Since opening in October 2020 – not exactly a storied year for the hospitality industry – Akoko has accomplished the rare ascension from restaurant to pilgrimage site, a place where you not merely eat but pay homage.
The combination of West African tasting menu and Michelin-grade presentation sent diners flocking to Berners Street – and with space for a mere 30 covers, the waiting list rivalled Glastonbury’s ticket queue. When Akoko won a Michelin star last year, the BBC ran a news story and the Guardian interviewed founder Aji Akokomi.
So yeah, I was fairly excited about this one. I brought my friend Lonan, who wore cream trousers specially for the occasion.
First up, it’s a mighty classy spot, the walls a soothing terracotta, the low lighting and amply spaced tables creating a very relaxed vibe. If Akoko ever needs a side hustle, there’s the option of pre-meal meditation classes. We got the next best thing: a handwash trolley, wielded by the charming Raheem, allowing diners to cleanse their hands with rock salt and warm water on arrival. A lovely touch in an evening full of them.
Soothing, isn't it?
We sat at the kitchen counter, so close you half expect to be chucked an apron and told to plate up. It feels like half the kitchens in London are open these days but Akoko's still offers a remarkably intimate experience, fine dining as statecraft. Watch as a dish is meticulously constructed two feet away, scan the menu with anticipation – it's like watching trailers for multiple movies.
The tasting menu is the only option – no al la carte here. The courses run into double figures so you’ll have to content yourself with a summary of the highlights. Rest assured, there isn’t a weak dish on here; these were the best of the best.
The meal kicks off with what I can only describe as a hot, savoury plantain donut, to be consumed in one bite if you're hard enough. Then baked oyster in yassa foam. “How can foam have so much flavour?” ponders Lonan. A valid question. The foam is also the same colour as his trousers.
Monkfish with pumpkin egusi
Bright green spinach soup is topped with tiny charred bits of spinach and strands of squid, deposited into the bowl via tweezers. A marvellous creation, delicate yet warm, and it required much willpower not to run my finger around the bowl. (Asking for bread seems like a no no.) Then mackerel in black-eye bean sauce that nonetheless comes out orange – the colours here are borderline hallucinogenic. It comes with a tray of four spongy moi moi, the sharpness of the fish contrasting wonderfully with the sweeter sponge.
Goats cashew cream with N25 caviar is an optional extra. We share one. Lonan compares the taste to MDMA. “It's euphoric.” He spends several minutes attempting to describe how it lingers in the mouth, thus proving the accuracy of the comparison in terms of the effect of consumption.
Something funny happens when we try the monkfish with pumpkin egusi. We take a spoonful and lean back in perfect synchronicity, grinning like goons. The almost chewy monkfish mixed with the creamy egusi is the stuff dreams are made of. My resolve, weakened by the spinach soup, finally failed here, and I quietly ran a finger round the bowl.
Beef, ox tail and jollof rice
BBQ Maitake in yam sauce is rich and earthy, food to be consumed in front of a roaring fire. (I guess the kitchen made a decent substitute.) Finally, Lake District beef, ox tongue and jollof rice, a dish of wonderful theatricality; the meat arranged in perfectly cut cubes on the plate – along with an orange dollop of Mbongo sauce – the rice arriving in its own steaming pot, accompanied by a little booklet explaining its origins. Not many dishes come with their own biographical note but Akoko’s jollof rice lives up to such heady billing.
A dessert of caramalised white chocolate was very nice, although I’ve never been much of a dessert person (one version of sweet is much like another version of sweet to my palate.) More exciting were the paired wines that accompanied each course – you had the option of old wave or new wave. The standout from both? An Alsace from French winery Jean Baptiste Adam. “That's perfect,” is Lonan’s verdict. “That’s a perfect wine.” It gives 10/10, no notes. I must also remark on the tableware, nearly as beautiful as the food they contain albeit in a much more subdued hue.
The set menus costs £125, the wine pairing either £110 or £90 depending on which wave you choose to ride. Unlike the food, wines can also be ordered separately by glass or bottle. The caviar supplementary course adds £38. The floor of your expenses starts at around £300 and can easily double depending on your orders. Expect to spend some bucks but receive plenty of bang in return. There's also the option of a shorter lunch menu at £65 – I'm not sure what you receive but I can guarantee it will be good.
Five years since opening and Akoko is still one of the hottest tickets in town. May it burn bright for the next fifty.
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21 Berners St, London W1T 3LP; Akoko
