There’s been a lot of kosher action lately. Pizaza and Soyo have dispatched siblings north to Borehamwood to form a hybrid eaterie they term, online, as Pizoyo. While back in their original stomping ground, new shwarma-style bar, Yerushalmi has opened on Golders Green Road. With Pita and Sami’s opposite, NW11 residents aren’t going short of a shwarma.
For those after a more sophisticated meal, no less than two new brasserie style eateries have popped up within weeks of one another. One Ashbourne has taken over the site vacated by Café Also and Joseph’s bookstore in Temple Fortune; and in NW3, glitzy brasserie, Tish, has made a suitably grand entrance on Haverstock Hill.
With summer holidays, new school term and yom tovs left right and centre, I’ve struggled to find the time to dine out, but sneaked in a Sunday breakfast en famille at Tish.
Owner, David Levin, has borrowed the genius idea (from other cunning kosher restaurateurs) of opening on Shabbat but taking payment in advance. With costly ingredients, licence and shomer fees, it’s hard enough to make the numbers stack up for a kosher eatery. If you also then lose out on takings for the busiest nights of the week it’s nearon impossible. At least they have a chance at making it work.
After a damning review in another newspaper, expectations were low — which can only be in Tish’s favour. The only way had to be up. And it was.
Admittedly we only ate breakfast, but Mr P, the children and I thoroughly enjoyed the meal. The dining room is smart, sexy and sophisticated. Levin hasn’t scrimped on décor. Sunday morning jazz played at exactly the right level and a herd of smiling staff floated around — outnumbering guests but not getting in our faces.
All food arrived together and (mostly) hot. Challah French toast was a little lukewarm, but as we were sharing it we fussed not.
Shakshuka — spicy and served in the now obligatory straight-from-the-stove mini frying pan — was respectable enough. Mr P’s mushroom omelette was hot, fluffy and well garnished — what more can you say about an omelette? The little P’s happily slathered (parev) chocolate sauce from jugs all over their pancake stacks, and chunky seasonal fruit compote.
Coffees with non-dairy milk are never going to cut the mustard, and hot chocolate made with oat milk — they gave me a choice of non-dairy options — was oddly under sweetened. So much so, I permitted the children to add sugar — unheard of normally.
I’ll return to try a more testing meal, but breakfast on a quiet Sunday got a thumbs up.