Saltine

Coffee kingpins Mat Appleton and Jess Blackstone stole north London’s caffeine-battered heart with their cafe chain Fink’s. Now they’ve come for their stomachs.

Saltine is a very pale, very hyped, very caszh restaurant in Highbury. The folks who have created it (including former St John Marylebone chef Phil Wood) are clearly students of the game. They’ve studied the canon, compared notes, thought things through, presumably been to New York a lot, and created one of London’s restaurant-iest restaurants. 

And it’s decent. The food is good. The drinks are nice. 

However, like the accomplished-yet-icy, late-career work of prog bands like Rush and Yes, Saltine’s proficiency is more easily admired than enjoyed. Yes, the artful, alabaster-y dining room, exposed brickwork, imperturbable atmosphere and seasonal, changeable menu are all well-observed and accurately executed. But Saltine’s note-perfect rendition of ‘restaurant’ lacks a bit of guts. 

Deviled leeks, meaty cudgels topped with herbs and chillies, arrived swimming in a yolk-yellow, caper-studded pool of broth

Despite that, the food (as you’d expect) generally hits the mark. Our visit was kicked off with a satisfying and elegant scallop special, followed by a gubbeen cheese tart crowned with a luscious carpet of caramelised onions. And stuffed pork, served with an escarole and black olive splodge, was cooked to succulent perfection; fat rendered down to a crispy crust. Deviled leeks, meaty cudgels topped with herbs and chillies, accompanied by a generous slab of roast pollock arrived swimming in a yolk-yellow, caper-studded pool of broth. All good stuff. But presumably no longer on offer thanks to the kitchen’s hyper-changeable menu.

On the night I visited Saltine the food didn’t deviate from ‘good’ (apart from one hostile portion of dry chips with anaemic gravy). And good is fine! But the lack of any kind of crescendo, no confluence of all the elements, left me feeling chilly. Saltine bills itself as a ‘modern neighbourhood restaurant’. Personally, I’d want my neighbour to be a bit more fun.

The vibe Neighbourhood restaurant with seasonal small plates and a cool, calm air.

The food Aesthetically pleasing, well-executed modern cuisine. 

The drink Five fun cocktails, including a minty and bold shiso martini, made with the titular Japanese herb. Wine starts at around £40 a bottle. 

Time Out tip The sticky toffee apple cake is a great standard bearer for the lesser-spotted ‘hot dessert’. A rarity on London menus these days