Review: Pizarro
An open plan kitchen is a daring design move for a home, let alone a restaurant. Not only can diners see the handling of each and every ingredient, they can also witness the handling of each and every chef mood – both of which have the potential to quash the most raging appetite.
At Pizarro, the second restaurant from Spanish chef José Pizarro (the other, niftily named José, is a few doors up on fashionable Bermondsey Street) the kitchen is the focal point of the cosy interior, and from our neat wooden table we were able to watch José and his team hard at work. But far from the cheffy tantrums Gordon Ramsey et al would have you believe is the norm, they were smiling.
As soon as our starters hit the table, it became clear they had every reason to do so. My scallops were exceptional, left gloriously in-tact so that when the sweet abductor meat was polished off, you could savour the meaty roe. The delicate wrapping of pancetta amped up the saltiness, which was in turn softened by the simple cauliflower purée. My dining partner opted for king prawns which were firm, juicy and served in an earthy yet fragrant shitake mushroom sauce.
Wine was enthusiastically recommended by our French waiter, David. He suggested a small carafe of the prettily named 2011 Flower and the Bee to see us through our starters. Crisp and citrusy with a savoury finish, it’s an eminently quaffable wine made from the Spanish Treixadura grape. We then moved on to a bottle of 2009 Terrer D’Aubert Cabernet Sauvignon, which was full-bodied with the distinctive creamy vanilla notes typified by French oak barrels. Both delicious, and both dangerously drinkable.
Expectations were huge for our mains as we watched José and his chefs simmer and sizzle away. The menu at Pizarro is not large (it offers five or six dishes for each course, and changes regularly) so it’s tantalising to guess which meal is on its way as the white plates are laid out. My beef cheeks were the epitome of tender; in fact, with a creamy accompaniment of pumpkin purée, my knife was entirely redundant. My dining partner is a huge duck fan, and he brazenly announced his dish to be the superior of the two. A carefully assembled taster led me to agree: the triad of rich duck, sweet pear and slightly bitter greens was flavour pairing at its best. The dishes are presented in such a way that they look considered (the brown and vibrant orange of my dish was particularly striking) without being fussy. The focus is really on the flavour and heartiness of the food.
Our cheese board was the only slightly underwhelming element, comprising haphazardly-cut hard varieties with tiny biscuits and a dollop of apricoty, cinnamony purée (Pizarro's blender must work very hard indeed). The chocolate cake, however, was quite a feat: rich without being too sweet, dense without being too heavy and jam-packed with crunchy hazelnuts.
This is food designed for satisfaction rather than showiness, but it goes down a storm. As we practically licked the plates clean we realised why the kitchen is open plan – it’s so the chefs can see their sated customers grinning back.
www.josepizarro.com
At Pizarro, the second restaurant from Spanish chef José Pizarro (the other, niftily named José, is a few doors up on fashionable Bermondsey Street) the kitchen is the focal point of the cosy interior, and from our neat wooden table we were able to watch José and his team hard at work. But far from the cheffy tantrums Gordon Ramsey et al would have you believe is the norm, they were smiling.
As soon as our starters hit the table, it became clear they had every reason to do so. My scallops were exceptional, left gloriously in-tact so that when the sweet abductor meat was polished off, you could savour the meaty roe. The delicate wrapping of pancetta amped up the saltiness, which was in turn softened by the simple cauliflower purée. My dining partner opted for king prawns which were firm, juicy and served in an earthy yet fragrant shitake mushroom sauce.
Wine was enthusiastically recommended by our French waiter, David. He suggested a small carafe of the prettily named 2011 Flower and the Bee to see us through our starters. Crisp and citrusy with a savoury finish, it’s an eminently quaffable wine made from the Spanish Treixadura grape. We then moved on to a bottle of 2009 Terrer D’Aubert Cabernet Sauvignon, which was full-bodied with the distinctive creamy vanilla notes typified by French oak barrels. Both delicious, and both dangerously drinkable.
Expectations were huge for our mains as we watched José and his chefs simmer and sizzle away. The menu at Pizarro is not large (it offers five or six dishes for each course, and changes regularly) so it’s tantalising to guess which meal is on its way as the white plates are laid out. My beef cheeks were the epitome of tender; in fact, with a creamy accompaniment of pumpkin purée, my knife was entirely redundant. My dining partner is a huge duck fan, and he brazenly announced his dish to be the superior of the two. A carefully assembled taster led me to agree: the triad of rich duck, sweet pear and slightly bitter greens was flavour pairing at its best. The dishes are presented in such a way that they look considered (the brown and vibrant orange of my dish was particularly striking) without being fussy. The focus is really on the flavour and heartiness of the food.
Our cheese board was the only slightly underwhelming element, comprising haphazardly-cut hard varieties with tiny biscuits and a dollop of apricoty, cinnamony purée (Pizarro's blender must work very hard indeed). The chocolate cake, however, was quite a feat: rich without being too sweet, dense without being too heavy and jam-packed with crunchy hazelnuts.
This is food designed for satisfaction rather than showiness, but it goes down a storm. As we practically licked the plates clean we realised why the kitchen is open plan – it’s so the chefs can see their sated customers grinning back.
www.josepizarro.com