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An awesome and ridiculous film that leaves you thrilled beyond the point of your natural endurance
2012
Theatre
The show has suddenly become quite wonderful, and the galvanising factor is the terrific stage debut of Melanie C
Blood Brothers
Music
The British pop music industry may be eating itself but if Muse are the pick of what it can offer the world in 2010 then British music is in rude health indeed
Muse
I was smitten by both Gilberts enormous luxuriant moustache and the intelligence and nuance of this highly entertaining play
I totally recommend Babbo to anyone who is looking for really good and traditional Italian food
Always been a fan but never seen them live. I was ecstatic to be part of this epic event. WOW!
London,
Evening Standard rating
Reader rating
Description: Saf claims to be the capital's only raw food restaurant. They use 100% botanical non-refined items and no animal products to give a complete vegan experience which is accessible to all.
Phone: 020 7613 0007
Website: http://www.safrestaurant.co.uk/
Open: Mon-Fri noon-3.30pm, dinner Mon-Sat 6.30-11pm
Hot dish: Melanie Steel recommends chocolate ganache tart and mojita rosa
I’m just mad about Saffron, Saffron’s mad about me. So sang Donovan, Britain’s answer to Bob Dylan (mainly because they both wore peaked caps). Being the late Sixties and a time of love and peace, they were both probably vegetarians, which I most emphatically am not. I’ve always viewed the rejection of carnivorous habits with suspicion. In fact, my heart sinks when there’s no meat on the menu. As Saf is such a place, I approached my lunch there with trepidation, making a note of the nearest burger bar in case I needed some real food afterwards.
Saf is an intriguing name, isn’t it? My first guess that it was short for saffron was way off beam. Neither does it stand for Service Access Facilities or Structural Adjustment Facility, two definitions thrown up by the world’s largest internet search engine. No, Saf stands for Simply Authentic Food, but the word also means ‘life’ in Turkish. I’m certain that Messrs Dylan and Donovan would have approved.
Apart from authenticity, Saf’s main claim to fame is that the food served is predominantly raw, and nothing is cooked above 48C. This only increased my shudder factor: I’ve always considered eating raw food to be a habit embraced solely by the rich and neurotic who spend their lives aiming for a smaller jean size.
Saf is in Shoreditch, a part of Hackney that’s now as trendy as David Cameron’s beachwear. I was meeting my friend the architect, who sandwiched lunch in between visiting a couple of his favourite Hawksmoor churches, one in nearby Spitalfields. When I say ‘sandwiched’, I’m speaking metaphorically. Naturally, you’ll find no yeast on the Saf menu. Nor animal products. Nor dairy or anything processed. Gulp.
As we walked into the narrow but surprisingly light bar area, I began to wish I’d had a bacon butty for breakfast. Instantly, the architect began purring about the décor, but that’s because all designers love minimalism – or, as he put it, ‘pure lines’. Naturally, there is wood everywhere and dark red sleek chairs and pretty, glowing lights. The whole place has a clean feel to it, presumably to match its ethos.
There’s an eating area outside; inside there is an unusual quietness. People are murmuring, not shouting. A laid-back feeling pervades the air and it is surprisingly easy to hold a conversation. Idly, the architect wondered if the absence of meat encourages a more spiritual atmosphere, but I am more cynical and thought not.
I was expecting the food to be interesting: what I wasn’t expecting was to be spoilt for choice. Amazingly I found that I wanted to eat almost everything on the menu. Similarly dazzled, the architect started with white bean hummus with roasted garlic, mint oil, harissa and crostini. He said it was good but he preferred the standard chickpea version. My spring dumplings were filled with spinach, dates, caramelised onion, water chestnuts and black vinaigrette. I swooned.
Next, my guest had the Saf bowl. It was a kaleidoscope of parsnip rice, courgette-sesame noodles, shitake, avocado, sunomono and mizuna. He said it was delicious. My non-pasta ravioli was made of something green, stuffed with nuts and spinach, and I finished every mouthful. All the dishes were generous and looked pretty on the plate.
Diners were mainly young and probably local office workers: being trendy Hackney, I didn’t see any pin-striped suits. Our waitress was dreamy and solicitous, although involved in a curious competitiveness with another waitress.
We drank excellent organic rosé wine and discussed the latest proposals for tall buildings in London. Putting professional jealousies aside, he argued the schemes were ‘poetry in motion’. Which is a bit how I felt about Saf, which confounded all my expectations and refuted some of my prejudices. It’s a place I thoroughly recommend, but not if you’re in a rush. The service takes its time but, again, that seems to fit the whole ethos of the place.
Saf. Definitely not naf.
Details are correct at the time of publication - please check with venue before booking.
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