Restaurant columns don’t generally begin in the ladies’ loo for several reasons, but in real life they often do – or at least they do for me. Some time after the first plates of starters at a new opening, such as at Kibou in Battersea last week, I often find myself staring into a bathroom mirror – a freshly installed bathroom mirror, mind – and the words are already bubbling, because when you know, you already know.
Kibou’s new south London branch is the third in a chain of beautifully staged, Japanese-inspired restaurants with a loyal following in Cheltenham and Bristol. The Battersea branch has two enormous, fluttery lashed, mascara-laden eyes painted on to its Hague Blue frontage. Those eyes are made prettier still by faux Japanese rose blossom. Kibou is certainly, from the outside and at night, the loveliest, quirkiest-looking new opening London has seen in a while. Inside, vast murals of Tokyo metropolitan life brighten the walls. The best seats in the house are the booths at the back, bedecked with even more faux blossom. Romantic as heck. But it’s less so if you’re seated near the front door on one of the tiny, draughty, exposed tables.
