‘Oh I have that same table!’ I exclaimed. In my tiny garden in East London exists the same wrought iron and oak outdoor furniture that The Joint has outside their bijou little kitchen within Brixton Village Market. Abundant in relaxed, authentic chatter and aromas of the eclectic mixture of nearby cuisines, we took our seats. The welcome from the couple of waiters present was warm and truly genuine. I immediately felt utterly comfortable despite there being no obvious signs of standard restaurant comfort.
I ordered a ‘New Fashioned’. A lighter, sweeter version of the original with the sweet elderflower lilt of St Germain replacing the usual bitters. My companion ordered a cider. I took a sip. Reminiscent of an apple pie on a summers day without the cinnamon. The menu here, despite being small, is more than perfectly formed. Every detail is perfectly attuned to good tastes.
I had sensibly only eaten carrot batons for lunch knowing I was to be dining out for the evening, boy was I glad I had made space. I greedily ordered the majority of the menu.
Wings arrived first. Dear god the wings. I don’t know what kind of witchcraft is bestowed upon this meat to render it so luscious and desperately falling off the bone I very well nearly ATE half the bones. The onion rings were the finest I’ve ever tasted, the blue cheese dip sublime and the BJ burger, although tackily named, was as unctuous as the dishes that preceded it. Drama was brought about with a steaming bowl of fries that tasted almost as chickeny as the wings, being pored over by the waitress holding aloft a half wheel of raclette fresh from the grill and scraping a steaming liquid pile of molten dairy atop our potato shards. The Korean ribs were probably the only dish I wouldn’t be in a hurry to repeat order purely because the other dishes just far exceeded it.
Given I am the human embodiment of gluttony I of course ordered a bowl of s’mores for dessert; the only dessert. Easily one of the most perfectly simple and not to be improved upon desserts that’s ever passed my lips. We paid up the bill that was scrawled onto a cheerful scrap of pink paper stuffed into an empty spam tin with a smiley face on it. I don’t know whether to thank or curse the chefs here for giving me such strong reasons to return to Brixton…
£74.80 for two including drinks & service.
Nearest tube: Brixton
87 Brixton Village Market,