I think Rochelle Canteen is one of a handful of restaurants that has never disappointed me. Along with Brawn, it finds itself on the rather short list of things that I miss having on my doorstep since I left London.
I was due to meet a friend for lunch at Rochelle Canteen but sadly he became entangled in the indeterminable frustrations of hospital visits and recursive medical tests. As much as I was disappointed to not see my friend, my stomach and nostalgia convinced me that it was necessary to keep the booking.
In his stead, I was joined by my in-laws who as retirees, were very amenable to the idea. They can generally be lured out with the promise of food, sunshine and a good time. I've also been on at them to visit for years and an annual summer lunch seems to have turned into an informal tradition. Last year we visited Kol in Marylebone and after a stop at the Gibson Garage en route, my mother-in-law found herself with a £12k Gibson Les Paul Custom in hand and the offer of a live amp stack to plug it into. I should point out that she doesn't play and the guitar (in mahogany) was her fighting weight.
I think I first strolled into Rochelle Canteen around 2009, not long after we moved to Shoreditch. The entrance wasn't as clearly labelled as it is now and took some searching (access is through a non-descript door marking entry to the old Rochelle school bikeshed) but our reward for perseverence was a memorable lunch involving new season lamb and gremolata. It was only open for part of the week in those days too if I recall. It still retains the charm and character of the early days but since food writers 'discovered' it, getting a table is harder. I feel the restaurant will always be at its best in summer when the doors are thrown open to the walled garden - the atmosphere palpably changes and the ingredient-led menu is at its freshest and most diverse. In summer, avoid a table inside, the fires of hades are temperate by comparison due to the heat from the kitchen.
The menu did not disappoint on this visit and we had a late booking due to earlier commitments which meant the specials board was adorned with strike throughs. Ham & Melon, Roast Cod Cheeks and Trout Pil Pil Sauce. A Roast Grouse with Game Crisps, Bread Sauce, Watercress and Crab Apple Jelly. All for another time, if to be repeated.
I chose braised Octopus as my starter. If I had drowned in the braise, I would have died happy. There was an underlying, and unusual for such a dish, herbal sweetness that I traced to pickled shallots - perhaps infused with star anise and bay. It was an unexpected pairing, original, and it worked beautifully.
That’s what I love about Rochelle Canteen: It’s pleasingly clever and comforting cooking without being pleased with itself. My main course — a baked cod steak portioned on a bed of creamed sweetcorn — was also excellent and has inspired me to create my own interpretation at some point. Creamed corn is not really a thing in the UK, but I have a recipe that involves finely diced shallots, cayenne pepper and Worcestershire sauce, which is incomparable for the depth of flavour it lends to the dish. It came from Great British Chefs and originates from the American South.
After lunch, I ambled down to the Tate Modern to see the Emily Kam Kngwarrayy exhibition. The scale of the paintings, their nuanced detail and the colour palette were beautiful. You have to fold yourself into the images and let your eye follow their form. Their scale does not translate to reproduction in a book and staging in a volumous space like the Tate allows the work to breathe. It also allows more people in at a time and the exhibition space felt overcrowded and compromised for it. If you go, I'd recommend visiting just after it opens or 1-2 hours before the Tate closes.
A number of UK museums thoughtfully operate quiet hours or relaxed hours events - while primarily designed for neurodivergent visitors, they're a welcome and inclusive concession.
Grateful to leave the frenetic scenes of the Tate, I walked out onto a post rain South Bank. The skies were dramatic in the aftermath of the cloud burst and I had a concept for an image but I needed more time to realise it. Despite being a failed image, I'm drawn to this shot.
I only shot a few frames before wending East to Liverpool Street via the Millennium Bridge and Farringdon. A brief stop to photograph Black Eyed Susans at St Paul's / Cannon Street which had caught the late afternoon light provuded a welcome bright spot in the sea of urban grey. It's part of Tom Stuart-Smith's Reflection Garden.
