Fine dining
It’s my 63rd night in a row dining in the same restaurant. You must think I like it a lot but truly it’s all about convenience. The location is easy to find, just a few feet from the couch. Plus the staff are nice. As I’ve been here so often, I know everyone’s name.
He also knows mine.
During lunch hours and three dinners a week, this establishment works on a CYOF basis (cook your own food), the other nights, I have a personal chef. Today’s the latter.
It’s the middle of the week but as no one can distinguish Tuesday from Saturday anymore, the soon-to-be-chef and I decide to have an aperitivo of tortilla chips and smoked hummus. We pair this with Aberdonian Fierce Beer — IPA and Sour Ale — because helping local breweries is the perfect excuse to keep the fridge packed with booze.
The IPA’s name proclaims it’s for the “Day Shift”, which sounds ideal to end the workday, but the suited eagle on the label seems to be judging our lack of professionalism in the workplace. Other than that, both beers work quite well with the appetisers.
The hummus is silky smooth and has a hint of spice that hits that umami spot I didn’t know I needed. I also didn’t know I’d ever use the word umami but here we are so I’d call that a success.
The tortilla chips do the scooping job just fine but the flavour — Chipotle and Lime — dissolves a bit too quickly, leaving barely any aftertaste to savour.
After a handful of unenthusiastic crunches, I use the beer to cleanse my palate and swap the chips for carrots. Their fresh sweetness goes perfectly with the spicy hummus and I applaud my own decision.
Even though the decoration is a bit cold (classic new-build furniture package), there’s a relaxed atmosphere and the chef and I can sit in silence, both whatsapping friends and family as we snack.
The carrots would put the crisps to shame on the decibel scale so I decide to put a better soundtrack to the evening. As expected in any East London venue, the restaurant offers a small selection of vinyl.
As I flip through the options, I can see the chef browsing for recipes.
(This seems the right time to mention the meals here are not made to order but according to the chef’s inspiration and availability of produce).
There’s still some time to spare and, lucky for me, there’s a lounge area available. It’d be the perfect time to open a book, with Andrew Bird whistling from the record player and my fingers now crumb-free. But I reach for my phone instead.
I know dinner is being prepared because I can see the chef across the room hustling about. The open kitchen is a nice touch, if you’re into that kind of entertainment. I feel awkward staring at the chef and noticing all the things I’d do differently so I prefer the comfort of the screen.
I’m deep into a meme wormhole when I’m awoken by a loud “2 minutes!”.
It’s their version of those buzzing coasters. Equally effective. Much less startling.
There’s no dress code which means I can stick to my shorts, Batman t-shirt and slippers. The chef himself, wearing similar attire, will be joining me at the table. When I reach the dining area (a 3-second trip, give or take), the table is set. This is a nice surprise, as this place sometimes requires you to set it yourself. As I sit down I do have to push a laptop to the side, though.
Despite the fact that we’re only two this evening, the table counts four chairs, as if more guests were to join us at any point. Wishful thinking, as I don’t think this venue will be opening to groups any time soon.
Tonight’s dish is Teriyaki Salmon with a side salad.
The salad seems like an odd choice, as the salmon would’ve been perfect on a bed of rice, but we’ve had some form of rice the last three nights so I welcome the chef’s effort to limit our carb intake.
Presentation-wise, I’ll admit the white plates over the white table are not aesthetically ideal, but the absence of any sort of table mat in this establishment has been discussed on previous occasions so it doesn’t seem appropriate to bring it up again.
We dig in.
The salmon looks slightly overcooked for my liking, but the Teriyaki marinade has left the meat moist and deliciously salty. Good first try, as it’s my understanding that the chef has never prepared this dish before. This doesn’t come as a surprise, the trial-and-error method is a signature move in here.
The first bite of salad is unexpectedly strong and I instantly taste the reason why. As our olive oil is running low and we won’t be going to the shops for a few days, the chef’s used the extra virgin avocado oil I bought on a whim last year, mistakenly thinking it would be ‘inoffensive’. It seems too strong for the salad itself but a second bite, now with the salmon, proves me wrong: mixed with the Teriyaki it works surprisingly well. Plus discovering new ways to — slowly — empty that bottle brings me joy.
An advantage of dining here is that I know exactly where all the ingredients come from, if only because it was my turn to be the unaccompanied adult in Waitrose this week. It doesn’t get more locally-sourced than that.
As we eat, I ask the chef about his day, pretending we didn’t spend our workday sharing a desk with our laptops back to back.
We both finish our plates a bit too quickly, which we acknowledge, feeling guilty about our chewing speed and how we always manage to finish a dish in one-tenth of the time it took to prepare it.
If it were another meal, we might skip dessert, but the strong flavours of the dish call for a sweet note to end with. It’s time for one of the restaurant’s staple dishes: yoghurt and berry swirl, a take on an ice cream when there’s none. Seasonal flavours only, depending on the frozen fruit at hand.
We take our dessert order to the lounge area, ready for tonight’s entertainment: a selection of streaming services.
But before I can settle for the evening, I get the check.
A previous verbal agreement establishes the guests must pay by tidying up the kitchen. The price varies daily but the availability of a dishwasher always keeps the meal affordable.
I’m pleased with the evening overall, and I think this restaurant has clear potential. As a regular guest, I’ve been able to see its evolution in real-time and I appreciate the chef’s innovative attitude. It might be a hit and miss, but it sure keeps the nights interesting, and so far it’s been worth coming back to.
I’ll be back tomorrow to see if the restaurant can keep its quality when the tables turn and the reviewer becomes the chef. Expectations are high.
