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Time Out
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Time Out
There's something faintly medieval about the menu
The Camberwell Riviera has surely reached its final form. The gastronomical possibilities on the lively Church Street strip are now nigh-on endless; there's the holy meat juice bread at FM Mangal, posh pub fare at the Camberwell Arms, burly bargain wraps at Falafel & Shawarma, lamb skewers at Silk Road, panuozzo and pizza at Theo's, Kurdish soul food at Nandine, superlative sarnies at Cafe Mondo, and cult croissants at Toad, as well as Vietnamese, Nigerian and Greek spots. Is there even room for another restaurant? Hello JoJo seems to think so. Though the concept doesn't bark originality (Hello JoJo is planning to open as a bakery by day, while in the evening it serves seasonal plates both small and large), when we visit on a Friday, the place is rammed. The people of Camberwell truly love to eat! Their name might sound like a brand that makes hemp dungarees for toddlers (and the red and blue colour scheme does give off some serious preschool energy) but the Hello JoJo crowd are pleasantly pitched in the mate date and actual date hinterlands. Everyone blethers raucously and the front door is propped open so you can enjoy the tender chugging sound of the 171 bus. Such heady conviviality is helped no-end by £6 glasses of house wine. A warm, mini loaf of brown bread comes to the table alongside a requisite pickle plate, and a serving of cool, deftly whipped goat's curd topped with a pool of luminous celery splodge and crunchy buckwheat bullets, as if tzatziki was actually invented in a Kentish beer garden. Better still is a bunny chow doughnut, Hello JoJo's confectionary-adjacent take on the savory South African street food, a pert pastry stuffed with aromatic curried aubergine that splurges its sloppy innards over our vintage crockery like a particularly gruesome Cronenberg scene. There's something faintly medieval about the food here, with the feudalism and foraging-worthy likes of borage, loveage and ramsons dotted across the menu, as well as something called 'pyghtle'. It sounds like it should be an ancient hallucinogen but is, in fact, cheese, and comes finely shaved and dusted onto a muscular lamb-and-nettle croquette. Like lots at Hello JoJo, this is hearty food that wears its heft lightly. Fried potato and smoked cheese dumplings in a buttermilk sauce are similarly butch yet fluttery, tasting simultaneously like a midnight Maccy Ds and a dainty weekend in Provence. A platter of creamy, flawlessly flakey hake comes with a swirl of coastal greens and a cider beurre blanc so brilliantly buttery that it might as well have you licking a slab of Kerrygold. In a few dishes, Hello JoJo has more than earned its place on the foodie freeway that is Camberwell Church Street. Welcome to the neighborhood. The vibe An energetic dining room for a cool Camberwell crowd that never lets you forget there's an art school down the road. The food Creative takes on classic dishes made with foraged and unique British produce. The drink Very drinkable glasses of house wine for £6 alongside local beers and zingy shrubs for the non-boozers.
Times
31-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Times
One Club Row review — ‘Nowhere on earth could possibly be more fun'
The other day I received a message: 'I beg you not to review One Club Row.' Already, barely a week into service, my friend — who follows restaurant trends the way most men follow their football club —could tell this was going to be the most fashionable place in town. 'I know I'll get sick of hearing about it,' he explained. So I immediately booked a table. What a place. Enjoy this review now because in, ooh, about two weeks' time you really will be sick of hearing about it. What a joy to walk into a little restaurant above a pub, at 6pm on a Wednesday, and instantly feel there's nowhere on earth that could possibly be more fun at this precise moment. Oh, and they have a taxi light outside to show if there are tables available for walk-ins. I love it. I shouldn't have been surprised. James Dye, one of the proprietors, also co-owns the Camberwell Arms — among the best restaurants in south London and the social hub of all those young parents who move to that postcode for a bigger house and a better life, because once you're in Camberwell it's impossible to get out again. The other owner, Benji Liebowitz, used to be the maître d' at NoMad, one of New York's most glamorous cocktail bars. It's the type of pedigree that would have you betting the house on a racehorse. Inside One Club Row We're in east London, of course. But there's something here that feels a little New York. Perhaps it's the seats at the bar kept for walk-ins, or the martinis. There's something of the Jeremy King grand café too: white tablecloths, schnitzel on the menu. But then there's also something new, captured by the stonewashed walls, original fireplaces and ceiling roses back from when this was just a boozer, and the bright, blocky modern art on the walls. It's a glorious mix of classic and modern. I feel a bit giddy — although maybe that's the martinis too. Because obviously we have a martini each. Our waitress makes it clear this is kind of the point. Josh has one with olive oil; I have the house: gin, with the tiniest, delightful hint of sweetness from a dash of Italicus liqueur and a sultry maraschino cherry lounging at the bottom of the glass. We snack on a lobster and ham croquette — perfectly decent. But then come pickled jalapeño cheesy gougères. I gasp as I bite into one. There's mustard in there, lemon too. A sharp sweetness to the chillies. Next, the starters: fat, flavoursome tomatoes on a thin film of stracciatella. Barbecued asparagus on labneh with hazelnut and lemon, the best thing we eat. Oh go on, let's get the tuna crudo. It looks so good on the next table and there's something about this place that urges you to empty your bank account. For mains, pork schnitzel with mustard sauce and — this is inspired — blobs of tangy, salty gorgonzola. Then roasted cod on a thick, decadent buckwheat polenta. Less to write home about but still functional. Again, we start staring lasciviously at the next table. The two women there have a bowl of mussels, accompanied by a plate of something quite majestic-looking. 'Please can we have just one of whatever that is?' we ask. Lobster and ham croquettes JUSTIN DE SOUZA The longed-for item arrives. The industrial term would be 'reconstructed potato', but don't think of it like that. Think of it instead as an incredibly delicate hash brown, formed into a long, thin, crispy chip. Josh takes a bite and his eyes light up. 'I didn't think there was anything new to experience from the potato, but here I am.' Finally, though we definitely don't need it, a Dutch baby pancake — basically a sweet Yorkshire pudding with blueberries, Chantilly cream and smoked maple bacon. American indulgence, European chic. A Dutch baby pancake JUSTIN DE SOUZA It's not cheap. That said, you could pay a lot less than we did, if you don't order a nice bottle of wine in a fit of excitement-induced profligacy, and don't try to eat the whole menu. The problem is, I suspect you will. There's something ineffable about this place that just lends itself to abandon. It makes you want to flirt with strangers, stay for five hours, throw your life up in the air and move to New York. As I head home, I consider each of these options. Instead I book another table for next week, before everyone else does. ★★★★★ 1 Club Row, London E1 6JX;
