We can describe Perilla as a neighbourhood restaurant in Newington Green that is run by chef Ben Marks (ex-Noma and The Square) and front-of-house manager Matt Emmerson (Polpo). Before opening their permanent site in November 2016, they hosted a string of successful residencies. The former children’s café features a colour palette of multiple shades of brown, from umber-tinged to teabag-dyed walls – a rustic Scandic aesthetic full of charm. Being a corner building, it has a huge curved glass frontage that floods the space with natural light. I like it. Of course, we perch at the kitchen bar to get the best view of the dozen or so young chefs constructing dishes they’ve spent weeks developing. Oh, and you may have heard of Perilla through its TV appearances – Chef Ben Marks was on Great British Menu, senior sous chef Adam Wood on the Million Pound Menu with his concept Coracle and Mark S competed on Masterchef the Professionals.
There is bread and then there is homemade seaweed sourdough with whipped brown butter £4. If you live and breathe good sourdough like I do, this is where you should play; it’s your thing. What arrives is an innocent brown paper bag stamped with the restaurant’s logo. Inside are quartered pieces of steaming hot bread with a crust full of crunch and snap. We found ourselves slathering the whipped butter – rich with caramel tones, into the gummy centre. This is the sweet science of bread-making done to a tee. We ordered two portions. I was genuinely sorry I couldn’t fit more in.
Then came the beautifully fresh gurnard £13, fried in beef fat until it forms a lacy, craggy batter made for maximum dipping action in their nutty chip shop curry sauce. The chef suggests using our hands for this dish – I didn’t argue. It’s adorned with fermented gooseberries and crisp curry leaves for some fragrant, mouth-puckering goodness. We found ourselves licking our fingers clean, coated in luscious oils and curry sauce – a sauce so good I couldn’t resist asking for the recipe, which was kindly scribbled down on a brown paper bag for me.
Next came the ragu of cod. Their version is made with tangles of monk’s beard greens instead of pasta, and a meaty, slow-cooked stew of red wine-braised cod head ragu. Crunch comes from toasted bottarga breadcrumbs.
Next came the sea spaghetti vongole (£13.50). A vongole is, by tradition, an Italian classic made with spaghetti and clams. Here, though, you get kelp noodles and a palpable hit of brine — whether that’s from the sauce, the clams, or both, I’m not sure, but order it if it’s your thing. It just wasn’t mine.
The cheeky wink to Spain came with the Ibérico pluma £15: a melting piece of acorn-fed swine swimming in a chorizo broth poured tableside. Alongside it, a trio of padrón peppers is each filled with contrasting purées – strident garlic, smoky red pepper, and herbaceous parsley.
One of the key selling points of sitting at the chef’s bar is that you can eat with your eyes, and what I saw was the pastry chef expertly slicing a chocolate tart into exacting measurements, as if he had a built-in protractor in his hand. Gosh, this tart could be the saviour of Perilla – the very thing that would make me come back. Behold: the base is a chocolate biscuit that snaps, topped with a layer of salted caramel and roasted nuts for crunch, and finished with a glossy, bitter chocolate ganache sprinkled with sea salt.
Less compelling, but delicious in its own right, was the pastel de nata – a fine version with golden, flaky pastry, creamy custard, and palate-cleansing blood orange segments. It was a sage nod to Portugal.
Verdict
When did I go? Apr 2019
The damage: £50-60 per head with a bottle of wine
The good: Put that come-hither seaweed sourdough, the thrilling beef-fat fried gurnard with its nutty curry sauce, and the fiendishly good chocolate tart in front of me, and I’m anyone’s. These are the dishes that define Perilla’s quiet brilliance, technique-driven yet soulful, thoughtful but never pretentious. From the red wine-braised cod head ragu tangled with monk’s beard greens, to the Ibérico pluma lounging in its chorizo broth with padrón peppers, there’s a sense of curiosity and confidence running through the menu. Even when a dish, like the sea spaghetti vongole, didn’t quite land for me, it still spoke of a kitchen unafraid to push boundaries. I’d come back for the bread alone, but more than that, I’d return for the feeling that this is a restaurant with heart, skill, and the courage to be different.
The bad: I’d dodge the insipid Iberico pluma, it was the weakest link and if you ask me to whinge I’d say the spaghetti vongole was too salty.
Rating: 4/5
Would I go again? Yes
Address: 1-3 Green Lanes, Newington Green, London N16 9BS
Web: https://www.perilladining.co.uk
Leave a Reply