That’s not ‘Sino’ as in ‘Chinese’, but ‘Sino’ as in ‘see-no’ as in ‘сіно’, the Ukrainian word for hay. It’s the first of many beguiling details about this Notting Hill restaurant from founder Polina Sychova and chef Eugene Korolev, which deftly subverts cliches about nostalgic diasporic Eastern European cuisine.
That is to say, it is nostalgic, but the nostalgia lies in the evocation of the smells and flavours of the old country, rather than simply serving up retro cuisine for ex-pats and exiles. And the focus of that is hay: Ukraine is a massive agrarian country and the smell and taste of dried grass touches much of the menu here.
A creative young chef coming into his powers, and using them to offer a – literal – taste of home
If that sounds slightly alarming – you are not a horse after all – then don’t overthink it. While hay is genuinely present in both food and drink as a mutedly sweet and, yes, slightly grassy distillate, it’s hardly overpowering. The flavour, the name, the hay hanging from the ceiling of the otherwise largely no frills dining room - it’s really a metaphor for home, an elegant substitute for folk kitsch and lurid flags.
The food is great. I guess you could call it modern Ukrainian, either deconstructed takes on classic Ukraine dishes or European staples given a cheeky Ukraine twist. Korolev has as lively a CV as you might fear: he’s worked all over Europe, and had just opened his own restaurant in his hometown of Dnipro when the Russians invaded. He served in the army for a bit but when entrepreneur Sychova set her sights on recruiting him, he was given dispensation to pack up his bags.
Occasionally, his ambitions are slightly bewildering: I don’t think I’ve ever had a longer explanation what the bread for the table was, largely because of the wildflower butter honey. It was nice - a rich, sweet alternative to butter as we know it - but there was something a bit grandstandy about it; I definitely couldn’t taste the pollen that was sprinkled over it. Likewise, the black pudding croquette with adjika and apple jam was beautifully styled but simply tasted like a (very nice) ball of black pudding.
But if some of Korolev’s innovations feel extraneous, he avoids unruly clashes of flavour. And when it works, it really works. Apologies to the French but the beef tartare with mushroom mousse and crispy Jerusalem artichoke made me look back on the classic version of the dish as hopelessly primitive. Yes, there’s the pleasant meaty sting. But the creamy earthy richness of the mushrooms and crunch of the artichoke elevate it to something positively symphonic. Also great: meaty, mutedly sweet-sour cherry glazed BBQ catfish; an indecently vibrant, zingy potato and sorrel waffle; a rich but restrained honey cake served in its own elegant pool of cream. And I had a chicken Kyiv! Although dinkier and markedly less greasy than your supermarket variant, there’s something quite sweet about the fact that Korolev has played it quite straight – perhaps the one concession to actual nostalgia – although its meaty garlicky crunch is beautifully offset by a pillow of (you guessed it) hay-infused mash.
The service is efficient and friendly but not overly fussy – we are talking about Eastern Europeans here – and aesthetically it’s rustic minimalism with a few fun gestures: the hay; a feature wall of slightly pagan looking earthenware; some fun bits of crockery.
Of course there is a danger that Ukraine – a country the average Brit probably didn’t know much about prior to the Russian invasion – could be defined in some people’s minds as a sort of cause célèbre, and that there could be the idea that there is some sort of charitable dimension to visiting a Ukrainian restaurant. And if that’s why you want to visit Sino then why not. But really this is all about a creative young chef coming into his powers, and using them to offer a – literal – taste of home.
The vibe Chic modern bistro with clever allusions to Ukraine (most via the medium of hay).
The food Witty modern Ukrainian, with smart spins on European classics.
The drink A fun Western-classics-with-a-Ukrainian-twist cocktail list, plus Ukrainian and standard European wines.
Time Out tip If you’re a bit vague about the ins and outs of Ukrainian cuisine, the £80, five course tasting menu is pretty good place to start.