Young Turks at The Ten Bells - review

To its first-floor dining room and second-floor private room have come chefs James Lowe and Isaac McHale, two of the self-styled Young Turks. (The third musketeer, Ben Greeno, is currently involved in David Chang's Sydney outpost of his New York Momofuku restaurants.) They have initiated a three-month residency, which started on November 1 and will run until January 29, 2012. 

These chefs, who have worked in estimable places - McHale was development chef at The Ledbury, Lowe led the kitchen at nearby St John Bread & Wine - are spoken of with great reverence in the foodosphere. One blogger, quick off the mark to review Ten Bells, wrote: "I love the risks they have so far undertaken." Brief pop-ups, some lasting as long as an evening, sold out in a trice via Twitter and strike me as not especially risky, more like fun or self-indulgence, but we eat out in a world now where impermanence and wobbly tables are virtues. I am waiting for the Restaurant of the Tents outside St Paul's.

Behind a door with a sign on it saying "No Entry - Toilets are Downstairs" there is a worn, bare-wood staircase with scabrous walls that goes up to a sign proclaiming "Live East Die Young". The restaurant, by contrast, seems almost salubrious, an effect heightened by cordial fleet-of-foot service - with everyone wearing blue-and-white striped pinnies - organised by Daniel Willis and Johnny Smith of The Clove Club, the private dining club in Dalston.

A jumble of mismatched furniture - some chairs are markedly more comfortable than others - a chandelier, a neon scribble imploring "Keep Me Safe" and a take on the 16th-century painting of Gabrielle d'Estrées et une de ses soeurs - that one where the two are portrayed nude in a bath with the sister pinching the nipple of the mistress of King Henry IV of France - with men's faces, one moustachioed, substituted, add up to a merry mise en scène.

All diners are presented with a gin and tonic made with Hendrick's gin plus a slice of cucumber to emphasise the note of that essence in the blend. The weekly-changing menu described as "four courses with some snacks" is an inventive, intuitive list, scrupulously seasonal, healthy and in a state of equilibrium that only a prescribed meal could achieve. And at £39, it is good value.

The first three items (presumably the snacks) - slices of Middle White ham, potato crisps with kimchee mayonnaise and oyster with dulse - arrive lickety split. "This is a bit like a picnic," says one of my two companions. The other describes the ham as "felty". Assuming that this is a highly technical ham-judging term, I nod wisely in agreement. It turns out - music is thumping - that she actually said salty. The large home-made potato crisps, reminiscent of an offering at Elliot's Café in Borough Market where McHale had apparently intended to cook, are also salty. Although you might imagine a North Atlantic seaweed to be naturally salty, the blobs of dulse only attract the comment that a dash of Japanese rice vinegar might have been added.

A long wait and then come green radishes, an Oriental variety, finely mandolined and steamed accompanying smoky squid rings and a powerful, verdant tarragon purée. This and the following - after another long wait - assembly of crisp Jerusalem artichoke slices, roasted onion layers and big-fisted watercress are the two culinary highlights of the evening. The onion dish seems the perfect evocation of Bonfire Night, which it happens to be.

A hallmark of the New Kids on the Block school of catering - a category in which I include Noma, where McHale spent a brief time - is playfulness with textures, including an appreciation of the pleasure in crunch. Both the slow-cooked soft ox cheek of the meaty course and the poached pear with honey granita in the dessert of chestnut mousse were topped with contrasting textures, something like Indian sev in the case of the ox cheek, seemingly pulverised brandy snap for the granita. It is a fine notion but makes less of an impact through immediate repetition.

An admirable policy towards wines on the brief list is a constant mark-up of £10 on the bottle price. Working on the principle that this system pays off more effectively the higher in price you go, we chose the Franck Balthazar Chaillot Cornas, at £34 the second-most expensive red.

I don't remember the vintage and it isn't mentioned on the wine list but I would go along with the following online description of this Rhône Syrah of 2008: "Sappy and precise, offering smart raspberry and cherry compote flavours as well as nuances of spice cake violet pastille". I couldn't have put it better myself.

We ate at Young Turks at Ten Bells on a Saturday evening. Some tables turned, some didn't, so it is worth getting on the waiting list, even if it is claimed that it is fully booked for November.

Young Turks at The Ten Bells
First Floor, 84 Commercial Street, E1 6LY