Anglo - London, UK

I never expected my first meal in London to be good. I was only going for edible, but I hadn’t counted on being shown around by a local. Maylea is an overachieving host, creating an accommodation so comfortable, I’d just as soon call it home. 

When not giving us access to every possible amenity, she also has local wisdom to share. Her wisest choice so far is Anglo, a subtle slipaway I never would have noticed. I’m told they recently opened, and they carry a creative, reasonably-priced tasting menu that holds some promise. I know Anglo is my angle as soon as I can see inside. The space is small, a handful of tables, an inescapably intimate ambiance and a single server with a lifetime of knowledge behind a youthful veneer.

The appetizers come in rapid succession; a sunburst of bright shreds of Crab under a frozen ice cap with a dashing prick of red pepper powder, 

a Beef Heart Kebab that tastes like a taco full of gentle, peppery jerky, 

and a creamy purée of Salt Cod that seeps into a crisp nori chip.

After the appetizers, there is a board of house-made sourdough bread. They let the yeast work it’s magic a lot longer than most so the extra sour gives the bread some earthier notes for a flavor-dense impact. They also add yeast to the butter to make it pop, and it draws out the creamy texture of the butter and the warm flavors of the bread. Grape seed oil is a lighter, less oily alternative to olive, and it possesses an extra tang that makes the sourdough bounce around your tastebuds.

The English Pea is the most surprising and easily the best dish. Rising out of a misty foam, they are a gentle guerrilla attack on the senses. The peas are sweet and fresh; in a way I’ve never tasted, a vegetable that opens a whole new world. There’s spring in their step as they coalesce with a black garlic murk and an earthy, wheaty whey that, in just the right ratio with peas and foam, barely hints at the bubbles of beer. 

Hampshire Trout sits smoky, firmly seared on the outside, soft as satin within. It finishes like smoked salmon before the smoking sets in. The tomatoes and summer squash are divinely roasted, but that bright, green courgette purée rises from below to steal the show.

The Goosnargh Duck Breast is a fowl steak, a primal blood-red beneath a brown, crispy skin. A chip conceals a smooth pate dip, and the plum adds a shocking tang to everything it touches. 

Caramelized onions have a barely-detectable sooty finish on the Cheese and Onion on Malt Loaf, and the mild-to-medium-sharp cheddar shaving make it snowball into a mix of vegetable carbs and cream.

Frozen Apricot emerges quivering with petit leaves of basil, and a crisp burnt-sugar shell finishes like caramel.

The Summer Berries are served with buttery shortbread, but it’s the foamy scoop of buttermilk that brings it all together. 

The bonus Blueberry Financier is still warm in my fingers. The shell is lightly crisp, and the inside is structured like a buttery Madeleine. 

I’ve been angling for Anglo ever since I tried the peas. Their menu is deceptively simple, a reasonably-priced and palatable progression that hits the high notes in a quiet, more subtle manner. There is no lack of genius nor ingenuity in this kitchen, and I would love to see more of this perspective.