Tatar Bunar is a very nice place for a meal.
Spindly trees grow out of huge pots and the branches drape over tables. Tall windows are hung with elegant white curtains. A buzzing open kitchen sits at the centre and there’s a little shaded courtyard out the back. But more than that, it’s got a ‘this new restaurant is a big deal’ feel to it, like joining the three-hour queue for Oma for the first time. Waiters are rushed off of their feet (but handling it), and the place is packed. For many excited guests, this is their first time trying Ukrainian food, and amid a Ukrainian food boom in London (Sino, another Ukrainian restaurant, has just opened in Notting Hill) – things feel exciting. Very exciting.
Tartare comes with elderberry capers, pickled cucumbers, and my new favourite discovery, sprats mayo
The clientele is, expectedly, a bit posh – we’re in Shoreditch after all, and at a restaurant everybody is talking about – but prices here are genuinely reasonable, the food rich and decadent, and the portions generous. We sit up at the bar facing the kitchen, where watch chefs sear meat on the grill and drizzle oil over starters. They are performing a rather serious operation here; the arrival of food is rapid, and you get the feeling waiters have you on a two-hour timer, ready to slap down the bill and greet the next customer. But like I said, it’s exciting. My first starter is pickled cherry tomatoes on a bed of lemon yoghurt, and pretty much a mandatory order, noted as Tatar Bunar’s ‘best dish’ on its own menu. It’s a lovely, glossy thing, punchy, vinegary and covered in fresh herbs. Before I can catch my breath, the tartare is here too.
It was at this point that I began to wish I could slow the whole process down, and spend an hour with each of these lovely little meals, giving them my undying attention. The tartare is served in a whopping great wooden bowl with soft onion bread. It’s made from both lamb and beef, and not totally raw as it’s seared ever so slightly on the grill. It comes with a tangy hit of tiny elderberry capers, pickled cucumbers, and my new favourite discovery, sprats mayo, which is exactly what it sounds like. And get this – it’s topped with bryndza, a mellow sheep’s cheese, meaning each bite hits the back of your throat with salty, savoury flavour.
Our next starter is mellow and smooth. It’s sprats and potatoes, and each element is served in its own little dish – the silky sprats, laid flat, smooth and boneless like a piece of art – the boiled potatoes, naked and buttered and scattered with dill – and the bright pink pickled onions. As a trio they’re things of simplicity and beauty, soft and delicate. We’re recommended the lamb chops, deeply smoky and tender, and the cheburek, a deep-fried pastry filled with tender minced lamb, similar to a Turkish börek, which is huge, and the perfect crispy, puffy vessel for sour cream and ajika, a spicy, red peppery chill sauce.
For dessert, we tried the texturally confusing, but wonderful crepes with cottage cheese and jam, and the soft cheese-filled varenyk, a Ukrainian dumpling, with a crème brûlée top. Speaking of dumplings, there were three different kinds of savoury ones we couldn’t squeeze in. Despite the amount of dishes we tried, it’s almost unimaginable there’s still half a menu here I’m yet to try. I honestly can’t wait to come back.
The vibe A buzzy Shoreditch restaurant that looks set to become one of London’s hardest-to-secure reservations.
The food A Ukrainian menu where tomatoes, potatoes, dumplings and grill-fired meats are the stars of the show.
The drink Ukrainian wines, vodkas and cocktails, and a beer or two thrown in with the soft drinks.
Time Out tip: The grill is the only bit where things get pricey (the lamb chops are £27 for three), but the ‘hot starters’ are more like mains. So get a grill centrepiece and order as widely as possible from across this generous menu to make the most of it.