Kol review – the new Mexican in need of a little extra spice
After first being announced two years ago, Kol finally opened its doors in October at a spacious site, directly opposite Giorgio Locatelli in Marylebone. The theme is Modernist Mexican, which makes its name a bit of a puzzle. Kol apparently means cabbage in Judeo-Spanish (and Malay) which is odd, given that there was no sign of this humble vegetable anywhere on the menu.
Pre-lockdown it was full since the day it opened. The reason for this enthusiastic response is because Santiago Lastra, the Mexican chef, was project manager for René Redzepi’s Mexico Pop up in 2017, so there is a sprinkling of stardust from the leading chef of his generation.
Despite the sniping from some who found it unpalatable to spend US$750 a head for René’s Mexican experience, the Pop Up was a great success, with a menu that featured dishes such as cactus with tamarind, grilled chillis stuffed with chocolate sorbet and tortillas filled with grasshoppers and tomatoes.
I have eaten at Redzepi’s Noma and also at his Pop Ups from Poland to Peru – and can testify he is a master at creating dishes that stun you with their juxtaposition of flavours and textures from local ingredients.
Santiago Lastra declares he is following the same path with Kol, though his ingredients come mostly from Britain rather than Mexico. Apart from a chef’s table menu, which wasn’t specified, there are only two options – four courses for £55 or £70 for the same dishes plus a langoustine taco.
Everything is prepared in an open-plan central kitchen area with efficient service from the predominantly Spanish staff.
The first amuse was a seaweed and chili broth served in a stoneware cup, which packed a satisfying umami hit and quite warming, perhaps thanks to some mescal, though the chilli sensation was purely surface and lacked depth.
Then there was a tiny scoop of pistachio mole with a scattering of salad leaves and a corn crisp. This could easily be visually confused with guacamole except that it was virtually tasteless, not helped by the dominance of the corn flavours from the challengely hard crisp. Next, the ceviche of kohlrabi was a thing of beauty and the only savoury dish that was served without a tortilla, taco or corn crisp. It was subtle and satisfying, assisted by the smoked beetroot cubes and an excellent side portion of chilli sauce. The langoustine taco was satisfyingly sweet and enhanced by squeezing the juices from its tailless body over it. However, it was hardly more than a mouthful given the size of the langoustine. The next dish was semi-raw lamb cubes, and a herb salad guajillo mayonnaise completely hidden by a large corn disc. Again, the corn flavours overshadowed the subtlety of the dish.
The main course we chose was the whole grilled octopus with bone marrow and a tiny cup of Jerusalem artichokes. The octopus, which came from Spain, was exquisitely cooked and meltingly soft. It was cooked in lamb fat, which wasn’t a problem but the accompanying bone marrow didn’t have any relevance to the main ingredient. In fact, it was a hindrance as it was caramelised with sugar, which made it sweet and sickly. The waiter’s suggestion was to wrap the octopus up in freshly baked tortillas, then add the bone marrow and artichoke. Again, I failed to see how the combination enhanced the experience – in fact, every dish was more satisfying if you actually stripped away the corn element.
The pudding was a traditional chocolate steam cake wrapped in a banana leaf with corn husk ice cream and sea buckthorn. The chocolate cake was more like a paste but everything worked well together.
There was a wine pairing for each of the two menus, ranging from £45 to £60, but given that the list had a preponderance of obscure natural wines from Georgia, Czech Republic, Croatia and Switzerland, I declined. There was a minor Chardonnay from Burgundy, which was priced at £96.75 (retail cost £22). Kol has a strict policy of no corkage, so the options are narrowed to drinking predominantly fringe wines, which they call the “new classics”.
To sum up, this was not a satisfying experience – there were not enough highlights or original combinations to stimulate the palate. A good example of how to succeed with this approach is Ikoyi, which is described as a Nigerian restaurant but is in fact a Modernist reinterpretation of Nigerian ingredients. There was precious little feeling at Kol that the combinations created something greater than their parts. Also, for the price, one would expect more generous amounts – the so-called whole grilled octopus we were offered for our table of three was in fact a quadrapus and the lamb dish was the only other one that might barely qualify as even starter sized.
Regardless of this, post-lockdown it will be a commercial and critical success, such is the marketing power of an endorsement by René Redzepi and the craving of the dining community for something apparently innovative and ground-breaking.
Kol Restaurant, 9 Seymour St London W1H 7BA
Set Menus – £55 and £70, https://kolrestaurant.com