Ikoyi

180 Strand

Strand and Covent Garden

London WC2R 1EA

BY NEAL MARTIN | AUGUST 02, 2024

The Food:

Gola peppercorn broth

Smoked 120-day dry-aged sirloin in a poppyseed tartlet with one-week cured trout and trout roe

10-day aged sea bass with Cambridgeshire asparagus and crispy white kombu

Drunken squid with fermented rice and black truffle with confit marinated Vin Jaune

Saffron crème caramel with Kaluga caviar in a savory beetroot reduction

Confit courgette tonnato with melon and hazelnut milk and pistachio oil

Suya and creamed chickpeas, smoked sweetbread, chrysanthemum and black mint with watercress

Turbot and egusi miso

Four-month-aged Angus beef, shiitake and sauerkraut with tarragon jelly, red gooseberry and Dancing Finger tomatoes

Smoked jollof rice

Cherry and Baba Ghanoush

Flower sugar & red long pepper mousse with shiitake mushroom  

Suya Cuban dark chocolate ganache

Strawberry and consommé with English wasabi

The Wines:

1999 Philipponnat Clos des Goisses Rosé	91
2019 Domaine du Pélican Arbois En Barbi	92
2017 Domaine Lamy-Caillat Chassagne-Montrachet Cailleret 1er Cru	94
1961 Lafleur	96
1970 Latour à Pomerol	92
1870 Château Margaux	89

Ikoyi is the hottest ticket in town…well…after tickets for Taylor Swift. Before you speed dial Reservations, let me forewarn you that Ikoyi is eye-watering, is-the-decimal-point-in-the-wrong-place expensive. The set menus for lunch and dinner are £200 per person and £350 per person, respectively. Add service and wine, and you’re looking at a sum that could support a family for a month (or half a Taylor Swift ticket). When you patron a restaurant at this level, the only question to ask yourself as you’re handed the bill, is do you feel any regret? For many, such astronomical sums are absurd, obscene and immoral. I told my parents. They laughed incredulously, and that was before they understood the figure was per person. But for epicures dedicated to seeking out unique gustatory experiences, who live to eat rather than eat to live, dining at Ikoyi might well be worth it at whatever the cost.

It begs the question: What justifies the price tag vis-à-vis its peers?

What does it have that others lack?

First, let’s examine how Ikoyi attained its status.

The Ikoyi kitchen.

The restaurant is a joint venture between Iré Hassan-Odulake and Jeremy Chan. Hassan-Odulake was born in Ikoyi, a wealthy suburb of Lagos in Nigeria, known for its colonial mansions, upmarket malls and restaurants, an oasis of affluence in a country whose population struggles to access basic amenities, its economy crippled by the removal of fuel subsidies and rampant inflation. Hassan-Odulake’s partner is chef Jeremy Chan, a son of Chinese and Canadian parents who grew up in Hong Kong. Already, you can see that the pair forms a multi-cultural melting pot. Unusually, Chan did not pursue a career as a chef, working in finance until his mid-twenties, but regularly cooked for friends and family, particularly fusing Western and African cuisine. Deciding to change career, Chan trained at Hibiscus with Claude Bosi, Noma and Dinner (by Heston Blumenthal) before opening Ikoyi in July 2017. On many occasions, I sauntered past its original location, just off Piccadilly in Saint James’s Market, intrigued by the name. Despite initial mixed reviews, a couple of my friends waxed lyrical about their jollof rice, but I balked at the price and never went.

Gola peppercorn broth.

Like every restaurant, Ikoyi had to survive the lockdown, but post-pandemic, it has thrived. According to a gastronome that has followed Ikoyi since its inception, the standard of cuisine has markedly increased, suggesting that Chan was ostensibly learning on the job. Having been awarded its first Michelin star in 2018, it gained a second in 2022 and is regularly included in “World’s Top 50 Best Restaurants”. They relocated to The Strand, fortunately within its quiet pedestrianized enclave close to King’s College, occupying the ground floor corner of a brutalist building, which gave them renewed impetus and higher ambitions. Like many destination restaurants, menu prices soared to a level that makes Core (£245 pp) or Ledbury (£220pp) look like Sunday lunch at Harvester. I demurred booking a table until a couple of friends suggested Ikoyi with prearranged corkage. Anticipating the caliber of wines, and boy, there was no disappointment on that count, I decided that the food plus wine package would take the sting out of the final bill for Vinous. It was now or never. So, on a momentous day with political change palpable in the air, as the country went to the ballot box, I caught the train to Ikoyi (London, not Lagos.)

