Rogues is the kind of London restaurant I’ve been looking for, for quite some time. On booking there were so many preconceptions stacked against it: small plates in Bethnal Green from a popular pop-up that became a restaurant – which of course is going to mean too-cool-for-school hipsters offering begrudging, dismissive service to any Millennial or older; an all-natural list of cow-fart cloudy wines; a shoestring setting where any form of comfort is jettisoned for bare wood and concrete; and, of course, attention-seeking dishes cooked by hobbyist chefs that never deliver on their on-paper promise.
And yet, the reality of Rogues was not a single one of those things. In many ways, the restaurant is actually anti-trend. While everyone else is trying to do an over-thought, over-priced, undersized-sized version of Zédel or fill yet another table-clothed room with equal ratios of chefs to global gastro-tourists, Rogues is just making really nice food in a pleasant, warm setting served by real, friendly people at prices the general public can afford.
The location is halfway between London Fields and Bethnal Green just by Cambridge Heath station. Not the most accessible part of London but with pricing that reflects what is likely to be lower rent, it’s far from a painful schlep. The menu comprises eight savoury dishes from £8-24 and two snacks (at £3 and £4). Those marked with an asterisk are included in a £58pp set menu option which, at inspection, was everything but two dishes.
Potato rosti, topped with prawn, apple and spring onion was half prawn-toast, half fish and chips, and as enjoyable as both – especially with lots of crunchy toasted buckwheat subbing for sesame seeds. Maldon oyster with sesame, soy and kombu had a beautiful firm and puffy texture and an intensely savoury topping that built on the iodine main ingredient. I love that these little bites were both innovative and delicious within the fame of recognisable, accessible combinations.
I’ve been put off chalk stream trout lately by a consistently muddy taste (which I assume comes from the flowing water of the Test only accommodating so many trout, and ponds having to do more heavy lifting as the business exponentially grows), but ‘cured sea trout, blood orange and sour crème’ didn’t suffer even a hint of that issue. Lovely big chunks of trout lightly cured, lots of different citrus fruit segments with their flavour and freshness balanced and intact, mounds of super-lactic crème cru, some dried sorrel leaves, dots of trout roe, and a few pieces of pickled cucumber made for a classic set of flavours presented in such a satisfying way.
Just as we got started on the trout a whole round loaf of potato and thyme sourdough with Bovril butter and pickled walnut arrived fresh from the oven. The crust was wafer-fine with a lovely snap, the crumb oily and stretched yet also cloud-soft and delicate, a great waft of steam going up when we opened it, and little dots of gooey potato distributed throughout. The butter and puréed walnut were just savoury enough yet also rich and satisfying. A sensational bread course, and yes, the staff provided a second one later without even asking.
I really liked the way this menu was delivered. The trout and the bread made sense together and meant we had just enough food on the table to not be overcrowded, but not so little as to pointlessly drag the meal out to a million courses of unsatisfying chef worship.
Next to arrive was a wonderfully cooked cod’s collar (‘day boat fish with monk’s beard and katsu sauce’), the skin crisp, the flesh juicy yet flaking from the cartilage with little to no effort. The fatty, gelatinous feel was cut with an unctuous, sweet and sour katsu curry sauce and tendrils of monk’s beard, but it was the bowl of almond hummus and cucumber, carrot and lettuce ‘crudités’ that really freshened up this two-dish serving. The vegetables were uniquely crunchy yet still so fresh having (I think) been perked up in ice water.
More ice water trickery seemed to have been perpetrated on the vividly pink, super crisp radicchio that buried a sliced Duroc pork chop resting in a beer butter sauce – the whole dish being such a clever play on bitter, fresh and fat yet also indulgent and satisfying to eat. Alongside it – this being the main course – was a bowl of veg: perfectly cooked asparagus and sprouting broccoli with a nice savoury and sour punch from an XO butter sauce and preserved lemon.
Two great puddings were served simultaneously. A little glass ramekin of chewy, creamy sorbet and a nice big trifle of rhubarb – jelly and fruit – all flavoured with magnolia flower, white chocolate custard, tonnes of pistachios and a topping of whipped cream and puffed rice. Indulgent yet not overly heavy or overthought.
We were served by three staff members who shocked me more than the food in just how good they were. I’ve rarely had such interested yet natural service. There was almost a tone of gratitude that that we were there at all, yet it never even hinted at tipping over into the subservience that’s often pervasive in more ambitious restaurants. Chat was incredibly well measured yet never seemed overthought or awkward.
The room is comfortably underdressed while also being smart and neat. Comfy banquets at varnished wooden tables, wood chairs with a nice puffy seat, neatly laid wood floors and thick cream drapes separating sections of the room along with tonnes of green foliage. Tables are close but not close enough that you’d care, and the loos are really nicely decorated and well kept. It's decor you don't think about for the right reasons.
Wine was just right. Both red and white lists are split into simple headings of ‘light’, ‘medium’ and ‘full’ relating to body, with pricing from £37 to £80 across a compact selection of 42 wines including sections for orange, fizz and rosé. Markups are very fair: £51 for the 2019 old vine Chiroubles Beaujolais is such a good deal, and they even have some Tapon Bordeaux for under £80 (a very rare sight). There’s a generous by-the-glass selection on chalkboards around the room starting at £7. Like the menu, it changes virtually daily. Cocktails were all £12 and whisky seems to be taken seriously with short lists for both bourbon and Scotland.
There is no question Rogues is an exceptional place to eat. Not in the sense it’s fancy, curated and serving small portions of tweezered food at prices few of us can realistically afford, but because it’s serving incredibly delicious food generously; food that’s innovative yet rooted in seasons and tradition at a great price; food that’s delivered in a buzzy, comfy room with no airs and graces, by staff who are genuine, warm and efficient. I intend to visit a lot and will recommend it widely.
