Based firmly in West London, I rarely trek into the City unless there’s a good reason. The area around London’s Liverpool Street tube station is a serious hub for finance, so I’m expecting to find a half-filled restaurant on a Saturday night.
It’s latest opening by Chef Vivek Singh, and sister restaurant to Cinnamon Club in St. James. Unlike the formal atmosphere of Cinnamon Club, Cinnamon Kitchen is relaxed, fun, and vibrant.
We locate the restaurant in a new building complex, and instead of a sleepy Saturday night service, the place is packed with a crowd of all ages, some dressed up, some dressed down. The neighboring Anise Lounge is rented out for a private party, but looks like a good place to begin with a drink.
We select a perfectly balanced Chateauneuf du Pape from a very seductive wine list which includes Barolo’s, Brunello’s, and some very special cellar wines. The menu is modern Indian and we start with African king prawns and Tandoori chicken. The cost of £15 may seem staggering for a single prawn, but it appears at the table the size of a banana. This is a dish meant to cause ooh’s and aah’s and yes, size does matter. They’re coated with a light wash of saffron and coconut and almost make a meal. The Tandoori chicken is unlike most; it’s moist and succulent, not overly dried out from the clay oven, though a few more minutes by the coals would make it a perfect dish.
In a mix of East and West, we spot red deer on the menu and decide it must be tried. It doesn’t disappoint, and neither does my stir-fry of prawns (not as big as the African ones, but I cope) with Tanjore spices. A few side dishes are overly salty. Aubergine crush, a puree of smoked aubergine, would be wonderful if the salt flavor wasn’t so overpowering, but thankfully the mains were kept away from the salt shaker, so all is well.
Indian restaurants are not typically known for their desserts. Rarely do I find myself torn over not two, never mind several different sweets. A dark chocolate soufflé even graces the menu. We share a saffron-poached pear with a wonderfully crisp, caramelized bottom, edged up against rice pudding on one side, and a dollop of anise ice cream on the other. If only it was as light in calories as it looks and tastes. The flavors sing, and my guest, who is a real rice pudding fan, swoons over it.This is a dish worth saving room for.
The lovely little “afters” which so often separate fine dining from not, are part of the regime here at Cinnamon Kitchen. And there’s not a single After Eight in sight. A pineapple jelly which surprises by not being overly sweet, tastes like a piece of the real fruit and is a good pairing with the delicate home-made coconut macaroon which looks heavy, but is anything but. Cinnamon Kitchen is like a trip down a spice trail of old flavors and new, with enough familiarity to make it comfortable, and plenty of surprises along the way.
