Firebird has landed on Poland Road in Soho. Though it’s not precisely Soho, however somewhat that time the place it melds into the decrease half of Oxford Road. That is the place Hare Krishna parades weave previous American breakfast cereal boutiques and the place, when you stand lengthy sufficient, the world and his canine will cross by on the best way to purchase a pair of Primark flip-flops. Soho itself is very staggy and henny nowadays, so any try to achieve Firebird by way of Piccadilly Circus means you’ll encounter at the very least three teams of Grand Nationwide jockeys and a silent disco strolling tour twirling ebulliently to Europe’s The Closing Countdown. Someplace within the midst of all this chaos is Firebird, a chic new restaurant opened by Madina Kazhimova and Anna Dolgushina, certainly one of whom you'll in all probability meet the second you step into the calm, somewhat darkish inside.
From the outset, the place feels private and homespun, which is a rarity in London eating places in the intervening time, as a result of solely the massive, bolshie and barely sterile openings appear to search out the wings to fly. Firebird pushes itself as a restaurant and pure wine/biodynamic bar, however don’t let that deter you; additionally they supply drinks that aren’t Berocca-wee-orange or redolent of athlete’s foot. They have been doing a charred pineapple daiquiri and a smoked bellini highball the night time we have been there, though Charles went for a potent toasted sesame bitter.
If these cocktails sound as in the event that they’ve been involved with some type of bare flame, you’re near guessing the idea behind Firebird. Sure, hearth. Virtually all the things on ex-Caravan head chef Nikos Kontongiannatos’ menu is “touched by flames”, having been cooked over charcoal or wooden. I believed that is likely to be one thing of an exaggeration, however, in Firebird’s case, it has legs. We ate on the sit-up bar (not the very best seats in the home, however I’d booked somewhat late), so had a full view of the hearth as complete grilled sea bass with acqua pazza headed for different tables. Then hunks of halloumi, charred and crisp on the perimeters, sticky and candy within the centre, arrived glistening with honey and truffle, and I realised that Firebird was actually somewhat good. In reality, it’s in all probability higher than 90% of the locations I've frittered my time on this yr. The usual of cooking, matched with genuinely intriguing and appetising dishes, places it proper up there on my checklist of 2022’s vital openings.
Take the choux bun stuffed with earthy, chicken-liver paté and hazelnut, a type of weird, offally Paris-Brest. It sounds heinous, but it surely works. Or the tiger prawns in a heavenly, wealthy, white-wine-and-butter sauce – effectively, extra like a soup, as a result of there was a lot of it. Glazed pork stomach, from the mains, appeared with apparent proof of the hearth, with its crackling agency and its flesh nonetheless pink, and got here armed with a heat potato salad and a blob of plum ketchup. For vegans, there was “primo cabbage”, charred however delicate and yielding, with a great, punchy hazelnut romesco sauce. By no means in all my years judging MasterChef has anybody served me scallops on a mattress of buttery mash with truffle, however at Firebird they’re about setting the rulebook alight. The scallops have been monumental, plump, delicate and slightly torched, as one would possibly by now anticipate right here.
By 8pm, Firebird was crammed to the brim, and wannabe walk-ins have been being batted off with charming diplomacy. A part of its magic lies in how they've an abundance of educated workers, all with a watch in your empty glass, lacking fork or need to see the dessert menu, a degree of service that’s rarer than hen’s dentures proper now. Every time my serviette was refolded, it felt like a cuddle. I used to be so excited by the brief pudding checklist that we ordered each, in addition to a banana baked quaint cocktail in celebration. That night’s choices included a pâte à choux stuffed with whipped cream, strawberries and chunks of honeycomb, suffering from pistachio and drizzled with a puddle of honey: pure calorific artwork. The opposite choice was a small, damp, barely boozy chunk of espresso cake in a sticky, candy sauce and liberally coated in praline cream and nuts. It was much less fairly to have a look at, true, but it surely packed extra of a punch. As a lot thought had been put into the candy course because the starters and mains, which is sort of an outdated idea within the capital nowadays.
This place is one to have up your sleeve for once you want slightly class, kindness and sustenance in a postcode that, since restrictions lifted, has shortly shifted again to booze-fuelled get together central. I’m a fan. Although my waistline might in all probability do with none extra of these attractive, imaginative desserts, I’m like a plump-bottomed moth to Firebird’s flames.
Firebird 29 Poland Road, London W1, 07713 737813. Open Mon-Fri 5-11pm, Sat noon-11pm. From about £50 a head, plus drinks and repair.
The following episode within the third sequence of Grace’s Consolation Consuming podcast is launched on Tuesday 12 July. Hearken to it right here.
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