Restaurant review: Aqua Kyoto, London

Having once nearly missed a flight from Chek Lap Kok after giving into an Aqua martini too many, I was looking forward to visiting the Hong Kong-based chain’s first European outpost on London’s Regent Street. I have fond memories of long, boozy evenings high up above Victoria Harbour, of fabulous cocktails, and even more glamorous views. What I don’t remember is the food, which seemed to me at the time to play a distinctly second fiddle to the liquid creations on offer – possibly we just got a few platters of nibbles, or maybe we even bypassed the menu altogether and grabbed some steaming noodles from a street stall on the way home.

 

Back in the more sober climate of 2009, stepping off noisy Argyll Street into a discreet doorway inhabited by a smartly dressed chap in black, it seemed as if Aqua London was following the same merry, pre-crunch model of its Kowloon counterpart. Crushed red velvet drapes and dim lighting gave the lift lobby the air of a slightly louche nightclub, and the front desk, once we arrived at the restaurant proper, only reinforced that impression, being both inconveniently dark, and staffed entirely by tall, aesthetically pleasing young women.

 

Given my happy memories of drinks past, we decided to start at Aqua Spirit, a small, plushly upholstered bar in front of the Japanese restaurant (the enormous, 300-seat operation also includes a separate Spanish dining room, Aqua Nueva, complete with tapas bar). The drinks list, although shorter than I remembered, was just as interesting, and made good use of both Spanish and Japanese ingredients in homage to both the kitchens on this sizeable site.

 

I went for the fresh-tasting Aqua Kyoto with sake, sherry and gin, which came in a dinky little earthenware sake jug, accompanied by a miniature hors d’oeuvre of Menorcan cheese, grape and quince jelly, while Ian, attracted by the idea of bacon-flavoured vodka, ordered the Nueva Sour with Japanese whiskey. Both were excellent and, at about £10 each, not unfairly priced for the location. Aqua boats two outdoor terraces with stunning views over the London skyline, and a latish licence (last orders 1am), so, with a menu like this, I could certainly see myself coming back for a couple of drinks when the weather perks up a bit. As it is, however, the bar area doesn’t offer much in the way of seating – two or three booths and a few seats at the bar itself – which suggests that here they’re keen to encourage punters to eat as well.

 

We’d arrived early to sample the cocktails before sitting down, but as it turned out, we needn’t have bothered – our table, in the gaudily decorated Kyoto (complete with obligatory oversized Japanese lantern) was half an hour late. Service, although friendly, was slow – with a largely full restaurant, they badly need more staff to prevent slip-ups like wine arriving after most of the starters.

 

Although succinct, the menu ranges widely, from salads to hot pots to grills, as well as three pages of the sushi and sashimi created at the central bar. With only so much space available, we decided to go easy on the latter, ordering just the intriguingly named Black Pearl sushi roll, which, when it arrived, resembled nothing more than an oriental Scotch egg, being a sphere of rice with a core of sweetly pink fatty tuna, coated with jet black flying fish roe. Unusual, and delicious, although I felt, a little light on the fish, even at £6.50. Seared beef tataki with ponzu was well executed, if ever-so-slightly marred by some rather acrid garlic crisps on top, and the spinach rolls with sesame sauce were a great idea let down by under-seasoning – the punchy nutty sauce needed some balancing salt or acidity to spar with.

 

Braised octopus with taro and pumpkin came with a wonderfully savoury sauce, although the cephalopod itself was still slightly rubbery, but a pot of braised iberico pork cheeks with tomato and miso was faultless – unctuous and deeply savoury, although, with its potato stew, almost more at home next door in Aqua Nueva. No matter, it was excellent. Puddings, generally not the Japanese’s restaurant’s strong point, were an absolute delight; I had a trio of ices, delicate green tea, nutty black sesame and zingy, palate-cleansing ponzu, and Ian went for a chocolate fondant which also came with a helping of the searingly citric ponzu sorbet to cut through the gooey sweetness and send us both out into the night in good spirits.