Bert's Barges, Canonbury Tavern, Casa Cruz, Farmhouse, Fay Maschler, Giles Coren, Grace Dent, Ink, John Walsh, Marina O'Loughlin, Morden & Lea, Paradise Garage, Rachel Dixon, Richard Ehrlich, Sackville's, Social Wine & Tapas, Suvlaki Athenian Grill, The Independent, the Lanesborough, The Pointer, Time Out, Tom Chesshyre, Zoe Williams
Grace Dent calls newly opened Sackville’s an obscene, “London must-do” in the London Evening Standard
“Obscene isn’t a word many restaurateurs hope to see used in conjunction with their new offering, but in the case of Sackville’s — of Sackville Street, W1 — I trust they’ll understand. They might even take it as a badge of honour. Sackville’s is a newly opened truffle-based restaurant: burgers with truffle mayo, Wagyu rib-eye with truffle dust fries, baked poussin with truffle seasoning. Starters of carpaccio, asparagus and soup all arrive with some sort of truffly flourish. Are you getting the picture? There is an obscene amount of truffle being whipped and blitzed and shaved around here.
“But it works. Sackville’s is genteel, intimate — about 40 seats upstairs, cocktail bar downstairs — with a strong, beautiful cocktail list by the very talented Monica Berg. If one has a passion for fungi of the financially crippling nature, then Sackville’s is a sort of London must-do. It’s fun. Obscene fun, but fun nevertheless.”
The London Evening Standard‘s Fay Maschler reviews Paradise Garage and finds much to enjoy at Robin Gill’s third restaurant
“Young chefs, heavily stamped passports, small plates, unclothed tables, tattoos, Zone Two Tube stops, fizzing lactic acid, S&M butter, no offal left unturned, seeds and weeds, ponderous stoneware, recherché wines, obscure music tracks, approachable bills; it’s commonplace now. And thank the Lord for that.
“After opening The Dairy and The Manor in Clapham, amiable Irish chef Robin Gill has just opened his third restaurant, Paradise Garage, in Bethnal Green.
“The homemade sourdough is sensational. With a chubby cylinder of smoked whisky butter sitting in a puddle of its whey, it takes iron self-control to not — what my mother would inveigh against — spoil my appetite. The style of assembling and cooking attuned to harmony and counterpoint of flavours, with an eye to beauty, an acknowledgement of serendipity and what sometimes seems like input from fairies working their hands to the bone at the bottom of the garden is mercifully these days not so rare. In restaurant form, this Garage (or railway arch) is one more victory in the new way of eating.”