Restaurants

By Chris Moss

Argentina is a land of myths of exile and nostalgia. All over the planet there are expat-owned steakhouses that double as temples to tango, Maradona, the humid pampas and Buenos Aires in its belle epoque days.

With the opening of Garufa, London now has its own homage. Alberto Abbate, who has already enjoyed some success with Buen Ayre in Hackney (now managed by his former business partner John Rattagan) and Santa María del Sur in Battersea, has decorated his new restaurant with sepia-tinted photographs of smart porteños, ancient buses, leafy plazas and, most relevantly, a cart transporting meat before the days of fridges and lorries. His aim, he says, is for Garufa to be an ‘Argentinian restaurant’ rather than a straight steakhouse. To that end the menu includes humitas (fried sweetcorn purée) from the north-east of the country, salmon, vitel tonné (roast veal in tuna mayonnaise, similar to the Italian vitello tonnato), milanesas (crumbed steak) and traditional Argentinian desserts, as well as the empanadas (pasties) and grilled red meat you’d expect. The wine list is longer than that of Santa María del Sur, and there’s even a breakfast menu featuring medialunas – the sweet, uniquely Argentinian croissants that go down superbly with morning coffee or mate tea (also available). On match days Arsenal fans on their way to the nearby stadium have been coming in for sausage sandwiches, too.

It’s all great but, frankly, the point of any visit here is still the meat. The meat empanadas were simple and perhaps not quite herby enough, but crucially they were succulent – in Argentina they say an empanada is only good if you have to open your legs (to avoid the drips). For the main, we chose a parrillada Garufa (mixed grill). At £45 for two, it’s not going to draw in too many Argentinian tourists with their feeble pesos, but for that sum you get no less than four tender, perfectly grilled steaks, a gorgeously peppery and totally gristle-free black pudding, a gently spiced chorizo sausage and a splatter of provolone – it should be a slab but the table-sized grill is hot and melts the cheese as you eat. The steaks are not huge but, with a salad, it’s plenty, and while I think the grill chef interpreted our ‘medium rare’ as ‘medium’, a few explanatory words to the friendly waiters will ensure your steaks are cooked to perfection.

With its old tangos playing quietly in the background and live folk gigs scheduled between now and Christmas – and likeable, relaxed waiting staff – Garufa has all the personality that the branches of Gaucho lack. It will take a while for the bare brick walls to acquire their own layer of oil and nostalgia, but if the steakhouse – sorry, restaurant – gets the custom it deserves, one day there’ll be a Garufa in Buenos Aires with photos of Arsenal on the wall.

Time Out Issue 1997: November 27-December 4