W ith Brexit threatening to turf out as many foreign elements from London’s streets as legally possible, thankfully, there’s a restaurateur looking to keep much of it in the city. Or, at least on his menu. The recently opened Flavour Bastard at the end of Frith Street has proven to be something of a conundrum for London’s food critics who either love them, or seem unable to pigeonhole them. “We’re not an Indian restaurant by any stretch of the imagination,” says Pratap Chahal. “Sure, we use Indian ingredients and flavours, but take inspiration from cuisines around the world, making us cuisine-agnostic.” Located on the same street as the infamous Ronnie Scott’s jazz den, in an area known for flouting the rules with its racy nightlife, Flavour Bastard is right at home for an eatery that claims to be “anything but authentic”. The restaurant itself is unpretentious, horse-shoeing two long dining areas around a well-equipped cocktail bar. The space blends the bohemian with the industrial: pebbledash surfaces meet Bauhaus aesthetics, with mottled concrete, grey and purple walls, tastefully exposed industrial light fixtures, and tongue-in-cheek street art hung on its walls.

A glance over the menu’s “small” and “tiny plates” reveals a set of mouth-watering mash-ups. Miso and mango, pork and cinnamon, jerk spices and rum, sardine and banana chips, zaatar and soy — are just some of the pairings. The seemingly attention-deficit formula might put off more conventional diners, but you suspect that’s entirely the point. “It’s a bastard cuisine which means my food is a combination of my French Michelin training, Indian heritage and travel around the world.” Chahal is no newbie when it comes to the strictures of serious cooking, which takes the anxiety out of expecting overworked plates of irredeemable whimsy. Having cut his teeth at Michelin stalwarts Chez Bruce and Gordon Ramsay at Claridge’s, the erstwhile English student honed his cooking skills at London’s august mainstays, The Orrery, Galvin Bistrot and Cinnamon Club. Prior to putting his name on the door Chahal opened his own private supper club (check out That Hungry Chef on Instagram) for four years, to create and refine dishes that were irreverent yet tempered by a steady hand. With his boldly named restaurant having opened in Soho in September 2017, Chahal is ‘all-hands-on-deck’ and visibly proud of the space.

With everything to play for on a tapas-style menu, I opt for steak tartare, white lentil doughnut, steamed rice cake with house kimchi, and Caribbean-style mussels. The steak tartare heralds what is to come — full flavour behaviour of palate-soaking umami, tangy-sweet notes, smokey hints of chilli, with perfect accents of crunch. The fried vadas offer a creamy, cheesy centre, and chilli with the salty-smokiness of chorizo for the finish. The rice cakes seem a wink-and-nudge to homegrown ‘Chindian’ cuisine, married with fragrant, sweet-chilli kimchi and spring onions. The Caribbean mussels are a brain-boggling celebration of hearty shellfish stock woven with the smoke and tang of flavour you usually encounter in a raan , and surprisingly it works! I go for broke with the smoked goat with pomegranate and frankincense, and pork belly with cinnamon and pepper. The tender and slow-cooked mutton takes on the robust aromas and flavours of garam masala and shaami kebab with the orange and pomegranate offering pops of sweetness and acidity to cut through its heft. The pork belly is a winner — the meat is tender under a jammy sweetness that’s offset by the heat of cinnamon, the crunch of carrot, and the salt of diced bacon. All of this is washed down with delicious ‘Bastard’s Brew’, a custom craft beer akin to a weissbier, but laden with honey and mango notes. I didn’t have the courage (or room) to attempt what looked like an equally inventive cocktail list. In the end, despite its whirling dervish trajectory over a dandy wayfarer’s food diary, Flavour Bastard manages to keep Indian soul at the heart of its food without being overbearing. Crucially, the dishes offer a balance of taste and texture, without shying away from bold flavours, or reducing diners to the lethargy you encounter with such satiating food. Whether you’re looking to nip in for a few cheeky plates of soul-food or start off smart, but become increasingly and unabashedly merry through Soho’s lanes come sundown, Flavour Bastard seems on course for becoming a mainstay in London. Go before it gets on one of those smug ‘best restaurant’ lists and a table becomes a few months’ wait.

Govind Dhar is a journalist based in Sri Lanka

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