An American outpost in London with an expansive take on California cooking.
Victor Garvey is obviously a highly talented chef. In 2017 he opened Rambla at 64 Dean Street in London’s Soho, a corner site that captured the atmosphere of Barcelona extremely well, but then closed it in late 2018. He then opened SOLA in 2019 on the same site.
Earlier this year the place closed for a major refurbishment, revealed for the first time a couple of months ago. According to the website, SOLA still claims to serve the food of sunny California and the Pacific Northwest of the US and to offer a largely North American wine list.
It is extremely smart, as befits the recipient of a Michelin star. It takes full advantage of the many large windows which grace two sides of the restaurant, letting lots of sunshine into a predominantly white and light-wood interior. The all-male waiting staff are smartly dressed in light-brown suits, white shirts and ties – in complete contrast to every other restaurant in the neighbourhood, where it is invariably a challenge to distinguish the casually dressed waiting staff from the casually dressed customers. Here, this is definitely not the case.
There was initially the threat of a clash between the maître d’ and me over exactly where my bag should go. He wanted it out of the main part of the restaurant. I wanted it with me and under the table (it contains my medical stuff). Happily, I won and it fitted under the table at the far end of the restaurant completely out of sight from anyone else. The table allowed me a good view of the kitchen, which was quiet and efficient, as in so many professional kitchens, but differed in one way: here the kitchen porter is female.
I sat down and greeted my host whom I had never met before, an American who has lived in the UK for the past 16 years and for whom eating out in restaurants is one of life’s great pleasures. We got to know each other before we were interrupted by a waiter keen to know what we would like to eat and drink. It was time to study the menu.
The menu was standing on the table in front of us, folded up in a manner I had not seen before but one that demanded our full attention as, in the bottom right-hand corner, was an explanation that it was in fact three menus in one. The lunch menu (£59) includes three canapés from the seven listed; then one of two fish dishes, followed by a third course and then dessert. The menu described as ‘Classics’ (£139) includes both fish dishes and Miéral duck (Miéral is the last family-owned Bresse poultry company, working with traditional methods since 1919) as the main course, while the tasting menu (£229) includes the lot. A lifetime spent enjoying the reading of menus is definitely a help here. But I could not help but wonder: where in all these intricate dishes are either the flavours or techniques that would mark what I was to eat as distinctly Californian?
They were certainly not that obvious in what was billed as Act 1. These included a devilled egg – an increasingly common amuse bouche in contemporary London – topped with smoked sturgeon and gochujang, a savoury Korean red chilli paste; a roll of the belly of New Zealand King Ora salmon on a pedestal enlivened by wasabi and Roscoff onion; and a mouthful of baby back rib with apple and jasmine.
We both chose the very Japanese sounding o-toro as our next course which came with myoga (Japanese ginger) and sansho Japanese pepper. The presentation was exquisite: half a dozen small, round pieces from the belly of the bluefin tuna, each under the thinnest slice of ginger. But these were spoiled by the addition of a small amount of liquid that proved to be far too astringent for my taste.
We then decided to go different ways, I ordered turbot, something I find difficult to resist, while my host ordered the duck (pictured immediately above). The turbot came with a buttermilk chowder and salsify, the duck with Ercolini pear – the sweetest of all pears apparently – and Kalamata olives. Having watched the price of turbot rocket ever since I fell in love with it many years ago (it is currently £70, poached or grilled, at Wiltons, the legendary seafood restaurant on Jermyn St), I was not expecting it to be too big a portion. But this modest serving came with an additional challenge. As can be seen from our main image above, it was served at the bottom of a plate that appeared to replicate the moon’s surface with a flat space that accommodated the fish perfectly but what surrounded it made it extremely difficult to eat. It was also a bit difficult to enjoy the sauce of French caviar that was generously poured on top, a sauce that I would happily have mopped up with some bread had any been offered to me.
We were both excited for our dessert, key lime pie – my host because it reminded him of his childhood when it had been his favourite, mine because I invariably enjoy finishing with a sweet/acid note and also because of my own memories of my Aunt Bessie’s lemon meringue pie. SOLA’s version is excellent, the acidity of the key lime accentuated by the addition of sudachi, a small, round Japanese citrus fruit that contrasted extremely well with the sweetness of the Swiss meringue. We ended with coffee and three sweetmeats, including their version of a cannelé, a specialty of Bordeaux.
It was time for the bill, but when my host and I reached for our wallets we were greeted by a young waiter who explained that there was no bill. We were both extremely surprised. As neither of us had any cash to leave for the staff, my host went to get some from an ATM. On his return he apparently got the impression that, as our table was close to the kitchen, our conversation had been overheard and both of us were recognised, he as a regular, me as a restaurant writer. At least the review gives me the opportunity to thank the staff.
We drank Californian as there is no other choice save for champagne. A glass of Matthiasson, Linda Vista Chardonnay 2022 from Napa at £23 apiece for each of us which my host completed with a glass of Syrah 2019 from Benevolent Neglect. The list is expensive simply because these wines are expensive even before they are shipped. Back in 1985, we had the Robert Mondavi Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve 1978 on the list at L’Escargot, two streets away, at £27.50 a bottle, but the era of inexpensive California wine is, unfortunately, long gone.
And so too are my preconceptions of California cooking. In the 1980s it was a definite move against French bourgeois cuisine, with an emphasis on much shorter cooking times and on revealing the colour of the ingredients. Here the emphasis is on colour as well but the range of techniques and of ingredients is much broader, and it is certainly in extremely capable hands.
SOLA 64 Dean Street, London W1D 4QQ; tel: +44 (0)203 774 3495
Every Sunday, Nick writes about restaurants. To stay abreast of his reviews, sign up for our weekly newsletter.