London Restaurants by category
The feng shui inside might be stunning but it's difficult to imagine many less auspicious locations in zone 1. A Wong sits like a slightly out of place squat granite and glass monolith among the mediocre lunchtime options and sandwich chains of Wilton Road. Laid back decor inside, a clean mix of Scandinavian woodwork and soft straight stone lines.
There are three menus, a lighter dim sum focussed lunch menu, a more substantial evening list and a tasting menu spanning the both. They all dip in and out of a range of regional specialisms, so Sichuan standards like Gong Bao chicken and dry fried beans rub noses with braised lettuce, Imperial dishes and Yangzhou fried rice.
Prices are reasonable across the board, though at £1.50 a piece the dim sum will mount up pretty quickly. It isn't the place for a weekend blow out, but then you're unlikely to see many people round here during the weekend other than the confused tourists disembarking from Victoria station. Of particular note is the express menu, with two courses, a drink (and two lovely salted caramel petits fours) for a very reasonable £12.95.
A trio of dim sum wouldn't usually come close to satisfying me, even as a starter, but these are monsters. That classic shrimp har gau, here at least half again as big as the tiddlers I'm used to in Chinatown, came with an innovative twist, a protective bubble coat of sharp citrus and yuzu foam. That other stalwart pork and prawn siu mai came with its own welcome innovation, a tiny sliver of puffed pork crackling, texturally complimenting the freshly steamed and freshly made parcel. A grease free and delightfully crispy pork wonton completed the set, as delightful a dim sum experience as I've had in this country.
Of the four or so mains offered with the express menu, I went for Sichuanese speciality dan dan mian, or peddler's noodles, named after the distinctive cooking pots they were served from by wandering street sellers. Whenever I've had it before, the soft minced beef, seasoned with those numbing Sichuan peppercorns, mixed with chunks of chilli, veggies and noodles has come in a spicy broth made of noodle water, Shaoshing rice wine and stock. Here it comes, with a few beansprouts and a single vegetable, in a thick meaty gravy, dumped over pedestrian noodles. Not unpleasant per se, but unexpectedly dry, overly rich and not much to my taste.
I'll be back, if not for the tasting menu, certainly for a more detailed examination of the evening menu and some more of that super sized dim sum. The sun was out, and the open plan airy space will be gorgeous come the summer. Let's hope that the locals can tear themselves away from Nando's and the infinitely inferior Dim T just up the road and support the new kid on the block.
I held this one back as a special treat. I'd only gone and scored a table at John Salt. Only the most talked about, blogged and dissected restaurant this week! Proud as punch I was, presenting my booking like a child proffering a favourite toy. The boy done well.
"Brilliant..." sniffs the Vole haughtily. "There's hardly anything on that menu that I understand, much less like the look of. Oh, there's pig skin… I know why you want to bloody go.." After a more intense perusal, she begrudgingly points out a starter of burnt leeks with parmesan, egg yolk and truffle vinaigrette as being vaguely of interest. Of the rest; the bacon panna cotta (oh yes), the grilled salad, the multiple hashes and the cheeks and the bellies, the Vole was left distinctly cold. "Really? If we must…" Oh, we must...
It's a food-spotters and bloggers menu if ever there was one. Devised dishes described in a mash-up two-word list of current food trends. Raw this and that, 'Kimchi' here, 'chicken skin' there, 'pulled pork' everywhere... Check, check and mate, mate. That there's a pervading whiff of BBQ will come as little surprise to anyone who knows that chef Neil Rankin has hotfooted it over here from iconic meat Mecca Pitt Que, following a unfortunate turn of events between the owners and original kitchen prodigy Ben 'Roganic' Spalding. But of course if you're just a humble punter, you will neither know, nor care about this back story.
For the rest of you, the civilians still radiating bafflement at the one-word menu and the breathy introduction? Banish the gloom and forget about the 'nu-restaurant' wankery, you're in for a treat.
There's a seemingly more comfortable dining space upstairs, though we're relegated to slightly cramped and uncomfortable rough-hewn communal tables at the front, slotted in next to a mixed bag of trendy locals and slathering food spotters. Not ideal for a quiet date, and not something that they make a recommendation on when you book which feels odd. I'm also surprised that it's not as busy as the Twitterati would have you imagine. There's definitely room for walk ups, certainly in the loud downstairs bar space which serves a limited version of the same innovative menu.
And the food? Thankfully it's superb. Absolutely superb.
We go for (scratch that, I go for) a selection of the starter plates, topped off with a 'Red Flannel Hash'. Only on discussion with the serving dude do we realise that's a type of beetroot, roasted to perfection with floury roast potatoes and delicate peas and corn, topped with a panko-coated soft-boiled egg. Perfect comfort food, if irritatingly undecipherable from the menu alone.
Those burnt leeks were a smokey revelation, the flavour of the BBQ subtle but pervasive, mellowed out by creamy rich yolk. Tiny and delicately tempura'ed oysters were gone in a heartbeat, much like a large fresh dose of buttery crab with a wallop of fresh sea served on a slice of deep fried puffed-up pig skin more akin to a prawn cracker. Simple flavours combined well and packing a real punch. Genuine food that puts a smile on your face.
The best for me was a simple salad of raw beef and apple, with a hit of chilli oil and a nutty sweetness from scattered sesame. A perfect small plate and bargainous at a fiver. For the same price we also enjoyed a riff on Canadian monstrosity poutine, here made with hunks of fleshy pork belly and softly warming kimchi. The couple packed in next to us were overheard contemplating a second portion of this, I wholeheartedly agreed with their ambition and would have done likewise if I hadn't known the reaction my suggestion would get from my guest.
And that Bacon Panna Cotta to finish with was designed to fulfil almost all of my fantasies. Every bit as wrong (and as right) as you can imagine. Soft creamy panna cotta with just a hint of smokey bacon, topped with crushed nuts and maple syrup. Absolutely heavenly.
I'm also delighted to say that it's very well priced for this quality of innovative cooking. Even with a (frankly poor and astringent) bottle of house white and (much better) service, the tab only came to £67. It certainly lived up to the hype, though I'm glad to say that it's not as crowded as expected (and as it deserves to be, but these are early days). Next time however I'll be going for a seat upstairs. Don't be put off by the cooler than thou menu, you can ask questions. Come and join the food spotters…
