Herne Hill is an area close to my heart. I grew up there so I’m obviously biased but every other week some newspaper or magazine anoints Herne Hill as one of London’s finest, and rightly so. It boasts lovely shops and cafes, several pubs, the incomparable Brockwell Park, a lido for the summer months (or winter months if you’re hard), an actual music venue in Off The Cuff, and a quality restaurant scene which has levelled up even further with the arrival of 2210 By NattyCanCook.
Who is Natty, you ask? Natty is Nathaniel Mortley, a South Londoner from birth – one of us! one of us! – and 2210 is the Jamaican restaurant he recently opened opposite Brockwell Park. Why 2210? It’s the date his grandmother passed away, the woman who inspired his love of cooking in the first place. Yes, the whole thing’s a bit of a movie.
Even if Mortley couldn’t cook – or cooked passably well– it would still be a wonderful story. Pursues a career as a chef after being stabbed at a house party aged 16. Works his way into the kitchens of Oblix and City Social. Jailed for selling drugs to other people in the industry. (Hospitality has a drug culture – who knew?)
Serving time in Brixton prison, he naturally worked at the Clink, a charity-run restaurant staffed entirely by inmates. (Mortley is now an ambassador.) It revitalised his love of cooking and on release he set up an extremely successful residence at the Greyhound pub in Peckham, the same area where he grew up. Now comes the move to Herne Hill and a restaurant he intends to win a Michelin star – no other Caribbean restaurant has one.
The man himself
The achievement feels inevitable on his current trajectory – the movie needs a climactic triumph, right? But forget narrative; the food makes an equally compelling case. For Mortley can cook. Mortley and his team cook very well indeed.
While 2210 is an immensely suave venue, the atmosphere is relaxed, friendly – more akin to eating in a friend’s front room than some stuffy haute cuisine joint. The venture is very much a family affair, with various members of the Mortley clan – including his mum – doing their part. It was only appropriate to bring my mum along, plus it made a great treat for a birthday I shan’t specify.
We both loved it. We loved the food, the vibe, the packed house on a Thursday evening; staff who seem to love their work, music that accomplishes the rare but vital trick of only being noticeable when you want to notice it. Above all, we loved its accessibility to our respective houses – a bus ride from me, literally round the corner from her. “I’d come here on my own time,” said Mum, scooping up another slice of roti.
The roti is a must. You get a plate of the stuff, fresh, warm, served with a scotch bonnet butter dip that should come with a syringe so you can mainline it directly into your veins. Mum was a big fan of the dip. She claimed her rum punch was a tad sweet – supposedly she’d never tried one before so I don’t know what she expected – but she then spent several minutes trying to scoop up the cherry with her straw. We both agreed my scotch bonnet margarita was terrific.
Jerk chicken supreme
We went classic for mains: jerk chicken supreme and Natty’s traditional oxtail, accompanied by plantain and two types of rice (peas, jollof). The chicken came with a ball of fried terrine and this incredible mango salsa. As mum noted, “the meat is spicy too, not just the skin.” A lovely dish yet the oxtail was even better, the succulent dark meat literally falling off the bone. Mum described the plantain as “sublime.” Everything was polished off down to the last pea.
Mum didn't feel up to a whole dessert so we shared the apple crumble with crème anglaise that got an approving "lovely". The wine list isn’t the world’s biggest but it gets the job done – glasses of Riesling and Cabernet sauvignon slipped down very nicely indeed. However there’s a great selection of spirits, covering everything from cognac to bourbon to even the likes of Jagermeister and peach schnapps, depending how vibey you wish the evening to become. Well, Brixton is only ten minutes on the bus.
Rum punch
Mum’s clubbing days are behind her, which is probably for the best: there’s a time and place for tequila shots at Hootenanny’s but Thursday evening with your mother isn’t among them. (Maybe for her seventieth.) Anyway, we had a lovely time at a lovely restaurant and will be returning sooner rather than later – the lobster rasta pasta and wiri wiri lamb need to be explored. There are also special roasts on Sunday and indeed platters if you have enough mates.
Natty can cook, for sure, but he’s also created something that’s far more than just the food on your plate, wonderful though that food may be. May it grace Herne Hill for 2210 months and more.
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75 Norwood Rd, London SE24 9AA; 2210 by NattyCanCook
