Review: The Happenstance
The Happenstance – the latest venture from the group behind The Folly, The Anthologist and The Refinery – must be one of the most visually busy restaurants in existence. It is a hodge-podge, mish-mash mélange of colours, patterns and textures. The restaurant features a hardwood floor overlooked by terribly modern stainless steel lamps, whereas the bar is an explosion of tiling, angular chandeliers and rustic looking plant pots. It’s all a bit bizarre, and the type of thing which can either seem totally cool or totally naff depending on your experience there.
Another way of looking at it is that there is something to cater to all tastes – a theme which is reflected in the menu. It is a large selection proffering a cuisine of indecipherable origin: flatbreads muscle for space alongside burgers, satay and prawn crackers sit alongside ceviche, and Mediterranean-type salads are followed by a section for hefty steaks. If you can’t find something of fancy here, it’s safe to say you’re simply not hungry.
My friend opted for the popcorn shrimp to start. It is always a test to see how a grown up restaurant presents what is essentially fast food, and The Happenstance rises to the challenge. The shrimp was tender and its coating crisp and surprisingly light. My salmon ceviche lacked a little of the citrus zing you expect from this Peruvian dish, but the colourful topping of peppers and purple flowers meant it at least looked pretty.
The delicate starter portions, however, did not prepare us for the heftiness of the mains. My friend’s burger was huge and a delicious combination of juicy meat, fresh bread and a surprise addition of pineapple. It was almost too big for its own good. In his own words, the dish was ‘an aesthetic construction worthy of admiration, but when it towers from your bottom lip to past your brows, it proves tricky too eat.’ Apparently it was still as good when deconstructed and eaten with cutlery.
My rib-eye steak was equally enormous, flavourful and cooked to a tender medium rare. It required neither much sauce nor much chewing, which is a testament to the succulence of the meat. It came accompanied by a peppery bit of greenery, grilled mushrooms and tomato, and a flower pot’s worth of chips (or ‘chipped potatoes’, as they’re called at The Happenstance). Often larger portions are a case of substituting quality for quantity, but the dishes here – although for the most part simple crowd-pleasers – are genuinely tasty. It may be the location which is influencing the mammoth meals: a stone’s throw from St Paul’s, it is apt to cater to the hungry (predominantly male) masses from the City. With prices ranging from £9ish for a salad to £24ish for a fillet steak, it’s standardly priced for the area too.
The desserts let the side down ever so slightly: on the night we visited, there were only three on offer. The brownie with ice cream was sweet rather than rich, but the cheese board aimed to satisfy, comprising generous slabs of the hard stuff, along with quince jelly, apple slices and upmarket crackers.
It is almost worth skipping this course entirely in favour of the cocktails, as this is where The Happenstance really shines. Their diverse selection of inventive tipples shows real flair, not least in the way they are presented. My friend’s Goldflish In A Bag literally came in a bag (complete with the orange peel goldfish), while my version of an Old Fashioned came topped with a crispy slice of real bacon. The cocktail colour chart in the menu is handy too – it shows you where your drink falls between Sweet, Dry, Tart, and Punchy, so you can’t fail to make the right choice.
A couple of hours, many mouthfuls and several slurps later, you begin to feel very at home in the curious and quirky interiors. It may be big, brazen and noisy, but still manages to create a convivial atmosphere. For all its pseudo-slickness, The Happenstance aims to please rather than pioneer: go there with a sense of fun and an empty stomach and you won’t be disappointed.
www.thehappenstancebar.co.uk
Another way of looking at it is that there is something to cater to all tastes – a theme which is reflected in the menu. It is a large selection proffering a cuisine of indecipherable origin: flatbreads muscle for space alongside burgers, satay and prawn crackers sit alongside ceviche, and Mediterranean-type salads are followed by a section for hefty steaks. If you can’t find something of fancy here, it’s safe to say you’re simply not hungry.
My friend opted for the popcorn shrimp to start. It is always a test to see how a grown up restaurant presents what is essentially fast food, and The Happenstance rises to the challenge. The shrimp was tender and its coating crisp and surprisingly light. My salmon ceviche lacked a little of the citrus zing you expect from this Peruvian dish, but the colourful topping of peppers and purple flowers meant it at least looked pretty.
The delicate starter portions, however, did not prepare us for the heftiness of the mains. My friend’s burger was huge and a delicious combination of juicy meat, fresh bread and a surprise addition of pineapple. It was almost too big for its own good. In his own words, the dish was ‘an aesthetic construction worthy of admiration, but when it towers from your bottom lip to past your brows, it proves tricky too eat.’ Apparently it was still as good when deconstructed and eaten with cutlery.
My rib-eye steak was equally enormous, flavourful and cooked to a tender medium rare. It required neither much sauce nor much chewing, which is a testament to the succulence of the meat. It came accompanied by a peppery bit of greenery, grilled mushrooms and tomato, and a flower pot’s worth of chips (or ‘chipped potatoes’, as they’re called at The Happenstance). Often larger portions are a case of substituting quality for quantity, but the dishes here – although for the most part simple crowd-pleasers – are genuinely tasty. It may be the location which is influencing the mammoth meals: a stone’s throw from St Paul’s, it is apt to cater to the hungry (predominantly male) masses from the City. With prices ranging from £9ish for a salad to £24ish for a fillet steak, it’s standardly priced for the area too.
The desserts let the side down ever so slightly: on the night we visited, there were only three on offer. The brownie with ice cream was sweet rather than rich, but the cheese board aimed to satisfy, comprising generous slabs of the hard stuff, along with quince jelly, apple slices and upmarket crackers.
It is almost worth skipping this course entirely in favour of the cocktails, as this is where The Happenstance really shines. Their diverse selection of inventive tipples shows real flair, not least in the way they are presented. My friend’s Goldflish In A Bag literally came in a bag (complete with the orange peel goldfish), while my version of an Old Fashioned came topped with a crispy slice of real bacon. The cocktail colour chart in the menu is handy too – it shows you where your drink falls between Sweet, Dry, Tart, and Punchy, so you can’t fail to make the right choice.
A couple of hours, many mouthfuls and several slurps later, you begin to feel very at home in the curious and quirky interiors. It may be big, brazen and noisy, but still manages to create a convivial atmosphere. For all its pseudo-slickness, The Happenstance aims to please rather than pioneer: go there with a sense of fun and an empty stomach and you won’t be disappointed.
www.thehappenstancebar.co.uk