
Shellfish bisque

Shellfish bisque
Great seafood, maybe about £40 for two courses – so not the cheapest seaside shack, but the quality was great and they’ve got a good drinks list of chilled wines, spritzes and cocktails to swig with it. Worth knowing.
Having said that, we actually chose the “mixed pairing” which means half the drinks are some well-chosen wines, the other half are interesting botanical drinks that they’ve built from ferments and shrubs to try and capture the same character as some of the wines, but in a non-alcoholic form. These were very good, especially a darkly oak-smoked drink reminiscent of a peaty whiskey, although typically they all tasted a bit sweet and less refreshing than the wine alternative.
The dining room at the WHP is lovely, a beautifully airy space with handsomely smooth wooden furniture and a mixture of rustic and industrial decor. It feels strangely out of place when you discover it after winding your way through the unrefined back streets of Bethnal Green. Service was friendly and professional, and they spend a good bit of time introducing their dishes, drinks and ideas.The snacks to start included a wonderful sweet tomato broth with fresh peas, nicely glazed slivers of onion and lardo on a little brown crumpet that was a bit too worthy, and a nifty tartlet of skilfully cured trout diced with beetroot and humming with coal oil. There were some lovely starters: diced oyster and cucumber with a bright sorrel granita on top and herb oil to drizzle over. Dreamily creamy custard of scallop corals, covered in a disc of sweet magnolia jelly and topped with brown crab “caviar” pearls. This was a stand-out little dish. Then again, so was the deeply caramelised scallop that came next, served on little ribbons of celeriac also caramelised gently down until they tasted more like little strips of toffee apple.
One dish did miss the mark. The “cullen skink” of pearl barley, mussels and smoked haddock was overwhelmed by a sauce containing a huge whack of Laphroaig whisky. It’s the peatiest of whiskies and I use it carefully even in bold cocktails, here it was just too much. Pity, as I liked the dish and the smoked haddock slices were beautiful.The main of hogget was back to excellence and balance, served with an interesting dollop of “black pudding” made with mushrooms, kojis and other non-meat cleverness. Nice piece of hogget, the fatty edge nicely browned and packed with all the flavour. Previously a remove of hogget sausage with leftover bread dumplings in a root veg broth was pleasant but missing something to lift the earthy flavours.
Feeling stuffed by now, we still loved the dessert, a neat disc of a very beautiful caramelised cream, silky with a texture like a good creme brulee but with a cleaner and richer flavour. Pear dice and pine nuts made for an unusual and delicious pairing underneath. The petit four was a “singing hinnie” which is like a tiny currant-filled welshcake, dotted with lavender flowers and served with cream whipped up with that potent hum of Laphroaig again. Less overwhelming in this context!At £125 this is a strong tasting menu, with a real sense of its own character. I particularly enjoyed the non-alcoholic pairings, although that said I’m pleased we mixed some wine in. I’d definitely recommend an outing to Bethnal Green and dinner at The Water House Project.
So we were happy to find Sentosa, newly opened in Bermondsey and providing chilli and black pepper crab as their star menu items, alongside lots of other Singaporean/Malay favourites like laksa and char kuey teow. We’ll have to come back to try them, because today was black pepper crab day!
We did grab starters of crispy veg spring rolls and roti canai (oh, and I can recommend their iced Malay coffee). The spring rolls were moreish and crisp on the outside, very trad, just as I remember them. The roti was as perfectly crisp, flaky and chewy as any other specimen in London and the little bowl of potato curry was gently warm and fragrant, perfect for dipping in though I’d have preferred it a bit thicker. However, since the crab arrives 30 seconds after the starters arrived (why does this keep happening lately?!) the roti was also perfect for spare black pepper sauce!And their midnight black pepper sauce was also tip-top and just as I remember: the first ferocious hit of pepper makes your nose run and leaves you wondering if you can keep going, then magically it all gets better after that, massively full-flavoured and punchy but very edible and terribly moreish. The sauce was puddled over a magnificent specimen of a crab, properly big enough for two to share, and they’d cracked each claw and leg in advance, the brown meat still clinging to the underside of the carapace. Nevertheless, it took us a solid hour to work our way through everything. Seriously. Whole crab isn’t something you can rush. And whole black-pepper crab is like no other whole crab dish.
Sentosa is a simple restaurant in the back of Bermondsey, it’s not fine dining nor designer-chic, but comfy and friendly. If you share a crab, you’ll end up around £35-40 each for food without drinks, maybe a bit more as even a big crab isn’t a massive meal. I can only have it occasionally – such a faff, but such tasty fun – so I’m actually more keen to hurry back and try some of the other Singaporean classics, which also look very keenly priced!
The food was very good too, though rather like the decor it has been refined a few steps away from the pure punch and bravo of Mexican cooking. We started with yellowfin tuna tostadas, a really punchy bite on perfectly crisp tostadas with a lovely honest maize flavour that balances well with the brightly dressed raw fish. Crisp garlic chips scattered freely added a great pugent hum. The other starter, beef tataki, included some generously thick and flavour-packed slices of
good fillet, just seared on the edge, artfully platted on a dark lake of very tangy, deep and earthy mole sauce. Highly recommended! Only wanting a light meal, we picked out two tacos: the ensenada, a lovely chunk of lightly battered cod, and the pork rib taco. The long stick of pickled cucumber with the fried fish looked a bit spartan on the plate, but was actually splendid and very moreish – I came close to ordering another round. The scotch bonnet mayo could have been a lot more punchy, though. The pork rib was equally good, with a warm and gentle chilli flavour (that could, again, have been a lot hotter for my taste). Our side dish of crispy potatoes was another moreish one, chunks of properly scrunchy fried potato topped with chipotle mayo and some salsa verde buried beneath.Mention must be made of the cocktails! We both had mezcal variants, Maureen’s a margarita and mine a negroni, and both were superb. Albeit they pushed the bill up a bit. For food we spent around £35 each, but that was definitely a lighter meal. Still I’m sure £45 each would be a properly full feast. For Chelsea, and for the lovely ambiance, I don’t think that’s bad at all.
So what did we have? I started with a spring “vignarola” salad of artichoke, peas and broad beans. It was very much exactly that, lightly dressed in mostly oil with not enough herbs to come through. And the few bits of artichoke were happy with that, being so full-flavoured, but the peas and beans left to their own devices were… well, it was basically like a side-order of peas and beans rather than a scrumptious starter. Maureen had five slender spears of asparagus, simply cooked, with a grating of a powerfully good hard cheese on top. Was nice, but £18 is toppy for five slender spears.
My main was the dish of the day; gnocchi with lamb neck ragu. Both elements were knock-out, as I’ve never had gnocchi before that were so light and silken, like munching on big fluffy pillows of gentle potato. And the rich lamb neck, cooked to slippery unctuousness with the tomato enhancing the already deep flavour of the meat, was the perfect pairing. Maureen’s crab linguine was a disappointment by comparison. The crab flavour was detectable through the pasta, but only delicately so, and so it was basically “quite nice” rather than something you’d lean over to your neighbour and insist “go on, you must try this!” Again, for £20 that might be okay, but for £38 it’s frankly disappointing.You’ll pay £60 for three courses before drinks, and the dining room is soothing and informal, the service attentive and friendly. Maureen’s pannacotta was a very nice specimen of the wobbly dessert, made fresher through the use of buttermilk. My lemon polenta cake was fine, but I make a better one (at least to my tastebuds!). But that’s my problem with this particular breed of Italian restaurant, which has been around London since River Cafe opened its doors. The food is all good, I just can’t make it add up to the bill at the end. Let’s go to Padella or Manteca instead.