José Pizarro restaurant review: a taste of Spain for the City set

A sunny afternoon at José Pizarro’s new all-day tapas joint barely feels like being London at all, says Richard Godwin, but he can't see himself making a special trip to eat there again
Top tapas: José Pizarro has opened a new outlet in Broadgate Circle (Picture: Daniel Hambury/Stella Pictures Ltd)
Daniel Hambury
Richard Godwin27 May 2015

London has never been much of an outdoorsy city. At some point, our creators looked at the skies and decided we could do without the piazzas of Rome or the pavement cafés of Paris. The word we use to describe eating in the open air is one of our most conspicuous borrowings — alfresco — and the fact that it rhymes with Tesco seems appropriate, as if opening a packet of supermarket picnic eggs on a park bench is about the level of our ambition.

In fact, it’s only recently that the creators of the new London have challenged this. It was arguably the Canary Wharf Slug & Lettuce that set the trend — and now it’s common practice for developers to offset their glass and steel with a parasol-shaded/heater-warmed pinot grigio zone, where office workers can loosen their ties and restaurateurs can lengthen their chains. Some of them (St Mary Axe plaza, Granary Square, Kingly Court) have become quite “dynamic” in their “food and drink offerings” (to use the developers’ terminology), with the obvious chains avoided and food trucks bussed in to lend a little authenticity.

Now, with the new “dining hub” at Broadgate Circle, the trend may have reached its apotheosis. At the heart of a desolate expanse of financial architecture to the west of Liverpool Street you will now find 11 outlets arranged in a “modern amphitheatre setting”. To sit under the awning of José Pizarro’s new all-day tapas joint there on a sunny afternoon is to watch a new London taking shape, one that barely feels like London at all. After a glass or two of amontillado, you risk turning into one of those generic people that architects photoshop into CGIs to make them look more lifelike.

Still, there are worse ways to spend an afternoon than catching up with old friends over exquisitely cooked croquetas. Pizarro is the likeable chef from Extremadura via Bermondsey, whose two restaurants on Bermondsey Street — a hole-in-the-wall sherry bar called José and a more formal option called Pizarro — have brought a heady fig of jamon iberico to SE1.

Spanish delights: pork presa (Picture by Daniel Hambury/Stella Pictures Ltd)
Daniel Hambury / Stella Pictures

Looking around, most of his new neighbours at Broadgate (sounds like a prison, doesn’t it?) have made their reputations in a more soulful postcode too: Franco Manca, the exemplary sourdough pizza place from Brixton Market; The Botanist from Chelsea; Tonkotsu Ramen from Soho, etc.

It’s a bit like seeing admired indie actors advertising broadband. Then again, maybe these are the sorts of contracts a prudent restaurateur has to sign. Recently, the Hispanophile restaurateurs Sam and Eddie Hart, who do something similar to Pizarro, announced the closure of much loved Fino, citing “changing trends”; admiration alone does not pay the bills.

Pizarro, in many respects, manages the transition well. The delightful all-Spanish wine list survives more or less intact, with five of those gorgeous floral Spanish whites available by the glass and a good run of sherry too. The all-day menu takes in breakfast (including a Full Spanish, centred on the exemplary morcilla sausage) and includes larger plates such as roast turbot (£28) for those not in the mood to share. We, however, were — and went straight for the tapas.

Tentacles of octopus, charred and slivered, were almost bacon-like in their combination of crisp, fat and paprika smoke (£10). Droolsome chicken livers were moistened with a little sherry vinegar and cut with caperberries and cornichons (£7). Pizarro is clearly down with his lettuce trends, as his little gem came seared and served with blue cheese and anchovy (£8). The crucial croquetas change daily — five crisp balls gave way to delicate crab flesh and saffron (£6.50). Asparagus came with sheep’s cheese, duck egg and romesco, that divine sauce of red pepper and nuts. The waiter instructed us to “mix all that one together” (£7.50).

It was actually the mixing it all together that didn’t quite work. The waiter warned us that the food would come out whenever it was ready; this turned out to mean “all at once”, save a board of Iberico charcuterie (£19.50), which I imagined we’d nibble first and actually arrived last. If we weren’t such dutiful gluttons, it would have laid perspiring in the sun. Perhaps the haste is to accommodate the business crowd but it would be nice if you could tick some sort of box to show you’re on Spanish time and would like your food in coherent Spanish order.

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By this point, we had slipped into the afternoon phase. A couple of idlers were sipping gin tonicas at a nearby table — the Spanish improvement on the G&T, served in a wine glass for full herbal aroma. We finished by sharing a chocolate and olive oil dipping pot (£6), and concluded that if we happened to work in an office nearby, the presence of all this would be a useful lunch option. As free agents, with the whole of London at our disposal, would we make a special trip here to eat? I can’t see it.

Then again, even the name Broadgate is a mirage. I had always assumed that, like Cripplegate or Bishopsgate, it was one of the original portals into the City of London. Actually, it dates back to 1983, Margaret Thatcher’s triumphant year, when the current development was built on the site of the old Broad Street station (once a handsome commuter terminus). Looking out at the concentric circles of its food hub, with their infernal hint of Dante, I wondered where this new portal is leading.

36 Broadgate Circle, EC2 (josepizarro.com). Mon-Fri, 7am-11pm, Sat, 11am-11pm. A meal for two with wine, about £80.

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