It’s a cold, sunny Saturday morning in Dalston. Slightly hungover from the previous night, I’m walking down Queensbridge Road to have lunch at The Richmond, clinging my sheepskin coat around me.
It describes itself as an elegant restaurant specializing in oysters and raw dishes (ceviche, carpaccios, sashimi, tartares etc.). The menu looked great online; roasted poussin, raw scallops, pork belly with sweet potato and cavil nero. But it seems inconceivable that it’s down this road. There’s literally nothing here. Apart from a few fruit and veg shops; an ominous cluster of high rise social housing and rows of quite beautiful, but dilapidated, Georgian houses. I wave my phone around to check my Google maps is working. It is.
After 10 minutes of hesitant wandering we arrive. It’s so windy outside they’ve locked the doors, and so we knock to gain entry. Inside I immediately start to relax. It’s warm, and inviting. Entering through a thick door curtain, the soft lighting, and dark, deep brown tables create an instantly calming and refined atmosphere.
We order cocktails. An Irish coffee for me; and a French 75 for my companion. We’re sat down at a table near the glass topped bar, behind which a sushi chef is serenely slicing sashimi. The Irish coffee is powerful and well mixed. I’m slipping into a hazy, self-satisfied tranquillity and I feel the tension in my spine disentangling itself.
As you’ll know, finding an unpretentious, reasonably priced, top quality restaurant for lunch on a weekend in London, which is not filled with tourists, or babies, or recently graduated yuppies being treated by their parents, is almost impossible. But here in The Richmond there are perhaps only four other tables occupied and they’re all at a good distance away from each other, allowing both for intimate conversation and freedom from irritation.
This is obviously because of its location. At about ten minutes walk away from the nearest Overground station and nowhere near any other attraction, if you’re eating at The Richmond you either live around the corner, or you’ve made a conscious decision. In both cases, the decision you’ve made is a good one, because I can’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed in a London restaurant.
I’m woken out of my languor by our friendly, unstuffy, knowledgeable waitress. The Richmond prides itself on being the only “Oyster and Raw Bar” in East London, so I order the Bonito Sashimi; my companion orders the Mussels (her reasoning against going raw: it’s cold outside).
Then mains. I’d been eyeing up the Roast Poussin online before we got here, but the Shoulder of Lamb with tomato confit and samphire sounds delicious, and the Irish Coffee has darkened my taste buds slightly, so I go for that; while my guest orders the hake with sour cream, broccoli florets, and bacon lardons.
The sashimi is exquisite. Finely diced, it’s served like a tartare without the addition of condiments. Light, delicate, the fish a pretty pinkish hue, it’s like putting on a beautiful, pristine, white cotton shirt in a pure white New York apartment. It lifts the mind with every mouthful. The mussels, meanwhile, are big, fat things; the colour a gorgeous ochre yellow. I greedily steal a handful.
The aperitifs are finished; and trusting our waitress’ knowledge I’m handed a deep, layered Grenache from the Languedoc, and a floral Sauvignon Blanc from the Loire for the lady. Unsurprisingly, they both go excellently with the mains. The shoulder of lamb is tender and rich, almost chocolatey. The tomato confit and samphire wraps around the muskiness of the lamb, adding a sweet sharpness. The hake, meanwhile, is delicate – my guest’s eyes rolled back when she ate her first morsel, which I assume is an indication of excellence.
Dessert was shared. Apple beignets, and a financier with cinnamon baked pears. Both made a fitting end to an incredibly satisfying meal.
You can get food like this elsewhere around town – although admittedly you’d be hard pressed to find better raw dishes – but you won’t get it as inexpensively, nor in such calming surroundings. Which is why this “neighbourhood” restaurant really benefits from being in this neighbourhood. If The Richmond were in Angel, or Hampstead, or even Richmond, it’d be rammed full with noisy families and gaggling groups. Thank God it’s in Dalston.
The Richmond, 316 Queensbridge Road, London E8 3NH. Website.
