The last time The European tagged me in a restaurant link on Instagram with the obligatory plaintive “PLS,” it was a disaster. I vowed there and then I would never be cowed into visiting a restaurant because of social media ever again. Nevertheless, when she tagged me once again, this one looked genuinely amazing. A tasting menu, wine pairing, a marriage of Italian and Japanese cuisines. What’s not to like? Angelina in Dalston beckoned.
Our dinner came at the end of a rare ‘Mike Day,’ where I took myself to the British Museum, and when the crowds and the Great Court’s greenhouse effect became too much, I decamped to the magnificent Brewdog in Waterloo for filthy buffalo fries and a S.I.P.A. in the sun, awaiting my other half while she finished up her performing arts. Bloomsbury to Waterloo to Dalston wasn’t the most efficient route across London, but at least it worked up an appetite.
Angelina is a short walk from Dalston Junction, but the five-minute stroll on foot is enough to remind us how amazing this part of London is; essentially what Shoreditch was like fifteen years ago: a tangle of dirty streets, manicured gardens, beautiful, sky-high murals, and rough, stencilled graffiti. Experimental cocktails like the minimalist 🔶🟥🔵 (‘The Bar with Shapes for a Name’) rub shoulders with the most threatening pubs you ever did see, and chicken shops do a roaring trade next to very cool and equally full restaurants. Angelina, thankfully, is the latter. We were swiftly greeted and shown to our seats at the counter.
The vibe is cozy but not overdone. The white marble tables and countertop, leather seats, and olive tree in the corner work well with chochin lanterns and noren curtains that separate the front of house from the heart of house. The restaurant is reassuringly full, but not noisy. In fact, from time to time, the chattering dulls down to almost nothing. We start with a couple of very refreshing cocktails, the Yuzuyu, made with yuzu, sake, Cinzano, and ginger, and the Shoga Highball, with whisky, ginger, and spices. Both were tasty and generous, and we were drinking them well into the wine flight, which was decadently odd.
Angelina’s tasting menu – the only menu on offer – is actually more of a Kaiseki set up; thirteen dishes spread over six courses, with options for a supplemental A5 wagyu dish (which we shared) and truffle added to the pasta course (which we declined). The T.L.;D.R. is that what we ate, and the experience we received, is a leading contender for meal of the year. Everything was spectacular. Antipasti (enjoyed with the cocktails, no wine) was light and a great introduction to how well Italian and Japanese ingredients go together. Mussel, melon, cucumber, and wasabi tobiko was served chilled and in the shell. A tempura of cod was garnished with venison and herring roe; an earthy canapé that was dangerously moreish. Finally, compressed watermelon, sardine, and yuzu kosho showcased the freshness of Italian food with the flavours of Japan. It was very good indeed.
The next course was Chawanmushi, a Japanese egg custard with ikura (salmon caviar), Datterini tomatoes, and Bottarga; a challenging dish where the fishiness came into its own and reigned supreme. Again, the combinations were no fad; they worked in complete harmony together. The dish being served alongside the A5 wagyu, which was mind-blowing. As mentioned, we shared it, but The European pouted at how fast it was disappearing, so she got an extra slice, courtesy of my generosity.
Angelina’s served up a menu that got better and better, without exception. The bread course, sourdough focaccia, was served with crudo; sea bream carpaccio with cherries and almond, and goma, a Japanese salad served with Cuore Del Vesuvio tomatoes and peaches. “Posh apéro,” I remarked to The European, who nodded in agreement, her cheeks full of nibbles, including the tomatoes, that she called “The best I’ve ever had”.
The pasta course, cestini baskets with girolles and hazelnuts, was brief but filling, and one of the best pastas I have ever eaten. Though the wine pairing so far had been impeccable, the biodynamic orange wine from southern Italy was spot on here, cutting through the richness of the pasta and its hearty accompaniments. The Binchō-tan (a form of Japanese barbecue) was the main course, a grilled quail leg and breast with lobster, served on a slice of tart Brattiere melon from Apulia. It was served with Japanese brioche topped with rich chicken liver parfait. It was unique, exciting, and mouth-wateringly good. I helpfully showed The European pictures of cute little quails as she tried to enjoy it.
To end the meal, we enjoyed a chocolate tart with yogurt and lime, white sesame ice cream, and a baked custard cake with matcha. As always, the barometer of success is The European’s receptiveness to pudding, and in this case, she approved. The three desserts were a fitting end to an incredible journey.
As incredible as the food was, what made an impression for me was how Angelina delivers it all. The open kitchen, though smooth and on point, doesn’t interact much with the diners. Instead, the servers are the stars of the show. Ours, a down-to-earth guy with a heavy Scottish accent, was legendary. He curated our food and the wine, explaining everything down to the smallest detail, with bags of character. Empties were cleared with a booming “Let’s get you some more booze”, and new glasses were delivered with dry but informative barbs like “This fabulous one’s from Etna, it’s blowing up there. The next vintage will be nothing but ashes and pyroclastic flow, so enjoy it while it lasts”. The quail was set down with “This is the best thing in the world”. We loved him. He ran over to shake our hands as we left.
Angelina is not cheap, but as always, if you go on value, you get oodles of it here. The food is probably amongst the best I have had in London. The fusion of Italian and Japanese food could easily be jarring, akin to dive pubs mixing it up with Bauhaus cocktail bars in its home neighbourhood. Both shouldn’t work, but they do, and Angelina isn’t gimmicky in the slightest (no salami with chopsticks here). The wine pairings were as accurate as a Swiss wristwatch, and my only regret was that I forgot to ask for their names to be written down for me.
The waitress who took our payment explained that the menu changes every six to eight weeks, so we “can come back then”. Maybe not quite that soon, but make no mistake about it, Angelina is as returnable a restaurant as they come. It singlehandedly redeemed Instagram and my faith in food that can be comforting, familiar, and simultaneously boundary-pushing and giddily exciting.
Visited on 19th August 2024.
The food thing. 
Leave a comment