Smoked 120-day dry-aged sirloin in a poppyseed tartlet with one-week cured trout and trout roe.

Ikoyi looks the part. Overseen by Studio David Thulstrup, the interior is modern in design with somber brown hues, copper paneling and large wooden tables with plenty of space between. With sufficient natural light, interior lighting is kept to a minimum, drawing eyes to the illuminated open kitchen. The runway-like zinc counter manned by chefs in their smart whites diligently prepping dishes, all under the watchful eye of Chan, is the intersection between kitchen and diner, chef and patron. It forms the restaurant’s focal point and makes it feel like a single organism that you are part of. The ambiance is tranquil, but a simmering buzz foments the feeling of being somewhere special. Conversely, I applaud the team for catering for the family with three infants next to us, though I think they were more ensconced in their crayons rather than Nigerian spices.

10-day aged sea bass with Cambridgeshire asparagus and crispy white kombu.

Let’s talk about the menu in general terms. The main surprise for me is that Ikoyi is not a culinary deep-dive into authentic West African cuisine. With perhaps the single exception of their signature dish, Ikoyi’s menu is based around Western fare but given a twist courtesy of West African spices and ingredients. This differentiates Ikoyi from its elite peers, their USP. A novel element underlies each plate, and yet there is countervailing familiarity, dishes that gastronomically traverse continents with ease. I wondered if the spices might derail the wines? Not at all. Spice levels were masterfully controlled, just a couple of the amuses bouche leaving a friendly residual fieriness. Another aspect is seasonality. To quote the restaurant itself: “The menu we created for you closed follows the seasons and what our producers, farms and fishermen bring to the table.” Fish are line-caught, meat comes from native-bred cattle, and there is an emphasis on curing or aging ingredients. Indeed, the first thing you see upon entering the restaurant is meat in a special unit completing its aging process.

Drunken squid with fermented rice and black truffle with confit marinated Vin Jaune.

The set dinner comprises 14 courses, some of which you can pop in your mouth, and none of them ever large. Dietary requirements are catered for within reason, and there are optional wine and tea-matching menus. Our waiters were less formal than I usually find, and I liked that, particularly as they were extremely well-versed in the minutiae of every dish, prompting me to scribble as much information as I could manically. This is not a Vinous Table where I will break down the anatomy of every single dish because it would end up longer than War & Peace. But I want to give you a gist of what Ikoyi offers…

Saffron crème caramel with Kaluga caviar in a savory beetroot reduction.

We commence with a broth made from caramelized chicken wings and dried mushrooms that are given a boost with gola peppercorn oil and a splash of lemon balm. The peppercorns are native to Sierra Leone and, in retrospect, might have constituted the spiciest ingredient of the entire meal. It has an intensity that really awakens the senses while also serving to cleanse the palate. It was quite a ‘punchy’ opening, perhaps wrong-footing diners into believing ensuing dishes would breach higher levels of the Scoville Scale. That is not the case at all.  

Suya and creamed chickpeas, smoked sweetbread, chrysanthemum and black mint with watercress.

The charcoal-smoked 120-day dry aged sirloin is served like a miniature paper-thin, poppyseed tart with baked sweet potato, garlic leaves, black mint and trout that had been cured for one week and trout roe, lifted by a drop of crispy chili emulsion. We are advised to pop it into our mouth whole…wow. This is such an arresting combination of flavors. My senses try to fathom how the sirloin and trout marry so effortlessly. One of the high points of the entire meal.

The sea bass and asparagus constitute the most aesthetically satisfying course. It looks like a work of art. The sea bass has been aged for ten days, and the asparagus is grown in Cambridgeshire, both lifted by crispy white kombu. This is exquisite and nuanced, and the flavors linger in the mouth.

Turbot and egusi miso.

The drunken squid and fermented rice come with black truffle, and the squid is marinated in Vin Jaune. This is more powerful in flavor, the truffle discrete and perhaps a little overwhelmed, the Vin Jaune imparting subtle richness and deepening the flavors.

A bit of theatre next. The saffron crème caramel suffused with mussels with a generous dollop of Kaluga caviar is presented at the table and beamed with all the iridescence you obtain from saffron. Our waiter then spooned on the savory beetroot reduction so that the dish turned bright yellow to bright red, a couple of drops of chili oil lending a bit of heat. I can’t even begin to explain how delicious this dish is. So, I won’t. The name is misleading because there was absolutely no sweetness, more savory with a touch of welcome earthy bitterness.

