The last time I shuffled around the history-riddled streets around Smithfield meat market, I was flexing my goth muscle at the rarely-open Barts Pathology Museum. An extraordinary collection of 4,000 human specimens, each more intriguing and peculiar than the last, it’s a similar experience to that of visiting the ambitious Restaurant St Barts. The offerings at London’s latest Michelin starred spot might be more appetising than a glass jar containing the pickled liver of a Victorian prisoner, but they’re no less fascinating. And at a heroic 15 courses served over three and a half hours, almost as plentiful.
Opened in October 2022 by the power trio of chef Johnnie Crowe, co-founder and front of house guru (and occasional plate maker) Luke Wasserman and money man Toby Neill – who proved their mettle with the shifting single-ingredient focussed Nest in Hackney – Restaurant St Barts makes the most of its ancient-adjacent location. The airy dining room’s massive windows look out onto the cloisters of London’s oldest surviving church, the medieval St Bartholomew-the-Great, as well the city’s oldest residential building, and as you gaze at both, you can simultaneously contemplate your utter meaninglessness in the ongoing, epic churn of time. If you’d rather not focus on the futility of human experience, then simply enjoy a menu closed with a wax seal, which is handed over with a stately, secretive air that can only be described as masonic. Such history buffery is matched by a proudly geeky obsession with ultra seasonal British ingredients and a chin-stroking dedication to perfect provenance, which includes tables carved out of fallen London plane trees. Commitment here is a 360 deal.
Restaurant St Barts is so thoughtful and enchanting that even the animals on the plate would approve of how they’ve been dished up.
We start the Scandi-style, Noma-esque dining experience on sheepskin-draped chairs by the bar, which is separated from the open kitchen with jars packed full of preserves that don’t look a million miles away from what’s on the shelves at the pathology museum. Starters begin with a single slice of pig neck (so far, so pathology museum) marbled with fat so melty and marvellous, that if the meal were to finish here it would be extremely expensive, but somehow still worth it. Four snack-sized courses follow, including a tiny Tunworth cheese tartlet drizzled in pickled walnut ketchup that packed a flavour ten times its size, to a thrillingly fishy ‘East End’ seafood cocktail, served in an oyster shell and singing with eel, topped with caviar and swimming in bone foam. Impeccable.
We’re moved into the main dining room – more wood, more linen, more soothingly ethical vibes – for the next ten (yes there are still ten more!) courses. To list each in detail would seem braggy, suffice to say that nothing whatsoever faltered, even a porridge of cheese and onions, which was not nearly as gruel-y as you might assume. A slither of fresh-off-the-boat turbot was perhaps the prettiest piece of fish I have ever seen, its flesh shimmering like mother of pearl, while noodles made of cuttlefish were pure imagination, and five elegant variations on tender lamb each more impressive than the last. Restaurant St Barts is so thoughtful and enchanting that even the animals on the plate would approve of how they’ve been dished up.
The vibe A newly-minted Michelin star spot near Smithfields with a 15 course tasting menu of champions for £140 a head. Lunch is a decent value £60.
The food Prime British seafood and meat, and cooked with the ingenuity, focus and care of the Scandinavian greats.
The wine A pairing of £100 for seven glasses (each!) featured some absolute gems, including a sweet, fluffy white from Domaine des Pierres Ecrites, which we immediately ordered a bottle of when we got home.
Time Out tip Don’t hurry. You’ll be here for at least three hours, so don’t go making plans to meet your mates in the pub after.
