I arrived first, and sat outside in the sunshine with my tumbler
of Sauvignon Blanc. At another table, a couple were finishing their platter of
mussels and jug of sangria. Although the place outside looks like any other
pub, this didn’t seem like central London at all. When S arrived we went inside.
The place is full of stripped tables and floors, naked plaster walls, with huge
garish mirrors, and the central bar (which divides the drinking area from the
laid up tables) full of ham slicers and nibbles. It felt like it had been
recently converted, but apparently it’s been open for five years.
There is a main meals menu (with sea bass and suchlike), but
we went for the tapas menu which was extensive, including a variety of national
dishes (hummus, aubergine salad, even Scotch egg) as well as traditional
Spanish ones. After much deliberation,
we eventually choose the plate of cured meats (prosciutto, chorizo, bresaola,
salami), the boquerones (anchovies), patatas bravas, and something called rojones
(paprika spices pork belly) together with a basket of bread.
The food arrived fairly promptly (we’d ordered quickly to
get ahead of a big group of 12 or so), and very attractively presented. The
meats came on a wooden platter, together with a dish of beetroot puree (a
lovely sharp flavour). The anchovies were vertical in a small bowl, looking like a
flower, and the patatas bravas complete with mayonnaise sitting on thick and spicy
tomato sauce. The rojones were lovely, despite having quite a lot of fat on
them – and it was a large portion.
Service was friendly and efficient without being anything
special. I had another tumbler of Sauvignon Blanc, and S had Rioja. A bill of
£38 (including service), seemed like excellent value, as I wandered off full
and happy to explore the village of Marchmont Street and Russell Square.
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