When you see the words ‘feta sour’ on a drinks menu, two things race through your mind: firstly, ‘what?’, and secondly ‘there is no way this is not being ordered’. And you wait in quiet excitement and anticipation to see if and how it works, perhaps secretly hoping for the exhilaration of revulsion, something rightfully mad that was never going to work. But then it arrives and it’s delicious; smooth, slightly sweet and slightly salty, with an adorable cube of creamy feta balanced on an ice cube.
You can almost feel the gentle mist of Santorini seawater speckling your face
This is our introduction to Kima, a Greek fish restaurant in Marylebone. It’s sister restaurant to the more omnivorous Opso, which is across the road, and next to a branch of The Real Greek. Which is a bit like having Dalston’s Mangal I and II next door to a German Doner Kebab.
The only meat dish at Kima is a dry aged T-bone steak, which surely only an idiot would order in a place like this. Kima operates a ‘fin-to-gill’ philosophy of zero wastage, and we are to eat a whole gilt head bream, prepared in a multitude of ways.
The spirit of experimentation continued on from the feta sour with toasted bread topped with bottarga (cured roe) and… lemon curd. And white chocolate? There was a deep desire to love it, but it was simply too bizarre, with the sweetness of the curd and the sharpness of the lemon masking the bottarga, which, when it finally came through, produced a deeply strange flavour.
But to Kima’s great credit, this is the only dud across the entire menu. The next dish is kakavia, an ancient fish soup, adorned with cubes of bream gently poaching in the broth. It’s beautifully moreish, with collagen coating your mouth in warm citrus and allium, the bream delicate and sweet.
If you’re not a big olive oil fan then whatever you do, do not come to this restaurant. Speciality olive oil comes pouring out of an insanely ostentatious, swan-shaped decanter onto several dishes. Bream fillet is served sashimi-style in a puddle of the stuff, the quality of which makes you want to run home and pour your Fillipo Berrio down the sink.
After a delightful mini-souvlaki of dry aged tuna on a charred flatbread with a sweet homemade ketchup and tangy graviera, a plate of bream head and collars arrived, crispy on top and soft underneath, next to a simple Greek salad and some warm bread. You can almost feel the gentle mist of Santorini seawater speckling your face.
Speaking of Santorini, there are some excellent wines from the island on offer at a not-terrible mark up, including an exceptional 2020 Cuvee Evdemon from Argyros Estate. It’s all served by Alexandros, a joyful maitre ‘d who grins warmly and greets every guest like they had donated his mother a kidney.
The main was charred bream fillets with giouvetsi, a kind of baked orzo stew covered in roasted tomatoes. Aside from the giouvetsi it wasn’t meaningfully different to the heads/cuffs but it was hard to complain: more incredible fresh fish with crispy skin. Woe is us.
The earlier experiment of bottarga and lemon curd was righted with a pelagic pudding: caramelized seaweed (read: nori sheets) combined with coffee cream to create a mille feuille. The sweet seaweed gets stuck in the teeth and gives waves of flavour long after the dish has been dispatched.
Kima is the place you stumble upon on holiday and, even though you shouldn’t, because there’s a whole world out there to discover, you return to again and again for the rest of your trip.
The vibe An upscale taverna for fishy date nights.
The food Greek seafood cooked with imagination and care
The drink You have to try the feta sour, just to say you did. It’s a delicate mix of tsipouro, ouzo, and mastiha liqueur.
Time Out tip A mastic digestif is like Fernet Branca but actually nice. An intriguing flavour that works perfectly in Kima’s ice cream too.