Review: Jan in Clapham

Name: Review: Jan in Clapham
Item: Jan in Clapham
Author: Sophie Farrah

Due to open last summer, Jan has faced a series of setbacks - but as the saying goes, some things are worth waiting for. Sophie Farrah eats like a (Caspian) King in Clapham…

Standing proudly on a corner of the buzzing Northcote Road with its azure blue mosaic tiles and glitzy gold signage, modern Middle Eastern restaurant Jan is immediately impressive.

Inside the opulent décor continues, and it’s obvious no expense has been spared. In the middle of the space is a striking turquoise blue and gold bar and at the back an open charcoal kitchen, so that you can watch the chefs at work. Decadent marble and dark woods feature under a distressed gold-mirrored ceiling, whilst the walls are hung with vast portraits of imposing former Caspian rulers, each with their own story to tell (our charming waiter gave us the goss on each one). Yes it is somewhat gimmicky, but it is fun, effective and oh-so-stylishly executed. On a wet winter’s evening I feel as though I have been transported back to an ancient, lavish Ottoman Empire – I just hope that the food is similarly impressive.

Arabica Martin

Offering ‘Caspian flavours’ and taking influence from the likes of Iran and Turkey, the menu is promising and feels authentic but modern; fashionable foodie ingredients such as sumac, tahini and pomegranate molasses all float off the page and get my mouth watering and intrigue spiked. For drinks there is an exciting cocktail (and mocktail) menu filled with originality and obscure ingredients, an interesting selection of handpicked wines from the likes of Hungary, Macedonia and Italy, plus craft beers from Walthamstow, for those who prefer hops.

I start with an Arabica Martini; Jan’s take on an espresso martini made from Cariel vanilla vodka, Lebanese arak (an anise-flavoured spirit), Borghetti coffee liqueur, and spiced espresso. The delicious intensity of the coffee combined with the sweetness of the vanilla vodka was good enough, but the added dimensions of spice and strong aniseed flavours gave it a divine taste of the exotic.

After such a strong opener the starters weren’t quite as groundbreaking; the freshly cooked za’atar spiced flat bread was wonderfully warm and fluffy with a deliciously salty crisp top, but the courgette humus was surprisingly bland, as were the baba ganoush and pickled walnut rolls.

Boneless sea bream with harissa, preserved lemon, red onion and barberry salad.jpg

Boneless harissa sea bream

Thankfully though, impressive play resumed and the mains were back to Arabica Martini-standard. The generous portion of boneless harissa sea bream was flavoursome and beautifully cooked, served with a fresh and tasty onion and barberry salad to cut through the delightful spice. The charred miso and tahini spiced cauliflower is a dish that I would go back for again and again; served with healthy cauliflower cous cous, aubergine, flaked almonds and crispy onion rings it was packed with tasty textures and fabulous flavours. The miso dressing, although somewhat out of place on the Caspian menu, mixed with the smokiness of the charcoal grill was a truly delicious combination.

On the side we enjoyed a fattoush salad which was fresh, crisp and deliciously spiced with no shortage of crispy croutons (my kind of salad), as well as a creamy and flavoursome whole roast aubergine with spiced yoghurt, lemon, saganaki cheese, cumin and sesame.

Lemon cake & rosemary pears Lemon cake, warm poached pears topped with crème fraiche, pistachios and vanilla salt.jpg

Lemon cake with poached pears

By this point I imagined that I would not have room for dessert; but the main courses were so fresh and deliciously light, and I had already heard good things about the lemon cake, so we plumped for the harissa ice cream served with apricot and saffron, which the waiter informed us was their ‘Marmite’ dish. The creaminess of the ice cream and the sweetness of the saffron syrup combined with the spicy heat of the harissa was sublime.

And the lemon cake? Oh, the lemon cake. Having been ever so gently warmed on the charcoal grill, just the smell of it was enough to make me weak at the knees. Served with warm poached pears, crème fraiche, plenty of pistachios and – the pièce de résistance – a sprinkling of vanilla salt on top. They really did save the best till last.

We left feeling as satisfied and spoiled as Ottoman Kings; for opulent style as well as delicious substance, head to Jan.