He’s standing at the ham, slicing and sweating and we’re standing at the bar, waiting and salivating – there’s only a thin line between us. There’s been Fino and almonds and both have been lovely and the restaurant is warm and well lit; so we’re settled, but my god, I am desperate for that ham. José is the man. José Pizarro, chef-patron, is standing at the bar, carving away. That’s the way it should be, he’s not off doing TV, or writing a book; he’s behind the bar, pouring wine and looking dangerous. Eventually he throws it to us across the bar – a large plate of glistening Ibérico pata negra – and that’s it, we’re off.
The name José Pizarro may be relatively new to the block, but in truth it shouldn’t be. Pizarro has been delivering his particular brand of focused, seasonal, modern Spanish food to Londoners for many years, notably as head chef at Eyre Brothers, and subsequently as chef-patron at Tapas Brindisa. It is only recently, however, with an excellent cookbook, Pizarro – Seasonal Spanish Food, and the opening of two named restaurants, that focus has fallen directly on Pizarro, one of the finest Spanish chefs working in London. His first opening came last summer with José, a tiny yet perfectly arranged sherry and tapas bar on Bermondsey Street. José offers a wide range of superb sherries and Spanish wines alongside intense bursts of flavour that come from small plates of food and is not dissimilar in style or execution to one of the finer bars you might find in Madrid, Valencia or Barcelona. Now Pizarro has turned up like a grown-up brother – the familial similarities are there, but after an evening spent at the bar, it’s clear to see big brother has a little more bite and substance.
Bermondsey Street is one of London’s hottest new micro-economies. The street, which was once a quiet backwater between the bustle of London Bridge and the crime and urban deprivation of Bermondsey proper, is now booming. House prices have rocketed as the local environment has become more and more cool and gentrified, and when Jay Jopling opened a White Cube gallery here last summer, SE 1 became a new playground for the art world. The area has also become something of a gastronomic hotspot. Along with Pizarro’s restaurant there is the excellent Zucca, Village East for the New York vibe and a section of excellent pubs such as The Garrison and The Woolpack. The area is so well-served by a mixture of hip creative and moneyed city boys that a half-decent restaurant would really struggle not to succeed here.
Pizarro is certainly not struggling at anything. We arrive earlyish, and the place is heaving, I get a sense that it’s always heaving. As is de rigeur, the restaurant employs a strict ‘no bookings’ policy, so you’re generally expected to turn up, clock in, grab a glass of Fino and wait your turn. Pleasingly, on the night of our visit, our turn comes relatively quickly, and we’re seated at the bar, by the kitchen, in the thick of it, within twenty minutes of arrival which is pretty good going one supposes in a restaurant as busy and on-trend as this. The menu is pleasingly short and everything looks joyfully edible. There is a selection of around eight starters or small plates designed for sharing. They range in price from £5 for boquerones through to £20 for Jamón from Manuel Maldondo. After that there are four or five larger plates, plus daily changing specials. Wines are, of course, all Spanish and come by the bottle, carafe and several by the glass.
We’re hungry, so get stuck into a range of small plates. The Jamón is triumphant, about as good as Ibérico gets and as stated previously, cut into fatty, wafer-thin slices by the man himself. Prawn croquetas have golden-crisp exteriors set against the creamy-soft, lemony goo within. They are a genuine delight; we have a plate of five, but could have made it through twenty with ease. Our waitress informs us that the razor clams are at their yearly best, so we go for a portion of those cooked on the plancha grill with big chunks of rusty chorizo. They’re monsters – a world away from those apologetic little chunks that sometimes surface in lesser restaurants. The muscular, meaty strips fall from their shells looking ominous and mildly alien. They’re substantial and delicious, a fine route into the meal. Larger plates of salt cod with beans and lamb, lentils and radicchio both seem very simple on the plate, but express latent precision in a restaurant such as this where the pace is fast and the expectations are high. Both the lamb and cod are carefully cooked and particularly in the case of the lamb – exactly as requested. Rosy pink folds of lamb rump are tender, generous of flavour, yet approachable in a way that encourages sharing and welcomes informality.
José himself proffers reliable advice on good wines to accompany our mains – a solid, tannic Ribera de Duero for the lamb and a softer, fruit driven Rioja for the salt cod. We finish the meal on a high note with an engaging dish of chocolate, toast and caramel ice-cream and a glass of Oloroso. The chocolate is ganache studded with thin, crisp toasts and topped with sea salt and fruity extra virgin olive oil. It’s a delicious and carefully-constructed dish which to the untrained eye might seem messy, charming and slightly dishevelled. The pudding marks the end of a great meal and is, in a sense, representative of the restaurant as a whole. Pizarro works so well because it is relaxed, carefree and has a thrown-together appeal, but in truth relies on hard work, precision and unwavering professionalism…oh and on José, ham in hand at the bar.
Pizarro, 194 Bermondsey Street, London SE1 3TQ. Website.
Photography by Paul Winch-Furness.
