Akoko review: West African restaurant has one of London’s top tasting menus
Akoko, a West African restaurant on Fitzrovia’s Berners Street, is like (almost) nothing else in London, says Steve Dinneen
Given the breadth and depth of fine dining options in London, it seems both absurd and depressingly inevitable that African cuisine would be so underrepresented. It wasn’t until 2017 that the first super-hyped, super-fancy, super-expensive West African restaurant opened its doors in the form of now two-Michelin starred Ikoyi.
It was a revelation, earning itself the status of a Nigerian Noma, moving to a swanky new venue on The Strand and being named on the World’s 50 Best Restaurant list. I guess 445 million West Africans weren’t wrong after all.
Ikoyi was followed by Akoko, which takes a similar approach, using French and Spanish cooking techniques to cook (largely) British ingredients using West African recipes.
And boy does it do it well. Akoko is one of those rare restaurants where everything just feels right. The dining room, decked out in a distinctive clay brown, is stylish but inviting. The staff hit the sweet spot on the spectrum between friendly (good) and chummy (bad); a subtle but important distinction. And the food is some of the best I’ve eaten this year.
It starts with a kind of towering, macaroon-looking creation featuring layers of chicken mousse, yassa, liberal folds of truffle, and a dainty little purple flower – it’s a statement of intent: this is not granny’s jollof rice.
Don’t just take my word for it: I was having lunch with Riaz Phillips, author of two cookbooks on Caribbean cuisine, which has plenty of overlap with West African food. And don’t just take our word for it: we were there with writer/producer Mickey Down, co-creator of hit TV show Industry, whose mother is Ghanaian. We all agreed this is one of the best tasting menus in London.
It starts with a kind of towering, macaroon-looking creation featuring layers of chicken mousse, yassa (a mildly spicy Senegalese dish made with chicken and onions), liberal folds of truffle, and a dainty little purple flower – it’s a statement of intent: this is not granny’s jollof rice.
Next comes an elegant curl of octopus (a meat I love but fear I’ll one day have to give up when we realise they are in fact cleverer than we are) in a neat puddle of vatapá, a dish taken by slaves from West Africa to Brazil, made from bread, coconut milk, ground peanuts and palm oil. It’s quietly stunning, an unshowy demonstration of a mastery of the grill; when the day comes to eat my final tentacle, let it be this one. It comes with a side of moi moi (AKA moin moin), a bean pudding made with onions, peppers and spices. Phillips explains that this would usually come with a boiled egg nestled in the middle but he seemed to enjoy it nonetheless.
For a £35 supplementary fee (which you should definitely opt for) you can get Exmoor Caviar and goat cashew cream on a Ghanian spiced plantain fritter, which expertly tiptoes the line between hearty and decadent.
I once had lunch with the British-Ghanaian fashion designer Ozwald Boateng, who absolutely rejected the idea that Nigeria had anything to do with jollof rice; it’s a touchy subject
I told a half-truth before: you may not find granny’s jollof rice here but you will still find jollof rice. Indeed, it comes with a leather-bound pamphlet explaining its distinguished status and regional variations (I once had lunch with the British-Ghanaian fashion designer Ozwald Boateng, who absolutely rejected the idea that Nigeria had anything to do with jollof rice; it’s a touchy subject). This version, served in a rustic ceramic bowl, is topped with puffed rice and tastes like the platonic ideal of jollof rice. It comes with lamb and aubergine in Ghanaian ‘shito’ hot pepper sauce.
There was a dessert, there were petit fours, and they were very nice – but I was still dreaming about the jollof rice. So were Mickey and Riaz, who were by this stage reminiscing about family meals.
At just £55 for the short version of the set menu (and £120 for the longer one), Akoko is also fantastic value. We skipped the matched wine (£50 more) in favour of a round of home made scotch bonnet and lemon cordials. Three people eating a tasting menu in central London getting change from £200 – you can’t say fairer than that.