Restaurant of the Week: Tavern, London

For a gothic-inspired bistro alight with flickering candle-lit tables and sheepskin-draped seats, stepping inside Tavern on a particularly sweltering Friday evening was strangely soothing. A stressful afternoon and a broken office aircon well and truly behind me, I was bullheadedly ready to try the raved-over new spot in town for myself, which sees game-forward Nest get one great, incandescent glow up.

Where Nest brought rustic, bucolic roots and docile, hearty plates of Yorkshire grouse, bird terrine and liver parfait, Tavern arrives with similar foundations and one or two remnants of its late sister – but with many an invigorated and edgier feather to its bow. Nest was known and not disliked, but given most Shoreditch-goers wouldn’t be seen dead in wellies or tweed, it may have been a little beyond its neck of the woods in the ever-modernising surrounds.

Winding through the curved layout of the restaurant, round the counter-bar to the generously gaping windows on the other side of the wall, the atmosphere of diners was high-spirited and liberated. Intimate tables of diners leant in and chattered over pickled, cured pork martinis on white tablecloths in a way that felt like we were all soaking up the madness of the heat in one fantastical bubble.

With the sunlight gushing in, my guest and I accordingly request margaritas, which arrive promptly, with the zesty, energising kick that was needed. We move on to a marvellous trio of tear-apart fire bread with a punchy tomato layering on its head, prettier than they sound ‘chunion’ balls of silken choux pastry emboldened with onion, molten cheese and stout gel and – if I may call it – the world’s most refreshing oyster. Each taster we had stood for entirely different moods, even values, but on another visit I would ask for each one again, in unison.

Next it was time to order ourselves a bottle of rosé to match the Provence climes. As I tasted the salmon-pink house we went for, our waiter asked with a smile “tastes like wine?”, which was a fitting epitome to Tavern. The glass was enjoyable as can be, it was a crisp and pleasant pour, but there was little stuffiness or pretentiousness as accompaniment. Instead, there’s a confidence in the air. Rather than self-assuredness materialising from the abyss, much of the team is built on talent from none other than Restaurant St Barts – including chefs Brendan Appleby and Kirsty Easterbrook and co-founder Johnnie Crowe. Here, they take the same low-intervention, highly-thought-out approach applied to the Michelin-starred restaurant in Smithfield, but within this much more care-free, slightly eccentric setting

Next up, was a raw wagyu beef tostada, delivered with a seasoning of colourful flowers and central quail egg. Beautifully presented, it was a balanced pairing of crunch and suppleness, though I must admit it was quickly forgotten for the next dish. This was the most tantalising of all – the sirloin steak – delicately and richly seared and novelly complemented with a syrupy, full-bodied blackberry sauce. I purposely let the sharing plate mentality of the restaurant slide here, with my fork continuously creeping back to the plate, while my guest happily, unknowingly enjoyed the nutty mushrooms in a bubbling roasted yeast and barley bisque.

The menu may change by the time you get there and the sunshine won’t stay all year. But neither of those will prevent Tavern from growing into a bold, slightly eerie new East London staple – that certainly knows how to charm.

To book your seat in the modern taphouse, head to tavernlondon.co.uk