Salad. Boring? Only if you get it wrong. There is something supremely and uniquely satisfying in an accomplished salad because in one there is nowhere to hide. Leaves aren’t just leaves — they must be well dressed, they should have been properly grown.
To dismiss salad as a throwaway or secondary dish is to misunderstand its very nature. A herbaceous medley from a good producer — Trill Farm in Devon, perhaps, or Sam Buckley of Where the Light Gets In, who grows interesting varieties of lettuces and more on the roof of a car park in Stockport — are incomparable to vacuous arrangements emptied out of supermarket bags.
An excellent salad might be simple or it might be subtly and unassumingly complex. Either way, salad has reluctance to its credit because it doesn’t try too hard. It is merely there on the menu, relaxing and unbothered by whether it is ordered. Often it isn’t. That is only ever the fault of the diner.
With summer in full swing, here is a list of some of London’s best. It is not, by any means, a comprehensive collection, but it is a celebratory one. Each of these salads is worth its weight in gold and best enjoyed on a hot day.
Lahpet
Pickled tea leaves might not be a flavour synonymous or famous in London. That ought to change. At Lahpet, a Burmese restaurant now with three sites in London — one in Shoreditch, a second in the West End, a new place in Bermondsey — lahpet thohk is a must order dish, bringing freshness and smacks of umami with finely shredded cabbage, tomato and chilli. There is crunch thanks to double-fried beans, sesame seeds and peanuts, and the dried shrimp bolsters the sourness of the pickled tea, all of which is lightly tempered by garlic oil. Some might order thohk alongside two other salads — prawn and squid; and ginger, which is also pickled — and thereby enjoy a triptych without the need for anything more.
Lahpet Shoreditch, 58 Bethnal Green Road, E1 6JW lahpet.co.uk/shoreditch
Ottolenghi
Anybody proffering the notion that Yotam Ottolenghi is the King of Salad would find little if any argument. At his cafes, heartier mains are complemented by great arrangements, each packed with flavour and happily remedial. The chef blends the likes of roasted beetroot with tangy rhubarb before softening with goat’s cheese; black garlic potatoes might be straddled by asparagus, pickled shallots and dukkah; hummus and shawarma chickpeas are luxurious alongside chopped leaves. Ottolenghi’s cafes are where basic ingredients like lentils are beautiful. They might be treated with miso or tahini, pesto or za’atar. And yoghurt is used with all the skill of a farmer who moonlights in sorcery. At Rovi, in Fitzrovia, be sure to order the salad of runner beans and charred peaches. It comes with silky goat’s cheese and there is crunch from smoked almonds. It is pleasing in that it so keenly balances indulgence with nourishment.
Ottolenghi Islington, 287 Upper Street, London N1 2TZ, ottolenghi.co.uk/restaurants/islington
The Colony Grill
The Colony Grill is an old school restaurant in a fancy part of town. Reasonable, then, that the Cobb salad is delivered as it might be in a James Bond film. After all, the Cobb is the vodka martini of salad. In the dining room, a well-trained server will gracefully prepare the dish tableside, mixing iceberg lettuce, tomatoes and cucumber with crunchy bacon and cubes of mild cheddar. Choose it large and it is more than enough to be a rambunctious main, not least with the addition of a softly boiled egg. Suddenly what was a little basic becomes ultimately sophisticated. Truly an art form.
8 Balderton Street, Brown Hart Gardens,W1K 6TF colonygrillroom.com
Hawksmoor
We arrive at our first side salad — this is not an encouragement to visit Hawksmoor, Britain’s flagship steakhouse, and order only leaves. Anyway, the Caesar here is one of London’s more interesting and it is perfect next to beef. Three crisp and bouncy leaves of romaine lettuce arrive under a homemade dressing, heavy with anchovy, alongside feisty little croutons and Doddington cheese, which is Britain’s noble version of Parmesan. There are many well put together Caesar salads in London. There are far more that are disastrously unbalanced. At Hawksmoor, it is as it should be, almost invasive in flavour — notes of Ancient Rome — but in the end, rather welcome.
