No modish East End eatery would be complete without a decent helping of iron and concrete. White Rabbit doesn’t disappoint on this front. The dining room has a knocked together warehouse aesthetic with eclectic serveware, stackable chairs and second-hand tables.
Our enthusiastic waiter talked us through the list of bar snacks, small and larger plates. Though largely European, there’s the odd Latin American or Asian influence on the menu and a multitude of rabbit dishes such as croquettes, rillettes and curried loin. The meat in our rabbit leg main was cooked with precision – crisp skin, meat falling away from the bone and plenty of flavour, but the white beans it came with were underdone.
Other dishes followed suit with just one element out of sync. Perfectly light, crisp pork scratchings were just a little too salty. An attractive roasted aubergine half with smoked yoghurt, glistening pomegranate seeds and bright green pea shoots was smoky, sour and subtly sweet if you ignored the unnecessary chunk of honeycomb on the side of the plate.
By dessert, the service buckled a little under the strain of a heaving dining room, which resulted in us being asked to leave before we’d received the hot and cold strawberries with spiced brioche and crème Chantilly we’d ordered over half an hour before. Hurriedly fetched, it was more cold than hot by the time it arrived.
With reasonable prices, an imaginative menu and some decent cocktails, White Rabbit has plenty going for it, but it needs to try a bit harder.