Four-month-aged Angus beef, shiitake and sauerkraut with tarragon jelly, red gooseberry and Dancing Finger tomatoes.

We then move on to the main courses. The confit yellow courgette tonnato comes with melon, hazelnut milk, pistachio oil, shiso and Agastache leaf. The courgette had been steamed for 10 hours in clear tomato water. This is light and fresh, the courgette perfectly al dente. Suya is the local Nigerian name for what we might call “kebab”. The suya of smoked sweetbread comes with creamed chickpeas, chrysanthemum and black mint with watercress. We are informed that no less than 20 spices are used in this dish, although it has no heat in the slightest, which is a good job, as by this point, we are broaching a legendary Pomerol.

The aged line-caught Cornish turbot is brushed with crab butter, wrapped in cabbage leaf and served with Egusi miso (Egusi, a Nigerian see often seed often used in soups), marinated aubergine, white beetroot amongst other accouterments, plus a side dish of perfectly cylindrical brioche and honey butter. I don’t need the brioche, to be frank, though the turbot melts in your mouth, the aubergine perhaps just a little too marinated as its flavors are lost in the crowd.

Smoked jollof rice.

The Angus beef had been aged for four months, finished in the restaurant’s own refrigerated unit, and is served with shiitake and sauerkraut with tarragon jelly, red gooseberry and Dancing Finger tomatoes. The beef is perfectly seasoned and just melts in the mouth, while the tomatoes live up to their name and just seem to “dance” with freshness and lend the dish acidity. Stunning.

Now, we come to what is the most authentic West African dish, and the one everyone is talking about, the smoked Jollof rice. As you can see from the picture, this is a complete change in terms of presentation. The rice comes with girolles and a lobster and crab custard. Guests dive in and spoon onto their plates. I have to admit, I am not dazzled by this dish. Don’t get me wrong…it is delish! Perhaps I have eaten too many rice dishes in Japan that have a similar concept? Perhaps it is a little drier than I expected? Maybe I am too accustomed to Japanese rice? I don’t know. Maybe I am too entranced by the other dishes?

Cherry and Baba Ghanoush.

We are treated to four desserts. The cherry and Baba Ghanoush come with Tahitian crème fraiche. I love the presentation here, and the crème fraiche is a neat and timely juxtaposition to the preceding lightly-spiced main courses. The flower sugar and red long pepper mousse comes with shiitake mushrooms. However, I didn’t write anything about this dish, probably because I was absorbed by the pre-phylloxera claret at that precise moment.

The suya ganache is made from Cuban dark chocolate. This is simply fabulous, with a perfect balance of flavors; the chocolate is intense in flavor yet does not define the entire dish.

Suya Cuban dark chocolate ganache.

Last but not least, the “Strawberry and consommé” with English wasabi form an elegant conclusion to the meal. I could have had a coffee to finish off, and had I known it was supplied by the excellent Difference Coffee Company, I would have ordered one. Then again, there were glasses to finish…

As I mentioned, our party prearranged corkage. I do peruse the wine list, and while there is no huge selection from around the globe, I find the wines well-chosen, albeit with prices that will inevitably add a few quid to your bill. Is that moot, given that you’re spending a fortune anyway? Overall, the sommelier service is excellent, and the decanting and stemware provided are at the level one expects.

We start with the 1999 Clos des Goisses Juste Rosé from Philipponnat. Pale pink in hue, this has a gorgeous nose, slightly honeyed and richer than I anticipated, verging on red fruit aromas such as strawberry and hints of nougat. Likewise, the palate is well-balanced and slightly viscous, lower in acidity than I suspect some would like, and has a long, quite ravishing finish. It is probably not the kind of Rosé for those seeking champagne with nerve, and I would drink this sooner rather than later. Two dry whites follow. Firstly, the 2019 Arbois En Barbi from Domaine du Pélican, the Jura winery owned by Guillaume d’Angerville. This is initially pretty neutral and demands coaxing. It opens with beeswax, simple and orange blossom scents, hints of chai and Chinese white tea. The palate is lent nerve by a touch of sour lemon, with lovely balance and fine purity on the neutral finish. Word of advice – give this an hour’s decanting before pouring. The 2017 Chassagne-Montrachet Cailleret 1er Cru from Domaine Lamy-Caillat is outstanding. Subtle white chocolate and struck match notes complement the citrus fruit, developing spine-tingling mineralité but only after 45-50 minutes. The palate is poised and tensile, with discrete walnut and hazelnut notes emerging with time, extremely harmonious on the finish that lingers tenderly in the mouth. Magnificent, though again, don’t be afraid to give it a short decant.

