Zephyr: Dash
Hung proudly in Zephyr is a piece of art proclaiming: “If you can’t be kind, be vague.” Warning: I’m going to be neither.
Let’s cut to the chase: save your money.
- Food: 5.5/10
- Service: 5/10
- Interiors: 7/10
- Atmosphere 6/10
- Value for money: 5/10
- Screams: restaurant group
I’ll start from the beginning of the night. We waltzed down Portobello Road, our gait suddenly assisted by a mysterious gale. Perhaps it was God, kindly attempting to usher us back to the tube to save ourselves time and money. But apparently God does not, like many of us, know his lefts and rights and we were blown through Zephyr’s doors toward our table.
Things were looking promising. The table was adorned by the glow of a tall candle, the glassware was adorable and the crowd encouragingly yuppie. The brief: haute Greek dining. Spoiler, the only thing ‘haute’ about the experience was the bill. It’s well-known that Greece doesn’t really do conventional economics and as such I’m not sure the tasting menu was worth £75 a head.
Judging purely by the size of the potato terrines, it’s not your traditional high dining rip-off. But I’m not in the market for a block of potato that could form the foundations for a house. Nor am I fussed by a mandatory shaving of truffle on deep-fried, under-seasoned carbs. Therein lies a theme of the night: stunt food that attempts to justify high prices with anything but good food or good service.
In-keeping with this theme were the interiors. An elegant comment I oft-profess is that the bogs tell you much of what you need to know about a restaurant. On the surface, a very good bog all around. Nice yellow tile, plenty of mirrors to ogle at yourself in. But I’m sure had I visited later in the evening, with time for the food to take effect, it would have served as a more honest reflection of the quality of plumbing.
Back to the food. Here’s what we ate:
Smoked Aubergine — roasted sesame, coriander, crispy onions
Highlight of the meal. Well balanced flavours and textures. Delicious. Good start.
Tzatziki greek yoghurt, cucumber, mint
Without the dill oil, would have been very mediocre. Overall: just about fine.
Greek Salad. barrel aged feta, caper leaf, rusks
Not great. Call me ignorant, but being a Greek restaurant doesn’t necessitate a Greek Salad on the menu. Waste of table space. Justifiable perhaps in tomato season.
Beans baked butter beans, feta, kalamata olives
Good but nothing special.
Aubergine citrus yoghurt, dukkha, parsley
The aubergine verged on offensive. Another waste of table space. Soggy, no textural variety.
Mushroom orzo pasta wild mushrooms, truffle
Rich and flavourful but an odd addition to the menu. Didn’t make much sense to me.
Charred tenderstem broccoli tsalafouti cream cheese, dill, lemon
Another highlight. Fragrant but still simple and subtle. Good job. But, at the same time, not that much of an achievement to please a vegetarian with a plate of broccoli.
Crispy potato terrine, metsovone custard, truffle
Why, God, why? Custard was good on its own but added more fat to an already fatty dish.
Saragli baklava rolls, greek pistachio, mastic ice cream
Please forgive any historical/cultural ignorance, but the pistachios tasted remarkably like the smell of my lifelong smoker aunt’s car. You could have hit me over the head, revived me and stated that I was in a bush-tucker trial and my challenge was to eat a Camel Blue. Blindfolded, I’m not sure I could tell the difference.
Zephyr made me lose faith in London’s restaurant scene. I suppose, what else is a landlord meant to do but lease a pricey location on Portobello to a sub-par yet (sorry, Millennials) barely Instagrammable new opening. I lost energy even writing this review. Finishing with that.
