Tue—Sat midday—late
Chelsea’s new Japanese-style brasserie Zinnia is housed in a former Mexican taco restaurant, but the transformation could not be more dramatic. Zinnia’s entrance opens rather grandly onto a stylish bar, which is almost the width of the building.
Extremely pleasant and accommodating staff, who know how to mix a seriously good cocktail, man the bar. Plus One had Aviation, a blend of gin, crème de violette, lemon juice and sugar (£10) and was very happy. I had a White Lady (£10), a sublime confection of gin, egg white, triple sec, lemon juice and sugar. It had a wonderfully tart, but perfectly smooth, taste to it. We ordered one of the bar nibbles, the curried edamame with salt (£5). These had a spicy kick to them but would have looked more attractive and in keeping with the elegant bar if the tips had been removed.
Zinnia can accommodate large tables of guests in the dining room behind the bar or more intimate dining à deux in the first level gallery (it also has a fairly large bar downstairs for that last nightcap on the way home). The very attentive and vivacious manager, Eva, showed us to our table in the area behind the bar, where a lively and convivial crowd seemed to be enjoying a relaxed supper. We were seated at a table to the side of the room and under the eaves of the building’s sloping roof, which felt a little cramped and lugubrious.
However, the skilful, light food more than compensated for the less than perfect position of the table. We started with the chef’s platter of sushi, nigiri and sashimi (£30), which comprised salmon with beetroot and pickled ginger maki, cucumber and walnut miso maki and prawns in a Marie-Rose sauce, all of which were felicitous combinations of interesting yet delicate flavours. We followed this with a portion of pork belly with apple, beetroot and spinach purée (£19). The pork belly must have been cooked very slowly with just the right number of spices, as it positively lifted from the plate. It was rich, tender and beautifully seasoned.
We chose an Austrian Gruner Veitliner 2003 wine (£56), which proved the perfect accompaniment to the carefully flavoured food. It had hints of pear with a playful pepperiness on the nose.
Could we possibly have had room for any dessert? Not really, but Eva insisted on our trying the Bento box of desserts (£16), which comprised a selection of coconut mousse with mango sorbet, Yuzu and raspberry posset and—my favourite—Japanese rice pudding with rhubarb.
This is simply a delightful restaurant that plays host to a very mixed, lively and elegant crowd—there was even a little ones’ party going on, quite unobtrusively, at the front of the restaurant.
