Cloth Review - Farringdon - London - The Infatuation
"The European small plates at Cloth are very good, but the best thing about this charming Farringdon restaurant is the experience of eating here. It feels like being inside a very rich person’s house during a power outage. Candlelight flickers against antique-looking paintings of horses and pheasants, bottles of riesling are broken out, and you get the sense that a well-stocked pantry has been raided for snacks—tasty, cold asparagus salad, hunks of bread with salted butter, croquettes with apple mustard. photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch A storm could be raging and wheelie bins flying in the air outside the Grade II-listed building, and you’d never know. That’s how successful the cocooning effect is at this low-ceilinged, wood-panelled bolthole. If it weren’t for the sheer volume of oversized, frilly, gingham scrunchies on display, you’d feel like you were an eligible singleton in a Jane Austen novel. It’s the perfect date night spot for your own wet shirt Mr Darcy meet cute, or to prove to your parents that you’re a sophisticated adult—although they may need a phone torch to read the menu. photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch Cloth sticks to the tried and true small plates formula of mozzarella with lovely bits—sometimes soft, sweet white peach and other times crispy artichokes—and dainty portions of cappelletti, plus obligatory tropea onions. While it isn’t inventive, it feels very special. Food Rundown photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch Pig’s Head Croquette, Apricot Ketchup A croquette is a croquette, surely. No. This pig’s head one is built differently. The crispy outer layer is so thin that we pressed down too hard on the first one and fired it across the table. It’s crunchy but delicate, and the pig’s cheek falls apart in the best way. The apricot ketchup brings some nice sweetness and is satisfyingly thick and smearable. photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch Chips With Espelette Pepper You might read this menu item and think, “Is nothing sacred in a small plates restaurant? Can’t a chip just be a chip without dressing it up in a Patagonia sweater and Birkies?”. But the espelette pepper is actually a sweet, spicy dusting that improves and doesn’t overpower the chips. The chips themselves are crispy and fluffy, and essential for the monkfish dish below. photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch Roast Monkfish, Prawn And Ginger Bisque If you only get one dish, make it this meaty monkfish which is nearly overshadowed by the scene-stealing support act—the bisque. It’s equal parts smoky, sweet, and tomatoey, and we spent a large portion of our evening here chasing the ginger bisque down with our chips. photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch Cappelletti Of Ricotta With Pecorino, Sarawak Pepper This cappelletti dish was OK but we wouldn’t order it again as the flavours were a little washed out." - Sinéad Cranna
