The uniformity of London’s Spanish tapas menus – ham with salt, salty ham, very salty ham etc – is slowly draining the vigour from us all. Here the exciting eats make for an invigorating communal experience: Scottish seafood is served sharing-plate style. Although tragically offered with Spanish wine, not a dented can of Tennent’s Super.
The explosion of Asian-US fusion cuisine that gave us greasy jewels like Korean fried chicken is a wonderful thing, if a bit overplayed now. Flat Three is like that, but a more refined version for the type of people who have a season ticket to the Ideal Home Show. Here Scandinavian food is fused: so you get Norwegian salmon marinated in a Korean fruit wine. Revitalising.
Not one of those focus-grouped, box-ticking safe openings: at this Exmouth Market spot you get the 1970s cuisine you’d expect to see in the drab kitchenette of a Mike Leigh play. Proudly unsexy things like lamb faggots and chicken kiev are masterfully cooked and, freakily, made good.
When Pret launched a burrito last year, Mexican food officially became as disappointingly common a lunch option as walking the long way to avoid bumping into colleagues. But Santo Remedio revives Mexican cooking: no to fajitas, no to burritos – just wild kitchen sorcery like pork tacos caramelised with orange juice and Coke, and grilled cactus with sauteed sweetcorn.
Easy to write this one off as the most appalling slab of flailing-armed “look at me!” gimmickry: a pop-up serving baked potatoes exclusively. But wait! These are popadum-crispy and feel more like an industry-leading baguette with their posh-deli fillings. Try the one with chilli beef ragu and blue cheese.
The skinny-jeaned corpse of 2007 indie is risen and dragging its battered Converse to a venue near you
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