Strawberry and consommé with English wasabi.

The whites are great, but the trio of reds, all served blind, are rarities that I might never drink again.

My first ever 1961 Lafleur was fake, and the second was marred by TCA. Third time’s the charm? This comes from Michel Bonnefond’s cellar, the erstwhile co-owner of Christophe Roumier’s Ruchottes-Chambertin, so provenance is sound. I do notice some turbidity in the glass. The Cabernet Franc is expressive, with black truffle, potpourri, black fruit and a sprig of wild mint, perhaps a little rustic yet bewitching in perfume. The palate is medium-bodied with lovely balance and poise. Yet there is, again, an element of rusticity that pervades this Lafleur, so I am not moved to describe it as some “apogee of Pomerol”. This bottle doesn’t have the audacity of the 1961 Trotanoy nor the kaleidoscope of aromas like the 1961 Petrus, the sensuality of the 1961 Latour à Pomerol. Banal as it might be to say, it is just an effortless, delicious, mature Lafleur with no intention of blowing you away. It just wants to be drunk. Maybe there could be slightly better bottles out there, but since it is one of the most elusive Pomerol wines on the planet, I doubt I will ever find out.

The 1970 Latour à Pomerol is a bottle that I bought in Burgundy for a sum that meant there was no hesitation “popping it into my shopping trolley”. This was less turbid than the Lafleur. Vibrant black fruit, a touch of sous-bois and brine, it is not complex, but there is vivacity after half a century. The palate is a little rustic, yet there is decent depth, and it coheres over 90 minutes. Almost Left Bank in style with cedar and tobacco emerging on the elegant finish, you might think there is more Cabernet in the blend than is planted in the vineyard. This is an unpretentious Pomerol with another decade of pleasure to give.

The line-up of wines. The Lafleur and Château Margaux did not have labels, but they came from caches of the same wine.

We flailed around, guessing the age of the third red. We just had the wrong century. The 1870 Château Margaux is the oldest bottle I have tasted from the First Growth. This had not been bottled in Bordeaux but privately in the south of France, sealed in yellow wax, a cache of ten bottles auctioned last year in France. This opens up the possibility that it could have been adulterated at the time, something we discussed beforehand and after its antiquity was revealed. I couldn’t call it either way. There was no obvious facet of the wine that suggested a bit of Algerian pepping up, and one should ask whether that would have been done on a First Growth born in one of the great pre-phylloxera vintages. There is a touch of balsamic on the nose, tobacco and vestiges of red fruit. It holds up well in the glass, though it doesn’t possess anything close to the bravura of either the 1870 Lafite-Rothschild or Gruaud Larose. There is something almost conservative about the aromatics. The palate is balanced, again, not complex but framed by fine tannins. Touches of cola with modest tapering towards the finish, its refinement undiminished by age, though I would never describe it as an earth-shattering time-defying claret. But what a privilege.

So, Ikoyi… The level of gastronomy, execution, presentation, ingenuity of ingredients and, at times, innovative combinations deserve accolades and Michelin stars, definitely two and close to three. Whereas some of what you might call ‘retrograde’ restaurants are reverting back to simplicity, and trust me, that is something that should be welcomed, Ikoyi is a reminder that achieving great heights, a chef with a clear vision, is something that should be cherished, even if, unlike art, it can only be experienced by few. As a neophyte apropos West African cuisine, I enjoyed this culinary adventure. Do the dishes justify the price? No doubt justification comes from running a restaurant at this level: sky-high rents, escalating fuel costs and not least, paying for a brigade that can maintain this level. It’s a team effort. Furthermore, the restaurant was fully booked. If people are happy to pay the price, then why not? Don’t want to pay? Don’t go. There are others. Ikoyi might belong to a handful of restaurants that I treasure experiencing if only just once, joining the likes of El Bulli before it shut its doors, The Fat Duck during Heston’s heyday, Chez Nico at The Dorchester in the late 90s.

Life’s just one time.

No, I felt not one iota of regret…

Walking back to Waterloo Station, I reflect upon the food I had devoured and the wines drunk and pass a long queue, perhaps 90 to 100 deep. At the end is parked a van from which two volunteers distribute food, loaves of supermarket bread, cans of soup and so on. The men and women receiving the handouts do not necessarily look homeless. They are just finding it hard to keep their head above water in tough economic times.

It’s just gone ten o’clock. I look at the BBC news website. Exit polls predict a landslide for the Labour Party. The new PM will face issues on many fronts. Perhaps the one closest to home is inequality.

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