A superb Spanish acquisition
RESTAURANT OF THE WEEK ASADOR ⁄ SABOR
THE Yiddish use of the word “mensch” denotes a person of dignity, strength and honour. Happily, in these times of mercurial free-flowing gender, it is not specific to its derivation from the German word for man. A woman can be a mensch. Nieves Barragán Mohacho is most certainly one.
I have admired Nieves since I first encountered her when she was cooking at Fino in Charlotte Street (now closed), later at Barrafina in Frith Street and then at Barrafina Adelaide Street, where rather than rolling out an already highly successful formula she put together an almost completely different menu. Barrafina Drury Lane, with its own culinary personality followed — all three speaking perfect Spanish.
After 14 years of working for Sam and Eddie Hart, owners of Quo Vadis and Barrafina, with backers in the shape of JKS Restaurants, the sagacious group behind Trishna, Gymkhana, Hoppers, Bao, XU, Lyle’s and more, she has got her own establishment. In partnership with José Etura (another definite mensch) running front-of-house there is now a bar and tapas counter on the ground floor of premises located just off Regent Street called Sabor and up a spiral staircase a restaurant with an open kitchen and a wood-fired oven called Asador.
Sabor opened in early February, Asador late last week. Either this was a dastardly, cunning way of deflecting reviews or problems with the builders. My first visit is for lunch at Sabor, sitting at the counter that accommodates 19 people. The relationship of customer to cooks and servers feels more intimate than at the Barrafinas. Colourful, intricate Andalucían tiles on the back wall make their contribution.
You have to start with pan con tomate. That is an order from me. The scarlet intensity of the topping bolstered with chilli brings in the castanets. A wafer of cured meat sits on top cheering. Piquillo croquetas served under a shower of grated zamorano (nutty sheep’s milk cheese) heralds the Spanish affection for high-quality tinned food — the process actually benefitting the action — here of sweet red peppers. We consider arroz con salmonete (rice with red mullet) because word has got out about the gravity of its stock but choose instead chipirón (small squid) in its ink with cod and aioli, a striking composition in black and white.
A bar snack of the day — there is a separate bar area where you can drop napkins, thin and about as useful as onion skins, on the floor and drink vermouth on tap — is monkfish tempura, a brittle cloud, an ethereal crunch. Anxious also to eat our greens, we order a mound of emerald green kale chivvied with red Normande. “Campbell’s condensed mushroom soup sauce?” ventures my chum Anne.
The Delhi Pavilion’s Culinary Trail at the Sheraton New Delhi leads us to a superb aromatic dum-cooked biryani based on spiced jackfruit.
Lunch deal at Bloomsbury’s China chilli and for our fruit a rhubarb and mascarpone tartaleta that turns out to be the best rendition of this exigent stalk that I have ever come across. We order by the glass and then drink a bottle’s worth (at £28) of La Tremenda, a herby, appley blend of merseguera and chardonnay from Alicante from a cautiously priced list.
I go in a four to dinner at upstairs Asador. That way, sharing one of the long tables with strangers loses its terrors. The menu chalked on a blackboard hanging above the open kitchen with its copper cauldrons and eponymous oven is also designed for divvying up between friends. There is a choice of only two main courses, lamb cutlets with arrocina (small white haricot) beans at £24.50 or suckling pig at £38/95/190 for quarter/half/ whole. “I am a vegan,” squeaks Hannah, but she isn’t really.
Among the first courses, pulpo á feira, octopus
Prompted by Jay Rayner’s review of San Francisco’s Zuni Café, I roast a chicken. With no time for its pre-salting palaver, cooking time is further reduced by Jay’s sage advice to spatchcock the bird. cooked in the copper pans along with cachelos, potatoes cooked to winning softness in the octopus water, is a must. “Superb,” confirms Joe, one of my Irish potato correspondents, “but next time I would go for sweet not spicy pimenton sprinkled on the octopus”. Empanada Gallega, a pastry turnover filled with braised cuttlefish, is a work of art.
Suckling pig’s ears have fine threads of cartilage that the pork scratchings they resemble lack, plus they are puffier, more biddable and come with quince purée. Two of my chums, well trained, offer to go halves on the Vega Sicilia (one of Spain’s most prestigious wineries) Pintia listed on the board of fine reds. Its cordial complexity is ideal with the half little piggy we choose but seemingly grown on this earth to tango with the diced lamb offal and vegetables in savoury gravy that is frit Mallorquin.
The roasted pork falling easily apart under its frangible skin comes unadulterated but for a thrillingly large jug of clear gravy. It is a dish a bit like the pressed duck at Otto’s that you might save for an occasional treat and have alongside the exceptional tomato salad and chips with mojo rojo y verde, red and green sauces from the Canary Islands.
Uncompromising is another signifier of a mensch. To discover more of Nieves’s story there is now a book, Sabor, Flavours From A Spanish Kitchen, as well as recipes — but it’s easier, maybe, to head straight for Calle de Heddon.
@Fay_Maschler