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Three thick slices of cured trout on a white plate, with coconut sauce, a herb oil, and trout roe
The trout kinilaw at Sarap, in Mayfair.
Maazin Buhari

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The Best Dishes Eater Writers Ate This Week

Eater’s editors and writers share their highlights from a week of eating

A warm welcome back to the column which highlights the best dishes (or things) Eater London staff and/or contributors ate during the week.


11 February 2022

Three thick slices of cured trout on a white plate, with coconut sauce, a herb oil, and trout roe
The trout kinilaw at Sarap, in Mayfair.
Maazin Buhari

Trout kinilaw at Sarap

This trout kinilaw — enlivened by rhubarb and the coconut cane vinegar in which the fish is cured — is one of the “recommended” starters at chef Budgie Montoya’s Filipino bistro pop-up in Heddon Street. The colours on the plate remind you of the Indian flag (Irish maybe, for some), glistening orange trout slices floating in a pool of white, speckled with a herby green oil. The combination of lightly vinegared fish with the fragrance of coconut works well; the three sweet, salty, tangy mouthfuls make you feel like you’re in the tropics. Hard to think of a better compliment for a cold February weeknight dinner in London. —Maazin Buhari
10 Heddon Street, Mayfair W1B 4BX

A screenshot of a Whatsapp exchange involving a photo of a venison pie with a pile of red cabbage and a pool of horseradish cream
“Actions sometimes speak louder than words.”
Untitled

Venison pie, walnuts, red cabbage, and horseradish cream at 40 Maltby Street

“Just look at it,
“even i have no words to describe it,
“i would say the move this week is to go in and order 3.” —Jonathan Nunn
40 Maltby Street, Bermondsey SE1 3PA

Yum Yum from Raab’s the Bakers

“Is there ever any need to spend north of four quid on a doughnut?” is an essay for another day.

Still, anyone reading this who is prone to such behaviour might want to get down to Raab’s the Bakers on Islington’s Essex Road. This little blue-fronted shop has been preparing all manner of cakes, bakes, sandwiches, and confectionary since 1948; its window display stacked with Chelsea buns, Tottenham cake, and Bakewell slices. The doughnuts, if you arrive early enough, come in all shapes and sizes — small little beignet-style efforts dusted just with granulated sugar (five for a pound); ones fuller than they need to be with raspberry jam. There are ring doughnuts and chocolate doughnuts, even doughnut “sticks,” because why not present sugar-coated deep-fried enriched batter in every available format?

And then there’s the Yum Yum, which is a kind of iced bun / glazed doughnut hybrid — its fried edge giving way to a pleasingly chewy sweetish bready interior. The day’s baker was unable to confirm exactly if the dough mixture was the same as for doughnuts, but would settle on “it’s definitely similar.”

“Is there ever any need to spend north of four quid on a doughnut?” Almost certainly not when you can get something even better — one of Raab’s chubby Yum Yums — for £1.35. —Adam Coghlan
136 Essex Road, Islington N1 8LX


4 February 2022

The Sable Breton from e5 Bakehouse
The Sable Breton from E5 Bakehouse.
Adam Coghlan

The Sable Breton at E5 Bakehouse

The sable Breton, then, is a cookie sent from heaven. All I needed to hear from the person behind the counter at E5 Bakehouse earlier this week was that it originates in Brittany and had in it, “a lot of salty butter.”

First, a word of advice: Do not be put off by the modest appearance of this little fella. A diddy, dense puck, it appears both on first hold and first bite to bear all the brilliance and moisture of what the Americans call a “biscuit.” Which is to say, dry. You could also be forgiven for thinking this was a half-sized savoury scone.

Luckily, it is neither. It is broadly what the Brits call a shortbread biscuit, but what sets it apart are the caramelised crumbs of Hackney Wild, the bakery’s best-known sourdough loaf. In just the same way crumbs add texture and taste to the various Pump Street “bakery” series chocolate bars, here too they bring a little crunch, a little chew, and a pleasingly deep Brit-biscuity richness. They behave almost like flecks of stem ginger, if it were candied in muscovado.

