It is true that the dinner did not start well. There were three times I had to explain that no, I wasn’t eating alone, I was the first to arrive and could you please stop trying to clear my partner’s cutlery. He would need it. There were the two cocktail offers and the two offers to explain the menu, an update few enjoy the first time, let alone the second. But let’s put all of this down to solvable communication issues. The biggest problem was this. After months of amazing meals all over the UK at fair prices, where no one tried to explain the menu to me even once, I returned to London and had a leisurely dinner, which included the second cheapest bottle of wine, costing £110 head. And it was just fine. It wasn’t awful. There were some very nice dishes, some that passed without distracting from the conversation, and a couple that disappointed. It followed the kind of account I associate with made-up memories, with culinary intelligence, and with all the imagination. “Curls of finely shaved, finely pickled fennel are the perfect foil”: grilled mackerel. Photo: Sophia Evans/The Observer Then, as I walked down the steps of the architecturally magnificent Bethnal Green Town Hall Hotel in east London, home to the recently opened Elis restaurant, I felt like I had become one of the very people who criticize these reviews with righteous, fiery anger. £110 a head? In the midst of a cost of living crisis? How bloody dare you? I know the arguments: restaurants aren’t anyone’s idea of a necessity, but neither are tickets to Premiership football matches or West End shows or new iPads or horizon-broadening holidays. And yet we devote acres of space to them. In financially bleak times, there are still plenty of people who can afford nice things. Plus, we can hold two thoughts in our heads at the same time: that people are struggling horribly, and yes, this sounds like a good way to spend the money I’m lucky enough to have. Just a few months ago I argued that leaving restaurants when you could afford them was much deeper in the recession, not out of it. But really, it has to be worth it. “Full accessories”: pork with black beans. Photo: Sophia Evans/The Observer Anyway, let’s get into the details. Elis is the second restaurant from Brazilian-born chef Rafael Cagali, who owns the two-Michelin-starred Da Terra on the other side of the difficult-to-navigate town hall. His food is deeply rooted in his Brazilian and Italian heritage. This is meant to be the relaxed iteration compared to the bells and whistles of Da Terra, where the tasting menu is £215 a head. Like his mother’s first jazz bar in São Paulo, it was named after the Brazilian singer Elis Regina. Hence the square box of a corner room, with its crystal lights and half-timber paneling, all designed to mirror the sturdy components of the building it sits in, echoes the strains of old-school bossa. The menu doesn’t need much explanation. It is divided into small plates and large plates, which are intended for sharing. The £8 bread selection is workmanlike, though it comes with a nice dollop of cultured butter and a small bowl of stringy stracciatella, which nicely lubricates the slightly dry focaccia. Porchetta tonnato, for £12, is a curious inversion of the usual dish. The tuna and anchovy sauce sits beneath the delicate curls of roast pork, not the other way around. It works quite well. An Italian spot of steak tartare, served on a hollow bone, is exceptionally beautiful and well-dressed. The words “churros pecorino” offer an exciting savory version of these beautiful, deep-fried extruded doughnuts. These are thick and clumsy and dry out the mouth. A plate of fried food arrives at our table and leaves unfinished. ‘Good pasta and the right sauce’: crab linguini. Photo: Sophia Evans/The Observer However, freshly grilled mackerel, the salty skin lightly browned, the oils running, is a real treat. Curls of finely shaved, lightly pickled fennel are the perfect foil. The crab linguine, an ashy gray according to our waiter, is included in the larger plates but is an elegant portion for £18. However, it is good pasta and properly sauced, with cherry tomatoes that have fallen into the fire of the sauce. The most Brazilian of the dishes is the Iberico pork, served very pink, over a deep black bean stew. It’s fully equipped: there’s a loose chimichurri, a bowl of farofa, a crispy toasted cassava meal and a tiny salad. It’s £38. And now I can hear the bill going up. We order the guava creme caramel because it sounds sexy and exotic. It is filled with a beautiful piece of lacy sugar. As my partner picks up his spoon, he tells me how much he loves these supermarket crème candies in the clear ribbed pots, six for £1.15 from Asda. We each take a spoon and look at each other. “It’s exactly the same,” he says. I agree it is. Obviously, that’s why we like it. the price of £9, less. However, we love the indescribably light warm donuts, filled with dulce de leche. They finally deliver on the promise that churros broke. “Indescribably light”: dulce de leche donuts. Photo: Sophia Evans/The Observer We have a £35 bottle of Abruzzo from the short wine list, overseen by Noble Rot’s highly experienced team. That, a cocktail and a glass of wine each, and we have our bill for £222. It includes 12.5% service, but there is also a space open at the bottom for an additional tip. I doubt it. The waiter tells us that it is strange to be inside a hotel, that they hate it and that they are fixing it up. It occurs to me that if they really hated it that much, they could have put it in with a pen. I know about rising rents, rising wages and rising ingredient costs. I know about all that. Times are hard. I want restaurants to succeed, but experiences like this, charging a fortune for an experience that will be forgotten in the morning, don’t help. Not far from Elis is Manteca, which revolves around a similar set of dishes and ideas, but with much more intensity and an instinct for food. Oh, the brown crab cacio e pepe. It’s not cheap but it’s cheaper. And it’s very good. I knew when I visited Manteca to review that I would return and spend my own money there. And I have done it several times. I am truly sorry that I cannot say the same for Elis. It is so simple.
News Bites
It’s that time of year when the restaurant sector comes together to raise money to help tackle the effects of homelessness through the StreetSmart campaign. Over 540 restaurants, including Adams in Birmingham, The Fat Duck at Bray, Mana in Manchester and The Palmerston in Edinburgh, have agreed to ask every table to add £1 to their bill to help raise money. To find out more and see a full list of those taking part, visit streetsmart.org.uk. Part-time cook and full-time child psychologist Jaya Chanda has started a benefit-only fundraiser for flood relief in Pakistan. In return for a minimum donation of £12, she’ll send you a kit to make dal, complete with lentils and spices, as well as a recipe from her great-grandmother’s kitchen. You will just need to add onions, tomatoes, ginger and garlic. For a minimum donation of £15, he will gift wrap it for Christmas with Indian fabric and add your personalized message. Donate here: crowdfunder.co.uk/p/diy-dal-kit-for-pakistan-flood-relief The challenge with most online cooking classes is that they require you to source basic ingredients yourself. A new venture called Oma Kitchen is tackling this. Their video lessons, which cost £69.99 each, cover dishes such as Korean, Mexican and North Indian and come complete with access to not only video tutorials, but also recipe booklets and essentials. The Mexican course, taught by chef Karla Zazueta, comes with ancho, arbol and guajillo chilies, as well as various spices and Mayan chocolate. Visit oma.kitchen Email Jay at [email protected] or follow him on Twitter @jayrayner1
