In the queue for top tapas at José

10 April 2012

Jose Pizarro is a youngish Spanish chef who trained in his native Extremadura, then in Madrid, before coming to London to work with the Eyre Brothers and then join the admirable Spanish deli Brindisa as "chef partner".

He helped set up Tapas Brindisa in Borough Market, followed by the branches in Soho and Kensington; he has also done some TV and journalism, and has published a book, Spanish Seasonal Food.

Now he has left Brindisa, after nearly seven years, to launch his own projects, beginning with this tiny tapas bar in Bermondsey. He intends to follow it up soon with a bigger restaurant in the same area, to be called Pizarro.

José Pizarro is pretty good at self-presentation, as his website suggests, and he's become an absolute favourite of foodie bloggers and tweeters, who have long rhapsodised about his dedication to seasonality, his insistence on the very best produce and on getting the simple things just right. Many proclaim he produces the most genuine Spanish food in London and his own first opening has been keenly awaited.

Which explains why last Thursday evening, in its first week, José's new venture was so rammed. It's one smallish, ground-floor room on a corner, which might comfortably accommodate a modest, not especially busy sandwich joint. Instead, there's a handsome marble bar, a hyperactive open kitchen, and some tables and chairs - and people packed in as tight as rush hour on the Piccadilly line.

There's no chance at all of sitting at a table, none of getting a stool even. We managed to squeeze up to a corner of the bar and ate there, standing, with only just room enough to lift a fork.

When Pizarro created Tierra Brindisa Soho in 2008, some complained that the reservations policy, whereby you had to book a table ahead and couldn't just drop in, was against the whole ethos of tapas. No bookings seems on the face of it a much more authentic way to go, as well as simpler for the kitchen and management if they're serving full tilt and non-stop anyway. But that lovely idea of being able to walk around and casually enjoy a few things here and another glass there doesn't work at the moment in London - two of the more obvious reasons being that, on the one hand, there just aren't enough good places yet to go round, and, on the other, we're not Spanish, are we? In fact, the crowd in José was a pretty homogenous lot - middle-class couples in their late thirties who enjoy their food and drink perhaps more than anything else these days - and as the evening wore on it started, quite inevitably, to feel more like a jolly old pub lock-in than a bar in Barcelona or Andalucia.

Given how hopelessly squished it was, the delivery from the tiny kitchen, in which six cooks were hard at work, and from the likeable bar staff, was impressively fluent and unflustered. We were soon offered a little Kilner jar of spicy, dry-cooked broad beans, good with a glass of sherry.

Pizarro has a short printed menu with everything you'd expect - Padrón peppers, boquerones, Jamón Ibérico, patatas bravas - but it's much more about being a "market restaurant", making the most of whatever looks good that day.

Red mullet, black olives, capers, orange (£8) was fantastically fresh and tasty, without any of the gaminess that fish soon acquires when tired, the fillets served with a tangily dressed, sweet-tasting little salad. Clams, fino sherry, ham (£7) was equally good, big clams in a salty liquor, perhaps a little overpoweringly meaty if you usually eat your vongole more simply. A cold spinach, goat's cheese and walnut tortilla (£4) was basically a great wodge of bright green spinach, only lightly eggy and cheesy, the walnuts providing a soft crunch. Pizarro isn't trying to make each small plate a big hit, as many places do - this food is simple, clean, not over-emphatic.

Peas, poached egg, migas and chorizo (£6) was a big dish of fresh peas with some peashoots, tumbled up with the bready bits and sausage, quite oily even before being lubricated by the egg which we were encouraged to mash up with it. Excellently fresh boquerones (£4) had been soused in a gentle, flavoursome cava vinegar. Jamon croquetas (£6) were expertly fried, crunchy on the outside, creamy inside. Oddly enough, the most memorable dish was the most basic: bread and tomato (£3) - great toasted rustic bread, spread with fresh tomato mush. It was just that but perfectly done.

There's a pretty extensive sherry selection - four finos, for example, running from Tio Pepe at £4 a glass to La Panesa Especial, Hidalgo, at £11 - and a carefully chosen all-Spanish wine list, starting at £5 a glass, £18 a bottle. You could, in theory, then, call by here for a quick pitstop and spend not very much at all. If you can get in, if you can shape up to the crush.

For some people, being so hugger-mugger is hunky-dory; for others, though, it's the pits.

Jose
104 Bermondsey Street, SE1

Create a FREE account to continue reading

eros

Registration is a free and easy way to support our journalism.

Join our community where you can: comment on stories; sign up to newsletters; enter competitions and access content on our app.

Your email address

Must be at least 6 characters, include an upper and lower case character and a number

You must be at least 18 years old to create an account

* Required fields

Already have an account? SIGN IN

By clicking Create Account you confirm that your data has been entered correctly and you have read and agree to our Terms of use , Cookie policy and Privacy policy .

This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged in