soseki
Posted on: 3 July 2009
Soseki has always been the ‘one that gets away’. Given our love for japanese food we always found weak excuses for why the kaiseki-kappo (literally, Japanese haute cuisine in the kitchen) establishment was left unticked on our rapidly growing foodie checklist. So with summer heatwave in full swing, coolography sought respite in Soseki, nestling surprisingly in the shadow of 30 St. Mary’s Axe, both lovably and derisively recognised as the Gherkin of london’s skyline. A proponent of Omakase style dining, Soseki is a leap of faith for those both versed and unversed in the finer points of Japanese cuisine – your dining experience is entirely dependent on the seasonality of ingredients and the freshness of produce on the day. Trusting our tastebuds (and wallet) to the whims of the chef, we passed through the cloth folds demarcating the bustle of the city and an inspiring slice of Japan…
Our near comically polite waiter guided us through rustic Japanese decor, with oriental wood and ceramics galore, to sushi bar seats. Awkward dining for any party above 2, but a great way to view the sushi chef’s expert preparation up close. Raised pagodas offer a more intimate dining experience, whilst the window booths offered Gherkin views of the floor to ceiling variety, overlooking the parched city workers’ slow descent into heated inebriation. Not one to miss out on the action, we ordered a satisfyingly earthy Japanese Nikki whiskey, with the ambient heat of the day making quick work of the solitary ice cube. Finally deciding on the 13 dish strong ‘Hanashi’ set menu, we sat back, and waited patiently for the impending gustatory assault.
The first course, the Sakizuke appetiser, perked us up soon enough: grilled monkfish in a ponzu sauce served as a pedestal for a refreshingly crisp cylinder of Japanese radish and a meaty quails egg. The varied combination of flavours laid an expectant foundation for the courses to come. Mushimono, a small pot of Japanese custard with chicken, though curdly in texture proved to be an explosively rich dose of umami. Relatively heavy, the palate was gladly lightened by an accompanying Wan mono soup, a refreshing broth of tofu and mackerel – the meaty bite of fish contrasting well with the silky bite of protein.
With our expectations raised by hawkish observance of the Sushi chef’s knife skills, we found the sashimi course sadly pedestrian. The arcing ceramic boat of standard slices of salmon and yellowtail was saved only by a pair of achingly good Ama Ebi, sweet prawn explosions with every short-lived mouthful. The grilled Yakimono dish arrived in the form of duck breast, firm and slightly unyielding, paired unimpressively with enoki mushrooms and a well cooked half hand of ladyfingers.
The Agemono course was a glowing pile of nicely executed tempura – giant prawn reclining on crisp and light textures of aubergine, pepper, courgette and sweet potato. Tomezakana sunomono – a simmered dish of salmon and clams provided another refreshing seafood hit, but otherwise not a dish of particular note.
The sushi nigiri course fared better – seabass, salmon and prawn morsels still retaining the residual warmth of the itamae’s hand, and with a healthy dose of musty heat from some generously applied wasabi. The avocado and cucumber uramaki rolls sat unremarkably next to the highlight of the plate – a marinated salmon gunkan roll. Sweet, fatty and moreish flavours burst and echoed throughout the mouth, leaving us resisting the urge to order a handful more. Onward we ploughed through, to some fiery pickled ginger that was soon extinguished with a spectacularly umami packed miso soup, paving the way for dessert.
A green tea tiramisu was accompanied by a tart yuzu ice cream – pleasant enough, but by no means a fitting way to cap off the meal. Petit fours, hand made by chocolatier William Curley, finally ended the meal, coming in a colour coded trio of green tea, whiskey, and sesame spheres of truffled chocolate. The dark bitterness of the chocolate suited best the whiskied edition – mellowed and sweet with a ghostly hint of alcoholic kick.
Dishes cleared, glasses dry, and, all said and done – we were left with a slight underwhelming feeling. Perhaps we raised our expectations too high, or we fell victim to the ever present Omakase gamble, but, on this occasion at least, we felt Soseki fell slightly short on the magic promised. Enjoyable nevertheless, Soseki does indeed warrant repeat visits, and, despite its arguably exorbitant pricing, it remains a charmingly beautiful venue, with an immaculately unique dining experience.
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