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Bacon peanut brittle; Pancetta & anchovy wedge; Fish taco; Ox-heart taco; Ginger & soy hot wings, pickles; Chicken roll; Patty melt; Smoked pork & duck heart baked beans; fries. The menu at Rita's Bar & Dining is not so much as if someone had asked me what 15 or so of my favourite things in the world were to eat and then written them down, no, it's more than that. It's as if someone somehow knew what my deepest subconscious foodie desires were and constructed a list of ingredients combined in such a way as to make me wobble with joy. I want this menu read out at my funeral; I want to spray-paint it onto the side of my house; I want to take it home to meet my parents.
Yes, I liked the menu. And I only have my pathetic Saturday evening post-pub appetite to blame for the fact we didn't order the whole lot, so sadly this post will just have to serve as a short teaser of the delights awaiting visitors to Rita's. But based on the handful of dishes we tried, this unlikely spot in the furthest reaches of Dalston will have them queuing down Stoke Newington Road much in the manner of other North-American inspired smash hits across the capital. It really is that good.
I will begin with the only thing that could have been improved - Ginger & soy hot wings had a lovely aromatic flavour but were a little too flabby; perhaps the oil they were fried in wasn't hot enough, or perhaps they weren't deep-fried at all. But accompanying pickles were excellent in that sweet, soft style of US BBQ.
Rita's serve the finest tacos I've eaten this side of the pond, and if that isn't perhaps the greatest compliment I can pay, you'll just have to take my word for it that they tasted every bit as good as you could hope. The fish, crispy and fresh and livened by colourful crunchy pickles and herbs, came on a stunningly authentic-tasting masa-flour (I presume) tortilla, and a ox-heart version paired the same earthy base with some wonderful gamey notes, the meat itself just chewy enough to be interesting. The offal one in particular, in fact, strongly reminded me of something Tacos El Gordo in Chula Vista could have served. How has it taken this long to get tacos right in London?
The Rita's Patty Melt has the potential to be their signature offering, partly - admittedly - for the novelty factor (you must know how these things work by now) but mainly because it tastes so damn good. Dripping with, well, dripping I suppose, and using beef mince with a commendable depth of flavour for something costing only £5 (well aged I'm guessing), this is essentially not much more than a toasted beef and cheese sandwich but absolutely none the worse for that. It's enough to make you want to dig out the Breville and have a go yourself.
The chicken roll (not pictured I'm afraid, we were enjoying ourselves too much by this point) was like a gourmet KFC wrap, served in a brown paper bag for that true High-Streetfood filthy chicken feel, but constructed with care and boasting lovely moist and crunchy chicken. If we are to believe the hype that "good" fried chicken is going to be London's latest street food fad, then this is a good a place as any to start.
OK, I know I'm gushing. This kind of thing just happens to be my personal restaurant heaven, and it maybe won't push everyone's buttons. Dalston is a long way from anywhere, the noise and crowd levels later in the evening do have a habit (so I'm told) of slipping just the wrong side of comfortable, and there was more than the usual element of the braying red-trousered type in attendance the evening we went, in accordance with the oh-so-trendy industrial décor and popup sensibilities.
But if you can't enjoy yourself surrounded by fresh fish tacos and fried chicken and burger sandwiches then you're likely to be missing some vital fun-loving part of your brain, and probably shouldn't be eating out at all. I loved Rita's not just because it's "my kind of thing" but because all the food was just way, way, better, and cheaper, than it needed to be, and everything about the way it was delivered (including the wickedly strong frozen Margaritas - careful with those is my tip) made me smile. And there is no greater compliment than that.
9/10
On the one hand, this is going to be yet another blog post about a fantastic, ludicrously cheap Ocakbasi grill, and to that end, I apologise if it feels like you've heard it all before. Londoners are spoiled for decent Turkish restaurants in a way that almost no other cuisine can manage - some are better than others, of course, and I imagine it is at least theoretically possible to have a bad Turkish if you try hard enough, but there are just so many good ones scattered around certain areas of Dalston and Shoreditch that you'd have to be very unlucky to come away disappointed. In one tiny stretch of the Stoke Newington Road there is the brilliant and ever popular Mangal 2, the unpronounceable but apparently very highly regarded Istanbul Iskembecisi, and the cryptically titled 19 Numara Bos Cirrik I, where I spent a thoroughly enjoyable Monday evening.
You know there is some real talent in a kitchen when even something as straightforward as house hummus draws gasps of approval. It was, in fact, the finest example of this humble dish I've had in a very long time - light and smooth, seasoned perfectly and astonishingly fresh. A generous round of lahmacun (sort of a Turkish pizza for want of a better description) was straight out of the oven and lovely and crisp, and cost a pathetic £2; amazing value. And even a plate of yoghurt and cucumber did its job commendably well, cooling the soft house bread and tasting bright and summery.
