Pidgin

Modern European

52 Wilton Way, E8 1BG

£££

Pidgin is a small neighbourhood restaurant based a short walk from Hackney Downs. They have been open for 7 years now and have served over one thousand dishes to hungry mouths craving culinary excellence. I remember reading about Pidgin a when it opened: the brainchild of two friends, with the idea of serving a weekly changing tasting menu, and never serving the same dish twice. Simple - in theory, but incredibly complicated in practice. Pidgin’s tasting menu is 9 courses for £65pp – it’s on the more expensive side of tasting menu’s I’ve experienced but given the rave reviews online and the beautifully photographed food on their website, I gave in and booked it as a treat for Tom’s birthday.

The location is unassuming and modest. Set on a quiet street, with a couple of other equally as trendy and ramshackle cafes and bars opposite: shabby chic would be the apt description for the establishments based around these ends. Inside Pidgin, they have managed to do a lot with the space, considering it is pretty much a small box room. There are around 8 tables of two inside, the walls are bright white, and the only décor around is a couple of potted and hanging plants. This manages to keep the space feeling light, airy, and not too confined, even though the reality is quite a squeeze.

There were two waiting staff on the day: a vibrant, warm lady who showed us to our table, and an energetic, quirky, ever so eccentric chap who was sporting a matrix style coat with a baseball cap: an outfit which may have stood out if it were seen anywhere but Hackney. Both waiters were attentive, informative and pleasant: helping us decide on a gloriously light and fruity bottle of Italian Red wine (£36) when our first choice had run out and explaining each dish and its components to us with and casual ease. We were seated in the back left of the restaurant, right next to the kitchen and had a great little insight into the action. I was primed and ready for the drama, but there wasn’t any: these chefs were some of the coolest, calmest, and collected fellas I’ve ever seen – they smiled when they saw us enjoying the plates and gave us a little wave when we left. It almost freaked me out with the lack of ‘fucks’ and ‘shits’ and ‘put it in the bin and start over’ I heard emanating from the kitchen. Are these guys robots, or just true professionals void of ego?

Onto the food – which is almost futile for me to write about, given that by the time you read this the menu will have already morphed into something deliciously new. Our journey began with a stone platter of four bite sized pieces: two with spring greens and whipped tofu, the other with venison tartare. I must admit, this first course was smaller than I’d imagined, so much so that I thought it was a little amuse-bouche before the main even began. The venison tartare was deep and gamey, the chew on the meat was complimented nicely with the crisp it was sat on. Similarly, the whipped tofu, though nothing spectacular was a lovely creamy texture on top of a fresh green, with a slight bite to it. Things started looking up when the next course arrived: potato ale bread with house pickles and whipped toum. The bread was warm, spongy, and slightly crisp on the outside. It had a brilliantly savoury, saltiness to it and was a perfect companion to mopping up the toum (essentially a middle eastern version of aioli). All great restaurants must have great bread – it sets a standard, a precedent for what is to follow. Plus, if the food really is that good, you need something to mop up all the delicious flavours with.

A beautiful plate arrived next, which romantically resembled a white rose that hadn’t quite reached bloom. The rose was in fact an onion on a bed of spinach, topped with pistachio and coated in a beef-dripping jus. Tom described one mouthful of this tasting like a whole roast dinner, and I think that’s a good way to envisage the mastery of this: so many flavours – none of which overpowering or dominating another, bundled on a teeny tiny plate. To follow was a portion of pollock, on top of mussels and cabbage. This dish was awash with flavours of the ocean, as one would expect. It looked pretty and dainty and tasted so accordingly. It was nice and light – nothing exceptional, but a welcome addition.

Next up was my favourite dish of the meal – a duck ham with mustard greens. The duck ham was sliced fairly thick and placed on top of a crispbread slathered with something closely resembling boursin cheese. The duck was dried and tasted quite smokey – it was chewy and salty, seeped with richness which was balanced out by the creamy cheese beneath. The chew from the duck, vs the softness of the cheese, vs the crispiness of the bread was another textural match made in heaven. Plus, this particular plate complimented our fruity red wine absolutely perfectly. Last up on the savoury agenda was wood pigeon complete with a pink tangy yoghurt and raspberries. The presentation was beautiful – strong pinks and yellows and greens burst from the plate. I’m still unconvinced as to whether I would pair pigeon with raspberries - I guess it does work when it comes to chicken and cranberry, but these are both lighter flavour options than seen here.

To end with, we had not one, not two but three dessert plates. Now, whilst some might marvel at the opportunity for three puddings, I was less impressed and would have way rather another savoury option before moving to closing time. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth, however I was pleasantly surprised with the Apricot clafoutis. It was baked to ultimate tenderness and wrapped in a wafer-thin layer of batter, giving it a slight crunch on the outside. It was a simple dish, one which I would never think to make myself, but it was beautiful, and I would gladly eat it 10 times over. We were then gifted with a Black Forest Gateaux, to which Tom later described as the enemy of desserts “no one ACTUALLY likes Black Forest Gateaux”. Whilst I thought this version was perfectly pleasant, I do have to take Tom’s side (just this once). The sharp cherries cut through the richness of the chocolate cake, and whilst the actual structure of the gateaux was exceptionally done, the overall impression was just a bit ‘meh’.

Lastly, we were given a tonka bean raffaello and strawberry pate de fruit: both very impressive from a technical and taste perspective. Essentially like two small pieces of something resembling Turkish delight – the strawberry version was a little sharp and reminded me of the healthy versions of fruit winders my mum used to pack in my lunchbox. However, the raffaello was absolutely stunning. Having never tried tonka bean before in any capacity, I was pleasantly surprised at the decadent caramel, cherry, almond and vanilla notes that came through.

Overall my experience at Pidgin was a good one. The staff were friendly, the location and interior trendy yet welcoming, and the food a balance of textures and flavours that complimented each other well. Whilst I can’t really fault anything I ate; I equally wasn’t blown away by really any of the dishes. The food came out in good time - not too long between courses but enough time to cleanse the palette and get excited for what was to come, and at the end I left a very comfortable level of full. However, given that this was the most expensive tasting menu I’ve had to date, was it worth the £180 bill at the end? In all honesty, probably not. Everything was nice – but nothing was mind blowing. It was missing that moment where I closed my eyes and savoured the flavour, wishing it to never end. The verdict is that Pidgin is a really nice experience, but not a particularly memorable one.

OVERALL RATING: ****

https://www.pidginlondon.com