Fay Maschler's five-star review of Barrafina Adelaide Street

The new Barrafina is a fabulously good place to have a vivacious, ambrosial and, incidentally, healthy meal. Fay Maschler urges you to queue patiently
Fay Maschler22 June 2015

I wanted to be there when the doors opened, so I texted my chum to see if he was on for meeting me at noon last Friday at the new no-bookings Barrafina Adelaide Street. He replied, “On it like a car bonnet,” which made me laugh. Those folk who live south of the river, they have a charm all their own.

Full disclosure here: I had visited this sibling of Barrafina Frith Street the previous week but it was during a soft opening when no money changed hands. This was to be the test when a price-quality ratio enters the equation.

The two Barrafinas are the work of brothers Sam and Eddie Hart — also owners of Fino and Quo Vadis — who were inspired by the tapas bar Cal Pep in Barcelona. They are immensely fortunate in having Nieves Barragán Mohacho in charge of food and José Etura running front of house, both masters of their craft. Sam Hart had said to me that he supposed the menu at the Covent Garden Barrafina (they call it Covent Garden, it isn’t really) was going to be pretty much like the Soho original, but the grip, energy and inspiration of Nieves means that almost 80 per cent of the list differs. On top of that there are dishes of the day.

At 11.50am I arrive to find Scott in deep communion with his phone. Assuming the doors are locked, we bristle when a couple, bold as brass, just walk in but they are soon shooed out. On the stroke of 12 we are the first inside and find pole position opposite the Josper oven where the marble bar counter makes a little curve to the right.

The obvious aperitif is Hart Brothers special selection Manzanilla Pasada en Rama (bottled unfiltered), which we drink while listening to a recitation of the specials inscribed on a hand-held blackboard. Turbot, small half at £20.50, catches my eye. From the printed menu section Para Picar (the dreadful English word “nibbles” seems to be a translation) I am definitely wanting the pan con tomate. Crab croquetas (two) also beckon.

The crushed tomatoes and the seasoning of them exhibit the perfect simplicity — or deceptive simplicity — that underpins the whole meal. It is a rare and rousing quality seldom experienced in big city restaurants, more often furnishing the stuff of holiday nostalgia. Tranche of turbot occupies the minute window of opportunity between too rare to bow to a knife and too done to capitalise on its opalescent imperviousness. A slug of ajillo (olive oil, garlic, flat-leaf parsley) given a kick with chillies coats but doesn’t muffle the bold burnished piece, plenty for two to share — although I did slightly regret not taking the “big half” for £24.80.

Next comes herb-crusted rabbit shoulder with a black olive emulsion followed by a heritage tomato salad with avocado and (unheralded but welcome) fennel, again dressed as if in couture. Meanwhile, the seats are filling up and it doesn’t take long before all 29 are occupied and those waiting have their names and estimated queuing times written on a mirror opposite the door.

Waiting — but not waiting long — for chicken wings Mojo Picón (garlic and red pepper sauce), I take in the graceful and totally effective choreography of the staff. Watching — mostly under sufferance — recent World Cup games I did occasionally sense what is meant by the beautiful game but here everyone passes politely and scores a goal. Every time. It is a joy to observe but the greater pleasure is being on the receiving end of dishes such as milk-fed lamb’s brain — the sort of lovable softness inside a frangible coating that we imagine our own nervous system to be — and then braised ox tongue with crushed potatoes.

Our final joust with asaduras (offal) is with grilled lambs’ kidneys served with their delectable suet shriven and crimped on a metal grill with a piece of still smoking charcoal underneath to keep the meat warm.

If the Guild of Restaurant Critics allows, I can also point you towards dishes such as wonderful arroz de marisco (seafood rice), classic tortilla, bosomy deep-fried stuffed courgette flowers and white asparagus with a sauce the Spanish may call Maria Rosa, which we enjoyed on the evening we didn’t pay.

Prices for what in large part are expensive, sometimes luxury ingredients are clear and fair. Wines, too, are reasonably restrained but note that servings by the glass are 125ml. New to me and serendipitous discoveries are The Flower & The Bee 2012 Coto de Gomariz at £7 a glass/£35 a bottle and Vilosell 2011 Tomas Cusine £7 a glass/ £26 a 500ml bottle.

I urge you to queue patiently for Barrafina Adelaide Street. It can stand as an admirable example of achieving ideal Human Factors and Ergonomics (HF&E) or just a fabulously good place to have a vivacious, ambrosial and, incidentally, healthy meal.

10 Adelaide Street, WC2 (020 7440 1450, barrafina.co.uk). Mon-Sat noon-3pm and 5-11pm. A meal for two with wine, about £110 including 12.5 per cent service.

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