There is something fabulous about being British. Something about the license to always cook a roast on Sundays. To always, always queue. To put a fruit salad into Pimms in the summer, to warm it in the microwave in winter, and to do the same with cider. To make a sauce out of bread. Something fabulous about the cyclic routine of going to the pub in the evenings, old blokes sitting stationary and wordless, nursing Black Sheep ales. Always saying sorry, even when it’s not our fault. Actually listening when the government tells us not to smoke inside, though our closest neighbours simply scoffed. Obviously the French. Hanging bunting in the summer, putting on shorts in April’s chill. Socks and sandals, mint sauce on lamb, apple sauce on pork, brown sauce on entirely too many things. Gravy and pies. Gooseberries and quince. In control of our emotions, dignified, outwardly a little prudish, in reality far less than the Americans. Stuttering and flapping about Hugh Grantishly, eating our fish and chips and loving, just loving our tea. Shit at Eurovision. Or rather, railroaded. Keeping calm, carrying on. Utterly fabulous, quintessentially British.
All of these things are tangible, simmering in the air upon entry to Bistro Union, South Clapham. The décor is gruff, no nonsense, brave. The specials menu is a brown butchers paper roll hanging on the wall with tasty sounding morsels scribbled on in black marker, ripped off and re-scrawled each day. The dining room is a study in mismatching lighting; low slung brass lamps in assorted shapes over the bar, Ikea-esque plastic blue ones poking out of the walls, jazzy stark bulbs elsewhere. The menus are old school notebooks and the waiters all sport dangling braces and casual attitudes. It is all cool, very cool.
The menu itself? Why, quintessentially British of course! Unashamedly simple; bold flavours, served in manly, no-fuss portions. A large selection on ‘snacks’ – sort of like British Tapas, though don’t let management hear you call it that…..let’s dub it gourmet bar snacks – and a full bistro menu, plus afternoon tea. If it were overpriced, you would call it pretentious. As it is, reasonably (if cheaply) priced, it is simply honest.
The food? Very good. I tried a large assortment of the bar snacks. Pork Scratchings, ruler straight, tall and crunchy, porky and salty, served in a beer mug with a sharp apple dipping jam. Delicious – my favourite dish of the evening – and a steal at 2 pounds a mug!
The food? Very good. I tried a large assortment of the bar snacks. Pork Scratchings, ruler straight, tall and crunchy, porky and salty, served in a beer mug with a sharp apple dipping jam. Delicious – my favourite dish of the evening – and a steal at 2 pounds a mug!
Radish and Smoked Cod’s Roe – innovative in its starkness. Simple produce, barely dressed up and tasty. Smoky, fishy, sweet and sharp with the radish. Chef informed us that we could even eat the radish greens – a revelation, peppery and pleasantly bitter. Like grown up rocket.
A smooth chicken liver pate with a blackberry jelly on top, thankfully replacing the unappetising butter seal normally used.
Braised squid, lobster broth and white beans – tender and lobster rich. Not my thing – oh how I wish I could warm to lobster bisque. It’s such a delicacy, I don’t know why I just can’t like it! – but something I could appreciate. The only thing I didn’t LOVE was their pickled quail eggs. Slightly ghastly in appearance; grey/green and sort of shrunken headish, like mummified eyeballs. No better in taste – too much pickle, too little egg – and I’d loved to have seen molten yolks.
Mussels cooked in Perry – delicious and sweet, so sweet thanks to the Perry complimenting their natural plump sugars. I’m going to start cooking mine at home with Perry, it really worked. They were about 30 seconds under on the cooking which was unusual, and certainly preferable to the alternative. Some of the mussels were not fully opened and some of the ones that were open still had their occupant clinging, gelatinously to their shells, proteins and cells not fully steamed apart from their bindings.
A cold cut of rare roasted sirloin too, with horseradish. Yummy and butch. The horseradish could have been more manly; it was a little weak and over creamed, white as printer paper. I would have liked to have seen fresh horseradish instead, it would have worked much better.
A beautiful toad in the hole, vast and served in a cast iron pan straight from the oven and accompanied with a pewter jug of gravy. Tasty and certainly not pint sized. Rotisserie Chicken to share, served upright on a pike, self-carved and with pigs in blankets and bread sauce.
Bistro Union represents something great, something unique to our little isle. Quintessential British; realness and honesty. Pride in simplicity and integrity of food. I refrain from comparing it to canteen food because it is not, it is better than that though I am sure that the managers would welcome the comparison in some senses. High end canteen food, plated, is not quite right but it certainly captures a portion of Bistro Union’s essence. In my opinion it is most spectacular in its Brit Tapas, whoops I meant ‘bar snacks’. They really are great and, at from 2-6 pounds per plate, more than a moderate bargain. I will go to Bistro Union repeatedly and often for carafes of wine and these small plates of moreish, British grub.
http://www.bistrounion.co.uk/
40 Abbeville Road Clapham, London SW4 9NG
020 7042 6400
Rating
Overall:
Food: 3.75/5
Wine List: 3.5/5
Venue: 4/5
Atmosphere: 4/5
Cost: 30 GBP a head, including wine
http://www.bistrounion.co.uk/
40 Abbeville Road Clapham, London SW4 9NG
020 7042 6400
Rating
Overall:
Food: 3.75/5
Wine List: 3.5/5
Venue: 4/5
Atmosphere: 4/5
Cost: 30 GBP a head, including wine
