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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;
The Guardian
04-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
One Club Row, London E1: ‘Battered stuff, things in buns, strong drinks: a thrilling, retro ride' – restaurant review
As a name, One Club Row sounds a bit like the title of a 1990s lads' mag, but it's actually a purposely shabby-chic room above a pub in Shoreditch that serves martinis, oysters and schnitzels in a heady, tipsy, twinkly atmosphere that itself may well remind you of the 1990s. Or at least it will if you were 'on the scene' back then. These days, the 90s are synonymous with louche, raffish semi-pandemonium, mainly because today feels so saintly in comparison. No 90s restaurateur ever offered reclaimed spud peelings as a starter or a kombucha-led, alcohol-free drinks flight to spare your liver, complete with an earnest lecture on zero-waste hospitality. Puritanism was definitely out there back then, yes, though mainly only in The Cranks Recipe Book. But mindfulness? Not so much. What One Club Row and similar London establishments such as the Devonshire in Piccadilly and the Plimsoll in Finsbury Park seem to offer, is a thrilling, retro glimpse of mindlessness. Battered stuff, things in buns, strong drinks – and the sense that, at any point, you might cop off with one of Shed Seven or Wendy from Transvision Vamp. In that same spirit, the Knave of Clubs downstairs calls itself 'a proper pub' where dogs are welcome and you can 'have a pint and a packet of crisps'. There are bags of Tayto's, scotch eggs and toasties on the bar menu, and Sunday roasts. On a side street behind the pub, One Club Row has its own separate, neon-signed door, a hole in a graffitied wall, that opens to a wooden staircase – think 1990s squat party – that leads up to a long room where, by 8pm, the party will already be in full swing. Elegantly, of course – this is not a bun fight – with rather sexily dim lighting, and a long bar where you can eat a plate of pickled jalapeño gougeres while sipping one of their four house martinis (club, classic, French or olive oil). Obviously, if, like me, you remember the 90s from their original incarnation, by 8pm you may well be thinking: 'Gosh, it's a bit late', and 'Why is the font on this menu so faint?' and 'Hang on, is this actually Les Trois Garçons?! I thought I'd been here before!' If that all sounds rather expertly staged, then thank owners James Dye and Benjy Leibowitz and chef Patrick Powell for that. It's all very well creating a buzzy, laid-back, convivial vibe, but with Leibowitz on the floor, alongside general manager Niall Harte, things stay the right side of fancy. Powell, meanwhile, has been one of my favourite chefs for quite some time, particularly at his former Michelin-starred Allegra in Stratford. Here, however, his menu is much more hearty than fussy or finickety. There are croquettes filled with lobster and ham, roast scallops in confit garlic butter and thick French onion soup topped with comté and gruyere. We began with a round of those gougeres laced with cheese and sweet, spicy chilli, plus one of the chunky, crisp lobster croquettes, which dance a dainty line between an Antonin Carême classic and a Findus crispy pancake. A classic steak tartare with beef-dripping bread, dressed with crisp baby gem leaves, was really very delicious, as was a remarkably pretty tuna crudo, arranged artistically with teeny slices of pickled celery and draped over a rather funky blend of smoked aubergine, creme fraiche and lemon. Zingy, smoky, delightful. Mains are marginally even less cheffy, and major on the likes of fishcakes, pasta, moules frites, meatballs, a ribeye with chipotle mayo to share, and so on. Hell, there's even a burger, and they won't even resent you for ordering it. This 250g grass-fed specimen, served almost rare, may not quite be the best fancy burger in London, but it's certainly nothing to complain about, either. The accompanying sauce au poivre, however, was a little weak and drab in comparison. The fries – just fries, mercifully, rather than truffled or faffed with in any way – come separately, with a little bowl of aïoli. A whopping pork schnitzel in a sauce moutarde with added gorgonzola was a feisty combination and, considering its size, felt a bit of a challenge. For dessert we shared a Dutch baby with chantilly, blueberries and optional smoked bacon. What is a Dutch baby, you may ask – well, it's what those of us in this parish call a yorkshire pudding. One Club Row isn't fine dining by any means, and some things still need a little fine-tuning, but that isn't really the point. They will feed you, water you, give you a good time and make you feel carefree and cosseted. And if that all sounds a bit old-fashioned, then the future suddenly feels a whole lot brighter. One Club Row 1 Club Row, London E1, (no phone). Open dinner only, Tues-Sat, 5.30-11pm. From about £50 a head for three courses, plus drinks and service
Time Out
27-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Time Out
The 15 best rooftop bars in London, mapped
The sun is out. Kind of. Almost. It's peeking through the clouds at any rate, which means there's no better time for you to ditch pubs with ceilings and opt for a bar that's open to the elements. We recently revealed our list of the best, non-naff rooftop bars in London. To make it easier for you to work your way through them, we've now popped them all onto a map. Use it to traverse your way through the Peckham rooftop spots, from Frank's and Forza Wine (the National Theatre edition of which came top of the list) to Bussey Rooftop Bar, or let it guide you through Hackney's high-up establishments, including Netil360 and Dalston Roofpark. There's a newbie on the map too – Setlist, which is the rebranded terrace space at Somerset House. It launches for the summer season on May 8, and James Dye of Bambi, and Frank's as well as Clement Ogbonnaya of the Prince of Peckham are behind the custom soundsystem as well as a full-throttle events programme. Food also promises to be a strong point, with chefs Opeoluwa Odutayo, Sophie Wyburd, and Terri Mercieca of Happy Endings holding court in the kitchen.
