Zealotry in the kitchen pays off
A FEW months ago, I reviewed Dobson and Parnell, in which I got a bit irked by their claim to adhere to an “ethos”.
Who cares about the “spirit” or “philosophy” of a place? It’s absolutely no good if the chef can’t boil an egg.
So you can imagine my scepticism when I was informed I’d be reviewing Tapas Revolution, where the notion of a food mantra has been institutionalised.
Newcastle’s newest Spanish offering is as much a marketing operation as it is a restaurant.
Its founder, around whom a cult of personality has been carefully constructed, is chef Omar Allibhoy, a coiffed poster-boy whose website revels in his apparent reputation as the ‘Antonio Banderas of cooking.’
You can buy his little red book of tapas at the entrance, a hardback containing “120 simple, classic Spanish recipes”.
This revolution even has its own founding myth: the story goes that Omar, with all the zeal of a young revolutionary bubbling in his heart, drew a ‘T’ on a map of England and travelled the length and breadth of it, cooking on the way.
After this long march, he set up his first restaurant and, ever since, the revolutionary state of Omar has expanded aggressively, now occupying five different cities over seven branches.
And so where did Omar choose to found his latest outpost? Eldon Square ..... The restaurant itself is split in two. Inside, there’s a large bar and open kitchen which all looks rather inviting but regrettably we were informed food was only being served in the ‘outside’ area. By outside, I mean the part of the restaurant which spills into the shopping centre, and to that end the place doesn’t exactly provide the sleepy, dimly lit intimacy you might associate with a traditional Spanish tapas bar.
THE MENU
To the menu, which isn’t quite as sprawling as others you may have encountered in tapas joints, but for ease we order the “del chef” set menu for two (“show me what you got, Omar,” I whisper to myself).
The dishes are brought as they’re cooked, which has the pleasing dual effect of providing periodic surprises and concealing just how much you’re eating.
Compared to other tapas menus in Newcastle, this one is a little more expensive and our mains order sets us back £28. Do bear in mind, too, that everything is authentic Spanish, which Omar prides himself on.
The whole thing is hastily washed down with a jug of sangria which will set you back £14.95.
THE TAPAS
First up, the calamares fritos, which are unremarkable, and suffer from being served with a terribly bland garlic sauce.
The torreznos con mojo dulce disappoint too – as the name suggests, the sauce surrounding the cubes of meat is sweet but I found it excessively so.
Next, the pulpo a la Gallega, a traditional dish of octopus and boiled potatoes.
An acquired taste but well executed and it’s pleasing to see something a little bit left-field on the menu.
The croquetas de jamón are... well, who remembers the humble Cheese Hamwich?
Another offering from Bernard Matthews, it was the lesser known stable-mate of the Turkey Twizzler, abolished during another food revolution (Jamie Oliver’s Great Purge of 2005).
As with all of those former staples of the local authority school dinner, the shameful truth is that they were delicious. And so are the croquetas de jamón! Tapas Revolution does the basics very well. The tortilla de patatas is very good and the pan de la casa, thin strips of parma ham on hearty lumps of crusty bread, is deliciously satisfying.
THE DESSERTS
Spanish desserts are surely the most underrated of any European food culture.
We have the torrijas, a sort of bread and butter pudding affair which is ideal if you don’t want something too sweet.
And secondly, the magnificent crema Catalana, a custard dish with a crispy, caramelised top courtesy of a thorough blowtorching.
If you’d like something sugary but don’t have the stamina for an extra course, try the caffe bombon, a shot of espresso atop a layer of condensed milk.
FINAL THOUGHTS
The staff are fantastic - our lovely Greek hostess pulls off that neat trick of being permanently busy but never outwardly busied.
Money-wise, the whole thing set us back about £70, which is pretty steep for an average meal.
Although it’s fresh and broadly satisfying, in my view this isn’t the best tapas in Newcastle and, again in my view, Omar is guilty of over-promising and under-delivering.
If you’ve never had tapas before, this might serve as a decent introduction. Tapas Revolution is OK, but it’s about as revolutionary as your dad’s Che Guevara T-shirt.