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his Charlotte Street staple, acclaimed since it opened two years ago, is prosaically but pleasingly so-called because it’s the ninth restaurant that US-born, UK-raised chef-owner Jun Tanaka has worked in (others include Le Gavroche, Marco Pierre White and The Square).
I had swerved a visit mostly because of its relatively pricey evening menu – where small plates hover between £10-30 – but I didn’t know about the rather handy set lunch until recently. Served daily, it’s £21 for two plates, or £27 for three – and they’re all made for sharing.
The heart of Fitzrovia is always a hotspot for people-watching, and so on a stuffy August lunchtime we choose a table on the threshold of the restaurant’s small terrace, conveniently located just inside its textbook distressed interior (leather banquettes, bare-brick and dark wood). The space is bigger than it first appears, with a long, crepuscular dining room, close-packed tables and cosy nooks. We sit and gaze at the parade of office-workers sweeping by, phones in hand.
With only six savoury choices listed on the set lunch menu the pal and I order the lot, which works out as £27 each to try half a dozen between us. Of the six, let’s dispatch the golden-crusted gnocchi first: with its vivid green pea and broad bean puree, it’s deliciously familiar, but something I’ve tried one too many times elsewhere.
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Panzanella, that Tuscan salad staple, is made with a jumble of really good heritage tomatoes, crisped bread and capers, in a shallow bowl of clear, soupy juices with a mild vinegary hit: a classic done strikingly. Tricky to share though, despite our best intentions. Lucky we’re old friends – and can deal with the odd comedic splash or two.
As for the other four plates? They simply blow us away: a browned and bubbling rabbit lasagne is almost dessert-like in its gooeyness, given a tangy kick by a sticky, deep-red tomatoey fondue; and chunks of lamb, chargrilled on the outside, are juicily pink within, on an umami-heavy pile of golden couscous, rich Sicilian Datterini tomatoes and courgettes. A southern Mediterranean flavour bomb, the lingering memory is of rosemary, pine nuts and olives.
And yet these aren’t in fact our highlights. Both fishy, they come near the start. Flamed mackerel is cutely sliced into tiny strips, its lightly charred meatiness adorned with dill, cucumber and the savoury thwack of capers. And delicate, briny sea bass carpaccio is rendered invisible under a generous smear of grass-green salsa verde, crowned with clusters of pickled kohlrabi for bitterness and texture.
Service deserves a mention: it’s astutely choreographed, with dishes coming out one at a time, with the perfect wait between each to enjoy a sip or two of wine. This is no mean feat in London: so often sharing plates results in a food pile-up, and yet there’s no evidence of stressed chefs banging out dishes randomly here.
It’s a late lunch booking and we stay until we’re the last two customers left, before heading off for a sunny post-prandial stroll down Charlotte Street. At this price point the level of cooking is exquisite: no wonder last month The Ninth made a list of the top 50 most affordable Michelin restaurants in the world, and the only one in London to receive such an honour (the other in the UK was The Coach in Marlow).
Our advice? Try it before the inevitable price-hike. Now, how about a Tenth?
Main image: PR
