The internet is in nostalgia’s chokehold. 2016 is cool again, apparently. Since the start of the year, social media is awash with embarrassing throwbacks. I don’t succumb to posting such silliness but I dive into my iPhone archive to validate. Nothing’s changed: 89% food pictures, 9% blurry mis-snaps, the rest drunken selfies. In the last decade the food in question has greatly improved. Thankfully, so has my ability to pose for the front camera.
What was I eating in 2016? New to London, I spent nights oscillating between spiralising courgettes and meeting friends in Kingly Court where we would drink cheap wine and eat posh fried chicken. So here I am, back in the environs a decade later. The place bustles with an agitation of pre-theatre tourists, pizza chains, and novelty cocktail bars. Now, it’s somewhere I rarely visit—let alone recommend. Until, that is, I walk into ALTA.
ALTA is the vision of Head Chef Rob Roy Cameron and has been backed by MAD restaurant group who opened stylish Japanese-inspired MOI last year. Cameron has worked in Spain’s most respected kitchens such as El Bulli and Hoja Santa. At ALTA, he marries Northern Spanish flavours and techniques with the best of the British larder.
It’s a Kingly Court culinary shelter. I am licked warm by kitchen flames as the team welcome me into a calm cavern of muted-earthy existence. A meditative borderless kitchen operates; I sit transfixed while pork chops are turned on a grill and kumquat slices are tweezed onto crudo. Never too entertained to order a cocktail, mind you, I sip on a tiny pine martini. A dinky triumph with a sharp resiny kick.
My companion arrives and opts for savoury Dead Stone Daisy: espelette, lime, umami seasoning and tequila blend into something curiously delectable. I have cocktail envy. It’s well-thought through and a hoot on the senses; the drink equivalent to a sensible older sibling who reads a lot of Silvia Plath and is way more fun than they let on after a couple.
Squid
Steak
We start with succulent ‘Txistorra’ sausages. When we move on to the raw stuff I start gesticulating in the insufferable ways of an influencer pretending to enjoy the mouthful they just consumed for an audience. Except I am not pretending. Perfect razor clams pose above luscious white saffron escabeche while bream with kumquat and mandarin is a fanfare of citrus symphony.
We dovetail it with a 2022 Ollos Branco from glasses so elegant, holding the stem is almost a tightrope exercise for fingers. We’re here for the long haul so it’s a bottle, but if like 2016 me, you’re a chronic commitment-phobe, there’s many low intervention wines and pre-mixed cocktails served on tap.
Next, we sample white beetroot, Wakefield cheese, and macadamia. It’s nothing special – until the sliver of preserved lemon hiding between slices takes it to unexpected places.
The squid however is ALTA’s secret star; silently boasting of Cameron’s innovation. Another faint reminder of 2016. It’s almost as if it’s spiralised. Delicate fluted tendrils rest on Vizcaina sauce. They’re draped with beautiful chiffons of lardo and confetti’d with croutons. It tastes a hell of a lot better than courgetti, though. Perhaps if Cameron had his way in 2016, that awful food fad would have stood the test of time.
'chocolate, bread, olive oil’
And as is customary for any fire-led Basque joint, something from the grill is wise—if not imperative. We opt for unctuously flavoursome sirloin partnered with plush leeks and walnuts. Divine.
I implore you not to skip dessert. The ‘chocolate, bread, olive oil’ acts as a reminder of how experimental combinations can also feel hugely comforting. Perilously moreish chocolate is seasoned with salt and olive oil and paired with sourdough sorbet. It’s finished with a soy-infused meringue so fluffy I fear I’ll start rising off my seat towards the ceiling with each joyful, toasted mouthful.
Compared to other restaurants of similar ilk, prices here are quite reasonable especially given the quality. Smaller plates come in between £10-£25 while grill items range from £32-£140. Expect to drop around £75-£100 per person.
ALTA’s brilliance is hiding in Soho plain sight. It’s well-worth an unpleasant commute down Carnaby street. As for my own trip down 2016 memory lane? Didn’t hate it. And when this particular Kingly Court visit was this delicious – I won’t be waiting another decade to feel nostalgic about it.
Ground Floor, Kingly Ct, Carnaby, London W1B 5PW: ALTA