A fine way to spend £1.60. —Adam Coghlan
396 Mentmore Terrace, London Fields E8 3PH

Nick Bramham’s New York-style roast beef, mozzarella, and fried aubergine hoagie, at Bodega Ritas
Nick Bramham’s New York-style roast beef, mozzarella, and fried aubergine hoagie, at Bodega Rita’s.
Jonathan Nunn

The Don Defonte by Nick Bramham at Bodega Rita’s

The Chicken Big Mac is the perfect sandwich for a nation that habitually enjoys the taste of boot; a cynical afterthought of a burger thrown to us like the clapping seals we are to distract us from the quality of McDonald’s specials in literally every other country. But we take what is given to us gladly — an attitude which is as true of sandwiches as it is of governments (if the French had been given chicken Big Macs they would have built barricades and invented a new genre of agitprop cinema by now).

To imagine a better world you have to be shown it is possible. This is why the sandwich today at Bodega Rita’s by Quality Wines’s Nick Bramham is so important; a sandwich inspired by an experience of another city (in this case, New York) retold with British and Italian ingredients, glued together by the soft hoagie from Bodega Rita’s (themselves no sandwich slouches.) I could, megaphone in hand, shout about the just doneness of the beef, the layer of fried aubergine which acts as a sauce shield, the lack of melting on the cheese which ensures the right level of moistness, but it would probably be pointless. It’s sold out and isn’t coming back. I, on the other hand, bought two; the revolution can wait. —Jonathan Nunn
92 Cowcross Street, Farringdon EC1M 6BH

Steamed egg at New Fortune Cookie, specked with chives. A can of coke in the background
Steamed egg at New Fortune Cookie.
Angela Hui

Steamed egg at New Fortune Cookie

If I was forced to eat one thing for the rest of my life it would probably be Chinese steamed egg with some boiled rice. I know, I know, boring and very telling. I constantly crave that smooth, unblemished custard texture, there’s something about it that always provokes a child-like giddiness in me. This version at New Fortune Cookie is flecked with bright orange salted duck egg and hunks of obsidian century egg bringing a concentrated saltiness to the party. Topped with a pool of soy sauce and diced spring onions for freshness and texture. Admittedly, the quality of the century egg could’ve tasted fresher and funkier here, but a jiggly, silky plate of pure joy. —Angela Hui
1 Queensway, Queensway W2 4QJ

The bakken special at Black Axe Mangal
The bakken special at Black Axe Mangal.
Jonathan Hatchman

Bakken Special at FKA Black Axe Mangal

Affectionately known as “the OG” Black Axe Mangal dish, the Bakken Special currently headlines the regularly changing four-course set menu of BAM greatest hits, which the restaurant has been serving for the past few months. While the sliced short rib with hash browns akin to confit potatoes, “crispy fuckin’ rabbit,” and the famous lamb offal flatbread remain highlights, the Bakken Special was the key standout from a recent dinner. On paper, the dish and its components seem outrageous, which is absolutely the case. But although so many bold flavours are incorporated, it’s the precise balance that makes everything work so well.

Presented on a large grill plate that’s placed in the middle of the table for two people, it’s worth eating this with somebody you truly love, otherwise sharing becomes astoundingly perplexing. Tangles of smoked and slow-braised lamb are at the fore, cloaked with a spice blend including the likes of cumin, fennel, and caraway seeds, and a rich “Bakken” sauce with pomegranate molasses and fermented turnip juice. It’s then topped with fistfuls of lightly pickled red cabbage to counteract some of the lamb’s fattiness, a handful of parsley, creamy yoghurt, chilli sauce, and some grilled kidneys thrown in to provide another dimension of both flavour and texture. Ideally use half of the convoying flatbread to scoop the lamb, and the other to mop up the excess sauce and fat. —Jonathan Hatchman
156 Canonbury Road, Islington N1 2UP

Seasonal herb salad at Kiln

I love Kiln, I love dining at the counter and the buzz of that and that it’s got a menu two people can happily order pretty much all of it, if greedy. Which I am. I also think that the array of dishes hits all the notes needed — some lean more sour, or more aromatic, or more umami… So the dishes work together to create a very flavour-balanced meal.

