Bottarga is a world away from the Aegean Sea, but it’s making waves in London.
The Greeks are known for their hospitality, but I was still surprised when I was served a dessert as long as my forearm at Bottarga, a Greek neighbourhood restaurant situated halfway between Sloane Square and Fulham Broadway. But I’m getting ahead of myself, so I’ll rewind.
A long way from the azure blues of the Aegean, Bottarga brings a burst of Greek sunshine to the streets of Chelsea – and judging by the buzz on a recent Friday night, it’s already a welcome addition to London’s neighbourhood dining scene.
Gourmands may have heard whispers of the restaurant as it’s part of the Pachamama Group, the team that established the eponymous Peruvian restaurant in Shoreditch; Zephyr, a Greek restaurant in Notting Hill, more recently Nina, an upmarket Italian in Marylebone; and Soraya, a pretty Persian restaurant in Abu Dhabi.
I dined at Bottarga on a Friday night in spring, when it was too cold to sit on its fantastic 30-seat pavement terrace. Instead, my friend and I sat on a narrow table by the window, just inside the entrance.
While the spring air hadn’t quite warmed enough for its 30-seat terrace, we happily settled into a cosy corner table inside the softly lit bistro. The candlelit L-shaped bistro felt intimate – the type of place couples in their twenties and thirties would go on a date. Yet a buzzy open kitchen, playful canvases depicting cobalt blue Trojan horses, and chilled out beach club beats kept the venue from feeling stuffy. The vibe? Think modern Mykonos meets West London.
Service is warm and chatty, and Aryana, our Greek-Cypriot server, offered a deep dive into the menu while sharing the backstory of Chef Tzoulio Loulai, an Albanian talent who honed his skills while living in Athens. I knew we were in good hands.
The menu is neatly divided into bread, veggie, fish and meat dishes, all made for sharing – just like in a Greek grandmother’s kitchen. For drinks, we kicked things off with a Negroily, a cheeky twist on a Negroni, mixed with a splash of olive oil, naturally. We also tried the Pisco Sour, named after a Peruvian surf spot – a nod to Pachamama Group’s origins. Plus, a Passionfruit & Vanilla Martini crowned with egg white foam that wasn’t too sweet. At £12 each, the cocktails were affordable, although that’s probably because the glasses were half the expected size. This is a post-COVID, post-Brexit, cost-of-living crisis London, after all.
From there, the hits kept coming. We got going by dunking grilled sourdough drizzled in olive oil into the Spicy Feta dip with whipped red pepper, and sampling Grilled Artichokes dusted in black truffle shavings. The utterly addictive Saganaki Tapioca Bites, rolled in sesame seeds and thyme honey, were so gooey, I was convinced they were mozzarella.
But it was the fish dishes that really sparkled like the Aegean Sea. I wanted to kiss all my fingertips like an appreciative Italian when I tried the Yellowtail slicked with citrusy yuzu juice, while the slivers of Bottarga Sea Bass in lemon dressing and shaved bottarga – salted fish roe – left me wanting more.
We almost skipped the Bottarga Orzo. Fortunately, Aryana persuaded us to order the a rich, paella-style dish that paired beautifully with grilled prawns dusted in almonds.
Even though we were feeling full, there was no way we were going to skip dessert after we’d spotted a few on neighbouring tables. So, we ordered pots of tea and a creamy, dense slab of Chocolate Burnt Cheesecake that was roughly the size of a designer wedge heel and just as decadent. Our waiter theatrically drenched it in salted caramel chocolate sauce poured from a silver gravy dish high in the air. Sprinkled with Maldon salt, my arm-length caramel tart didn’t exactly disappoint – in fact, it was so long, we had to rearrange the plates on our table to accommodate it.
The staff gave us 10 minutes’ notice that they needed the table back for another booking, so rather than speed eat the rich, salty, bittersweet cheesecake doorstop, we ended up boxing half to enjoy later. Yes, it was that big!
As we strolled toward the station, bellies full and spirits lifted, we couldn’t help but reflect: Bottarga may trade in small plates, but the flavours – and portions – are anything but.
Go: Visit www.bottarga.london for more information.