Full disclosure: I can’t be entirely sure that Cycene isn’t a cult. But if it is, it’s a truly lovely one, a Michelin-star sect where they will take your money (£195 for nine-ish courses), but there won’t be any funny business and your family will probably be very happy for you. You won’t want to leave, and in fact, we almost don’t. I’m here for nearly four hours, and by the time I’m handed an oaty and malty Horlicks-adjacent cup of sourdough-infused milk – as if I’m an overstimulated toddler being tucked into bed – it’s an imposition to even consider leaving for the bus stop.
A veritable Berghain of enigmatic meats and victuals
Some background. Cycene – named after the Old English word for kitchen – opened in 2022 inside the Blue Mountain School, a spurious but well-intentioned Shoreditch arts space that isn’t quite a museum, nor an archive, but, in its own words, somewhere that ‘nurtures engagements and interactions between diverse practices’. Sure, why not! Suffice to say, one of those practices is food, and my lordy, they do it extremely well.
Step inside this repurposed Georgian townhouse and each guest is immediately greeted by congenial head chef Taz Sarhane, a cook who loves to get a little bit weird. At a long pine bar he’ll proffer you a ‘picnic’ of blush-pink house-cured meats, a fluffy hillock of virgin butter, a platter of runny, mouth-coating chicken fat, a mini muffin, dense seeded bread, and a beefy beaker of collagen soup that is, in the best possible way, like licking the inside of a cow. For more delicate souls, that would be enough food for the night, but the sorcery has barely begun. We’re then led upstairs to the kitchen, for more snacks served at the pass; charcoal-seared wagyu chunks and an insanely juicy tartlet of bone marrow, foraged mushrooms confit egg yolk and caviar. Lowkey, then. We even get to peer inside a glass-walled chamber of horrors to see further spoils of the evening; a brace of plucked Norfolk pigeons, slinky strung-up eels, an eldritch jar of pickled plums, a rosy slab of fat tuna belly. It’s a veritable Berghain of enigmatic meats and victuals.
We end up in a candle-lit dining room with just six tables. It could be a Romantic-era time portal were it not for the imposing Frank Auerbach portrait clinging to the wall. Finally, the meal starts in earnest. To list every single dish would be futile, but know that Cycene has a preponderance of things that sound like a Dark Ages coven would cook in a cauldron; meadowsweet, pineappleweed, buckwheat, wormwood, and stewed black barley. Dishes here taste ancient but come illuminated with modern light. There is pottage, there is broth, and there are medicinal ferments, including a plum nectar that’s as rich and viscous as a glass of blood. There’s even a boozy Bisto in the form of a vermouth-addled vessel of sipping gravy, and a tiny goblin mug of earthy and intoxicating wild blueberry and sage juice.
Taz Sarhane, a steadfast foraging fanboy, will show us a basket brimming with chanterelles and ceps from a recent mushroom hunt, before returning with them cooked up with thyme and chicken stock and placed in a tart with endive jam and lobster. Other dishes include a humming smoked eel served with tiny but plump potato balls in a bath of parsley liquor. A frozen-raspberry accessorised oyster comes in a wooden box that could be a coffin for a particularly loved gerbil, and one of many puddings comes laced with crispy artichoke slivers. The detail is tremendous, the flavours even more so. Cycene might not be the more affordable restaurant in east London, but it is by far the most magical.
The vibe A fabulously culty and super intimate fine dining sanctum in Shoreditch.
The food A transportive tasting menu made up of foraged British foods and impeccably sourced seasonal delights..
The drink There’s a wine pairing on offer, but you can order by the glass - or there’s a handful of cocktails.
Time Out tip Saturday lunch offers a more affordable experience, with an oyster and sparkling wine reception followed by the main meal for £95.