This means it’s hard to get “a favourite,” but the other day I had a dish that I’ve thought about daily since. Kiln often has a herb salad that changes with the season (the vegetable component rotating between turnips, carrots, pumpkin... Right now it’s squash!) and I had one with radish and beetroot. The earthy beets were so moreish and the radish (is there a more perfect vegetable?!) had the perfect clean crunch; the herbs with dressing of lime, fish sauce and a touch of sweetness all made something deep in flavour but also fresh. I also love shrimp floss, which it was finished with. It was the forkful of food I had in between every other bite. In particular, it was superb beside the laap. Anna Sulan Masing
58 Brewer Street, Soho W1F 9TL


21 January 2022

Fish curry and roti prata on a green plate at Hawker’s Kitchen in King’s Cross
Fish curry and roti prata at Hawker’s Kitchen.
Adam Coghlan/Eater London

Fish curry and roti prata at Hawker’s Kitchen

Readers of the column will, I hope by now, know that I’m not a fan of Weetabix. No, start the day with savoury is a motto I’ve always wanted to live by but found hard to realise with any kind of consistency outside of the home in England. “The Full English” is much more of a cliche than a breakfast people actually eat. But it doesn’t have to be this way! With any luck, this will become a Good Savoury Breakfast Diary. And so here we are with the first instalment of 2022, on a side street near King’s Cross Station, eating fish in a sour tomato-rich curry sauce with four (two of which are ordered as an extra side) freshly made chewy, flaky, incredible roti prata. For a little supplementary heat and to turbo-charge the morning umami intake, a small pot of sambal is worth the extra £1.49.

If anyone knows of a better way to start the day in central London, I’m all ears. ‘Til next time. Adam Coghlan
64 Caledonian Road, King’s Cross N1 9DP

Adobada, top, and machaca, bottom, tacos from Sonora, in London Fields. Both consist of flour tortillas, the former topped with pork, pineapple, green salsa, red onion, and coriander; the latter with potato, orange salsa, red onion, and coriander.
Adobada, top, and machaca, bottom, tacos from Sonora, in London Fields.
James Hansen

A pair of tacos at Sonora Taqueria

Welcome to the best dishes of 2022! Some New Year prescriptions insist in change, jettisoning the old in favour of the new, but they say nothing for old favourites ploughing a furrow of consistent excellence. So to Netil Market (via ELDN HQ) for a brace of typically gossamer flour tortillas from Sonora. One laden with pork adobada and chunks of grilled pineapple; the other with machaca and soft nuggets of potato. Cold wind blowing across London Fields could not dim it for a second. —James Hansen
Netil Market, 13-23 Westgate Street, London Fields E8 3RL

Chicken fry at Udaya Kerala
Chicken fry at Udaya Kerala.
Anna Sulan Masing

Chicken fry at Udaya Kerala

Eater pal Jonathan Nunn has written about the fries at Udaya in East Ham (which cooks Kerala food and has been around since 1999) both for this website and (of the netholi, specifically) as one of the 60 South Asian dishes Londoners should know. And it is very good. But, as a fried chicken lover I cannot pass the opportunity to eat some if it’s on the menu and, its possible, this is my favourite in London...? The outside is so crisp, but light, and the inside is tender. The spice is warming, with a slight heat that builds. It’s fried with slithers of onions which are also SO GOOD — they added a bit of sweetness. I asked my housemate if he had any particular thoughts to add, to explain the dish, his response was simply: “can’t stop thinking about it, tbh could eat it all again this evening” which is all you need to know, really. Eat it, daydream about it.
—Anna Sulan Masing
105 Katherine Road, East Ham E6 1ES

Scialatelli allo scoglio at Campania and Jones: mussels and tomato in a rich sauce with thick noodles
Scialatelli allo scoglio at Campania and Jones.
Lucas Oakeley

Scialatelli allo scoglio at Campania and Jones

Sitting outside at Campania and Jones, basking in the warming glow of a gas heater, feels both extremely and vaguely European. It’s less like dining in Hackney and more like sitting at an Italian trattoria in Paris or Berlin. Campania’s food is consistently charming, but the best eating on the night was a generous bowl of scialatielli allo scoglio. Bucking the trend for pasta portions in London that have a frustrating tendency to leave you wanting, this dish was more than a bit of slap and tickle. A tangle of udon-like scialatelli noodles came in a thick and rustic red sauce, rich with nubs of tomato and what seemed like an entire seabed of mussels and clams. The sweet, jammy tomatoes brought out the best of the seafood’s salinity for a satisfying melee of flavour. —Lucas Oakeley
23 Ezra Street, Shoreditch E2 7RH

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