Wed 6pm–11pm, Thu 6pm–midnight, Fri–Sat 6pm–1am, Sun–Tue closed
Last Wednesday, I joined a Mexican-inspired ‘Kitchen Supper’ at The Little Yellow Door, thrown weekly in honour of the arrival of their new ‘flatmate’, Alejandro de Muntoyo Suza Jesus. Having previously visited this popular pop-up—based on the idea of a set of fictional flatmates throwing dinner parties—on a Friday, when a French flatmate was in town, I was interested to see that Wednesdays are a slightly different affair. Rather than sharing a table and platters of food, we were shown to a private wrought iron table and chairs towards the back of the flat decorated with a white picket fence running along the walls, astroturf on the floor and lots of potted plants. It was great to be in among everyone tucking into Latin American dishes and colourful cocktails, while still able to enjoy the chance to catch up.
Our host, Damien, quickly came over to introduce himself and made no delay in rustling up two different but equally delicious cocktails. It is so often the case with pop-ups that portion sizes can be somewhat restrained, however this is certainly not an issue here. Our pleasingly boozy drinks were served in goblet-sized glasses and were soon accompanied by a large wooden chopping board topped with two generous starters. The first included slices of cheesy cornbread with queso fresco, chorizo, roasted red peppers and tomatillo salsa, and the second featured a smear of butternut squash puree, topped with slices of salt-cured beef and crunchy peanuts.
Both were beautifully presented and I’m hard pressed to make a call between the two. The corn bread was amazingly light and crumbly, just as it should be, and the tangy queso fresco beneath was laced with nuggets of jalapeño, a delight for the spice enthusiasts tucking in. The other half of the board was completely different, but equally delicious. The fillet was tender, but full of flavour and balanced well with the smoky, rich squash.
The bar serves a wide array of cocktails and drinks, and with the arrival of our main courses, we opted for a light, summery red at a reasonable £23. It’s at this stage, however, that some negatives crept in. A burrito each and a plate of nachos really disappointed. Dating a Mexican for the last two years, I’m keenly aware of the fresh and complex recipes from all over the country; recipes not in any way emulated by the Tex-Mex versions with which we were presented.
The crowd at TLYD was as it had been on my previous visit—smartly dressed, multi-lingual and distinctly west London. Everyone was enjoying the relaxed, homely surroundings of the flat, which is furnished with mismatched sofas and chairs and various hints of domesticity: shoes left discarded by the door, family photos on the mantelpiece, and a toothbrush and toothpaste in the loos.
This is definitely somewhere to come to either as a group to take over the beautifully decorated ‘tree house’ at the back or, as the ‘flatmates’ say, to come with three friends and leave with 10. Such was the friendly and intimate vibe that I feel I ought to be writing a thank you letter addressed to the flatmates, rather than a review.