157A Commercial Street, E1 6BJ, thehawksmoor.com
Speedboat Bar
The Yaowarat Road in Bangkok is as frenetic as any in the world, a hot, endlessly busy place. At Guan Hock Kee, chefs have been smoking their own sausages since 1957, in charcoal ovens, and Speedboat Bar in Soho drew its inspiration from that very method. JKS’ latest restaurant collaborated with the eminent butcher HG Walter to create its “Chinese sausage”. It is fragrant with five spice and plump. At the Soho joint, find the sausage roasted in chilli jam before being sliced and tossed with Chinese celery and pickled vegetables. It is a salad that is sweet and salty, sour too; a “remember your gap year?” dish (not sorry) and all the better for it.
30 Rupert Street, W1D 6DL, speedboatbar.co.uk
Quo Vadis
There have been times wherein Quo Vadis’ Jeremy Lee thrusts a seafood salad on to the menu. To visit, spot it on the menu, and fail to order would be a blunder. These days there are two other options. One is a handy combination of beetroot, orange, and winter tomatoes, all mixed with mint leaves. The key here is juiciness. It is another side salad, but a bold one, and it works well with another at the restaurant, a pared-back mustard leaf bowl, which some might feel necessary next to pies and eel sandwiches. Another standout salad at Quo Vadis marries bitter leaves with hops, ricotta and Parmesan. Excellent.
26-29 Dean Street, W1D 3LL, quovadissoho.co.uk
Miznon
Miznon is a mad restaurant in the best possible way. Apparently there is a word for it in Hebrew: balagun. It translates, loosely, as a sort of “organised chaos.” Miznon founder Eyal Shani describes his tomatoes as “ovaries”. They are not ovaries, clearly, but they are life-giving, and that might be what he means. In the restaurant, tomatoes must be sourced from someone who really cares about the plants because they are wonderfully rich and fruity. Quartered generously and dressed in olive oil, nothing else is required, and they act as a strong accompaniment to one of the ridiculous pita breads, one filled with spaghetti bolognese, say, or a burger with a brittle-like cheddar cheese crown.
8 Broadwick Street, W1F 8HW, miznon.co.uk
INO Gastrobar
There was an episode of James Acaster and Ed Gamble’s Off Menu podcast on which Greek salad was discussed. There was talk of how the feta should not be cubed and tumbled, but served as a whole square, sliced fatly, and placed on top of the tomatoes, cucumber, olives and red onion. This might also be one of the few salads that benefits from dried herbs — oregano in this case. Ino is a fabulous place to find Greek salad in London: a lump of salty feta comes drenched in olive oil, acting as a soft mattress above the lighter elements. Greek salad, like a Caesar, is canonical, and another that is well-known but so often ruined. At Ino, it is afforded respect.
4 Newburgh Street, Carnaby, W1F 7RF inorestaurant.com
Singburi
Is there a tangier salad than a som tam? Probably not. Leytonstone’s family-run restaurant Singburi serves a spectacular one, the papaya shredded carefully before going ten rounds with garlic, chilli, fish sauce and lime. It is beautifully balanced, intensely hot, a deliberate and soothing dish of sour and sweet. Singburi’s is utterly majestic, and it has a very real claim for being the best in town. Have it with the clams, and the moo krob (moreish pork belly with chilli and Thai basil).
593 High Roiad Leytonstone, E11 4PA, instagram.com/singburi_e11
Honey & Co.
Middle Eastern and Levantine cooking does salad extraordinarily well. Every salad at Honey & Co. is worth eating. The restaurant is a sounding board for meze, to which all other meze in London might tip its hat. There are four sites in the group. At each, salad is found. One to note is the “Big Iztik”, a mixture of charred aubergine, red and yellow peppers, zehug and with lavoush crackers. Falafel, meanwhile, come with lemon-soaked cabbage and parsley. It is a restaurant where vegetables such as peas and broad beans are granted licence to be vigorous, the stars of the show, just as they ought to be when the weather warms.
