The Clove Club means different things to different people. Opened in 2013, it quickly became proof that Michelin star restaurants weren’t all resigned to a Mayfair or Chelsea postcode (Clove Club’s first star came in 2014, their second in 2022). To others, it was the final boss in Shoreditch’s decades-long journey to gentrification, and confirmation that rent in east London would never be affordable ever again.
What you’ll find a decade or so later is a place that wears its numerous accolades lightly, with none of the bluff and bluster of other highfalutin establishments. First, there’s the restaurant itself, tucked into a couple of demure, high-ceilinged rooms in the old Shoreditch Town Hall. Built in a time when municipal spaces were created with as much pride as a Hampstead mansion, this Grade II listed building boasts elegantly turned ceiling roses, parquet floors and big, airy windows, as well as one of the most memorable restrooms in London (an ornate Victorian loo that’s anything but bog-standard). It is nice without being flashy, cosy without being cramped.
A soft nugget of pine-salt dusted buttermilk fried chicken is served in a leafy wreath, like some kind of pagan KFC
Longstanding master of ceremonies is Isaac McHale, Clove Club’s Orkney-born chef-patron, who seems to have Forrest Gump-ed himself into the kitchen of every brilliant restaurant of the past 20 years. He started at Glasgow’s Stravaigin, before a five-year stint at The Ledbury and a stage at Noma (naturally), before opening the ever-reliable Elliot’s in Borough Market (Luca, his acclaimed ‘Britalian’ restaurant in Clerkenwell, came later, in 2016). The Clove Club sees him fusing ideas from each, with a vast, multi-course tasting menu (our lunch lasts a heroic three-and-a-half hours) spanning the tastiest, prettiest and most seasonal stuff from across the British Isles.
The meal began, as all semi-medieval feasts should, with a ceramic cauldron of glowing green broth. This hearty herbal concoction was the first of five ‘snacks’ offered up before the main tasting menu of 12 dishes started in earnest. Each amuse bouche was as inventive and pleasingly savoury as the last, including a dish that’s been on the Clove Club menu since day one; a soft nugget of pine-salt dusted buttermilk fried chicken served in a leafy wreath like some kind of pagan KFC. A truly iconic mouthful.
Bashing out more hits than ABBA, the tasting menu is furiously fish-heavy. There’s slivers of raw orkney scallop in a puddle of none-more-goth black dashi; picture perfect sardine sashimi with tangy, ginger and chrysanthemum soy and a chaser of creamy bone broth on the side; hunks of Scottish blue shell lobster swimming in a bubbling sunset of the badboy bernaise that is choron sauce and yuzu gel; a tender mini-slab of grilled tuna belly cut through with a slash of chard and marjoram sauce. All aim for the upper-echelons of culinary wizardry, and all are bang on target.
The Clove Club might be light on theatrical touches, but the tableside mixing of fulsome duck and ginger consommé with a glass of 1912 madeira is worthy of an Olivier, or, at the very least, a couple of long-stemmed red roses thrown graciously at the sommelier. There’s some well-received flamboyance with dessert, too; a habanero granita is strange alchemy indeed, a blissful chilli heat sinisterly thrumming from a colourless ice mound. A warm potato mousse is also deeply weird but addictively good; basically mashed potato after a rice-pudding style glow-up.
No, it’s not cheap – £195 for the full tasting menu, and £155 for a shorter version – but The Clove Club isn’t just one of London’s finest restaurants – it’s one of the world’s very best.
The vibe Fine dining without the faff; easy-going elegance is The Clove Club’s thing.
The food A double Michelin star-winning tasting menu that focuses on British ingredients, with lots of finessed fish. A vegetarian option is available.
The drink There’s a wine pairing to go alongside the tasting menu, and non drinkers can opt for tea pairing (think oolong and sobacha, rather than PG Tips and Barry’s)
Time Out tip If you really want to savour your experience, then go for the shorter tasting menu so as to lessen your chances of becoming delirious by the final few courses.