The only problem I had with the house salad "Esme" was that I wasn't sure how to eat it. Chopped and crushed and ground down so much (I watched them do it) it had turned into a kind of Turkish gazpacho, and the flat plate it came on was hugely impractical. But, needless to say, it was seasoned well, tasted great, and was a lovely colour from the tomatoes and fresh parsley. And while perhaps not quite up there with the version at FM Mangal in Camberwell (and I doubt anything ever could be), the pomegranate and onion pickle was still hugely addictive. The Esme was £4 and the onion pickle was free. Crazy.
Deep fried I think rather than grilled, the halloumi wasn't 19NBC's greatest creation, but tempered with the onion pickle it had crunch and enough salty cheesy goodness to make it worth the effort. And around this time yet another free salad arrived, just a straightforward mix of tomatoes, lettuce, onion and cabbage dressed in olive oil and parsley but still, they went to the effort of making it for us and didn't even charge. The generosity of spirit is heartwarming.
Lamb behti kebabs came served on house bread soaked up the meat juices and soft brown rice. The kebabs themselves were top-drawer, moist and rich and seasoned perfectly, and there was a huge amount of meat here for £9.50. Part of the reason our bill was so low could have been that this was the only significant meat dish we ordered, but as it was midsummer (and 19NBC has no air conditioning, so be warned) we didn't really feel like anything too heavy.
With two beers, a Ribena (don't ask) and as much iced tap water as you could want, the bill came to just £40 for 4 people. All four of us left stuffed, happy and with kebab juice staining our clothing (well OK that might have just been me) and with nothing, other than perhaps the raging heat, to complain about. It is hard not to get complacent when you're tucking into another great Turkish grill and paying a pittance for it, but the astonishing quality and value of so many of these places should not distract for a second from the effort and skill that must go into running them. 19 Numara Bos Cirrik I is Yet Another Great Ocakbasi, and I will never get bored of eating there.
8/10
One of the great ethnic food styles of London, I've never had an ocakbasi (translating as far as I can tell as simply 'charcoal grill') that's been anything less than decent, and they have the potential to be very good indeed. Yet bizarrely, they also seem to be one of the most overlooked cuisines in the capital, certainly next to Chinese or Vietnamese or Indian/Pakistani. At the risk of sounding patronising, I can't help feeling they often only have themselves to blame - I've known many a very impressive ocakbasi grill (characterised by their huge extractor hoods) hiding towards the back of the restaurant, while pride of place in the shop window goes to two columns of sweaty doner meat and a tray of deep-fried chicken. It's hardly the best way to attract passing trade, but then again, perhaps it's all deliberate, meaning only those with an insatiable desire for food adventure, or sufficiently clued-up locals, are deemed suitable to sample the proper food. And it was thanks partly to a very clued-up local and my own mindlessly optimistic attitude towards London restaurants that I found myself in Mangal 2 in Dalston last night, sampling some very proper food indeed.
The first real test of any ocakbasi is the house bread. I've mentioned before I find it surprising that considering almost every single Turkish restaurant in London has a big wood fired oven and makes its own bread, how little of it is any good. Before Mangal 2, my favourite Turkish bread came out of the ovens at Meze Mangal in New Cross; now, Mangal 2 has taken that crown. This stuff was marvellous - piping hot, delicately crusted outside and gently billowy within, it was gently seasoned and had an addictive butteryness that's so often missing from Turkish bread in London. Mangal 2 give you a huge basket of the stuff without even charging for it, which is straight out of the "how to win favour with Cheese and Biscuits" instruction manual and should be applauded.
I'll continue with the menu items that didn't impress too much. Most disappointingly of all, the house hummus was rather lumpy, which would have been forgivable in itself if it hadn't also tasted strangely old and mouldy - not very pleasant. Also the Lahmacun (a kind of Turkish pizza) needed something to lift it out of the ordinary - it was bland and slightly underseasoned and although perfectly edible wasn't anything I'd rush to order again.
But now the good news. Sucuk, Turkish beef sausages, looked like something out of a tin from the 1950s but tasted lovely - spicy and dense and with a good texture of real beef that belied their processed appearance; a plate of six chicken wings were crispy from the grill, moist inside and with a subtle piquant marinade; and a few slices of halloumi were nicely browned and served with a couple of good crispy pickles to cut through the grease. All the hot dishes were served, too, on a mixture of fresh leaves and grilled vegetables, which I thought was an excellent idea - lettuce is better fresh, onion is nice grilled, so why not serve them together?
All these dishes, you may have noticed, were starter portions. If there's only two of you, it's a great way to sample as much of the menu as possible without getting hugely stuffed, and is a technique I often employ to good effect in Vietnamese restaurants (where in fact I've found the starters are often more interesting the mains anyway). Somehow though, we still rolled out of Mangal 2 last night completely full, and having spent close to a pittance - about £12 each, even including service which, by the way, was smart and friendly. I'm not going to pretend that Mangal 2 is the greatest Turkish restaurant in London, or even that it's worth a special journey, but it is perhaps time that some of the many solid, dependable local ocakbasi places got the attention they deserve. So next time you're walking past your nearest kebab shop, try to look past the doner meat and the greasy chicken pieces and see if there's a huge, gleaming copper extractor hood lurking further inside. If there is, you may have just discovered your new favourite local restaurant. You're welcome.
7/10
