By Mallory Legg
A few months ago I wrote an article defending Thomas Straker and his brand (which you can read more of here), claiming that, gossip aside, his success should not be accredited to his enviable viral lifestyle or to buzz worthy menu items that are only ordered because he came up with them. Straker’s is not just a status symbol, I said, Straker’s is worth the hype.
The other day, I ventured across London and went back to Straker’s with an empty stomach hoping to defend my very stubborn claims. I’m glad I did, because if I hadn’t done, I’d have missed out on one of the best London meals I’ve had in months, and certainly one of the more memorable ones.
The London Outpost: Arriving at Straker's
Going off assumptions, I feel that Strakers, their staff and their computer system remember exactly who you are from the get-go, even including the option to submit a photo of yourself at reservation just to be greeted by name.
That said, the more you eat at Straker’s, the better your experience becomes. As reservations come and go, your table seating’s seem to develop in priority, and the number of wait staff who might check in on you increases. This was my second time at Strakers, and we had the best table in the house.
To begin, we ordered the flatbreads. One with vesuvio tomato and parmesan and the other with mussels and chili butter. While both were phenomenal, it is the mussel flatbread that has garnered so much attention and it was my first time being faced with it. This dish is, for lack of better words, life phenomenal. And it is not without the staff knowing, as two waiters informed us it might be a mistake to leave it out whilst they reviewed the menu with us.
Diving into the Straker's Menu
I, a bit skeptical as I’ve always struggled with the fishy sort, took one bite and regretted not getting a second over the also impressive tomato flatbread, it's just that good. Warm and dense in garlic and herbs minus the fishy flavor of many a tinned mussel, I was swept off my feet in this moment. Shockingly and despite its rich and dense looks, it was light and airy, making room for the next 7 dishes we would order.
Soon after fireworks went off with the arrival of the flatbreads, the crab toast arrived. Almost like a palette cleanser between the very bold flatbreads and the future green beans with grilled peaches, cashew cream and hazelnut, this fresh and crisp small bite worked well in its placement and separated the meal nicely. It has earned its spot on the menu, though it holds no flame to the flatbread.
The green beans are a vibrant edition to our order. And I’m sure any green salad that they craft in their kitchen might act the same. Though it would be wrong to say this plate was just a green option, the combination of the cashew cream and hazelnut together acted as a rich filler which bonded the sweet peaches to the almost bitter green beans.
It was a good show in texture and a chance for the kitchen to show how much they can do with only a few ingredients: refined with a bold palette. This was similar with the yellowfin tuna crudo with tropea onion and lime. The fish was melt-in-your-mouth glorious and unlike any sashimi I’ve had recently. While usually I give up the last bite to my fellow table members, I fought for this one.
On to the pastas. We began by only ordering the agnolotti with pea, mint and smoked paprika to which we were told by the wait staff we should probably get both pastas to fill our ticket and ourselves. Another brownie point for the staff, as the tagliatelle with girolles, parmesan and parsley was far and away the superior pasta course.
The agnolotti was fine but unimpressive, whilst the tagliatelle was soft and nearly melt-in-your-mouth like authentic pasta ribbons should be. The pastas were portioned perfectly and doused in parmesan (as all simple pasta dishes should be), and while the first of the two was boring in my humble opinion, the second picked up the slack.
Straker's Grand Finale: Dessert
We couldn’t get away without dessert, seeing rumours fly around that the doughnuts with strawberry jam and creme fraiche are the best item on the menu, having earned their rightful permanent spot in the ebbing and flowing list. With help from our server, we ordered them alongside the set vanilla custard with cherries and almond tuile. I thought the custard was fantastic, though largely portioned and incredibly decadent.
Pairing the custard with the doughnuts, though, made it worthwhile. This dish is unlike many desserts or attempts at doughnuts in high-end restaurants, specifically given a common habit of overdoing and over-enriching dessert plates. Taking a bite was unlike anything I expected—warm, light, airy, anything but doughy. The perfection of this recipe is the kind that other establishments spend years trialling and erroring. Dusted with sugar, I applauded the wait staff.
If there's anything you can take from this, it's that Straker’s, at the very least, puts forth lessons for every chef to learn: lessons in sourcing, texture, simplicity, and providing a memorable experience. Whilst the popularity of the establishment may have risen so quickly because of the online presence of its owner, it has remained a symbol of culinary prowess because of the minds and hands that run the place and I don't expect it to be going anywhere anytime soon.