eat. Velvety, rich and cooling pâté, sweet fruit, sprightly leaves. Another solid entry*.
The swordfish carpaccio bore the colour of a girl’s cheek after its first peck from a boy; flushed pink and with batons of vibrant crisp radishes and cornichons standing to attention - it was delicate and delightful (£6.50). Vitello tonnato is a Piedmontese antipasto of thinly sliced veal covered in a mayonnaise-like sauce, bolstered with capers, anchovies and lemon - all great things that cause the tip of the tongue to smack the roof of the mouth (£6). And then there was the aubergine parmigiana with pesto - a glorious mess of smoky aubergine mush, stretching cheese and sweet tomato meeting in a piping-hot melty mass of what can only be described as unadulterated out-of-the-oven pleasure (£6).

*No individual prices as both were from that day’s pre-theatre menu of three courses and a glass of prosecco for £18.

And the potato gnocchi glowing from saffron with generous shavings of pungent Umbrian black truffle? Well, there’s little point trying to evade it. You know you want it and if it’s there, you will order it. And once it arrives, you’ll be its prisoner until the bowl is clean. There’s probably only five ingredients involved, and the beauty is in its (luxurious, decadent, buttery) simplicity (£7.50 for the small portion).

There was no room for dessert. Even my second stomach - usually reserved for sweets - let me down. I was defeated, by what was a very good lunch; I’m happy to take a beating like that any day.

Mele e Pere has daily changing menus: lunch specials at £8.50, pre-theatre set menus of three courses with a glass of prosecco for £18 (both with entirely different dishes to the a la carte), the option of small or large portions for pasta, substantial mains and a bar specialising in vermouth. 

With such lovingly-prepared and well-executed creativity from Head Chef Andrea Mantovani available at very accessible prices, this is the restaurant card to keep in the back pocket and pull out when - well, whenever.

Liked lots: gnocchi, focaccia, aubergine parmigiana, mackerel tartare, location, prices, creativity
Liked less: the main dining area being without natural light
Good for: frequently changing menus, frequent visits, all occasions, quality food at affordable prices, vermouth (so I hear - must return to try some)

My rating: 4/5

Find the menu on Zomato.

Afiyet olsun.

Note: I was kindly treated to this meal by the restaurant thanks to their relationship with my companion.

flavour expats supper club series, hackney - event

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.