If someone told me I’d be eating a meal at a zero-waste, sustainability-led restaurant, I’d see myself on a bamboo stool with a hessian placemat as I devour a vegan stew and scoop up the final dregs with a stale flatbread. The last place I’d think of would be a swanky, contemporary grill in Canary Wharf. Yet Roe, the latest from the team behind much-loved duo Fallow and Fowl, is pleasantly (and deliciously) subverting expectations.
People say you are what you eat, but what about what you’re welcomed by? On arrival, walk through the extensive 300-bin wine cabinet, sporting interesting selections from well-known and off-beat regions as you feast your eyes upon a luscious aeroponic wall. It’s not decorative. No, none of that posing with plastic foliage for Instagram nonsense. The green foliage is all edible. It will be used by the kitchen on your plate tonight. Here, look at your labels and inspect your ingredients before you’ve even handed in your coat. This is a new form of immersive dining.
Talking of immersive: despite being an enormous space at up to 500 covers, the kitchen is front and centre, its fiery heart exposed. If you can, sit at the sweeping countertop for the full-fire experience. Here, flaming mussels distract me as I select a cocktail. (As I glance over my right shoulder I see more flaming muscles, this time the chef’s tattooed variety. They only slow my decision making further). The cocktails seasonally twist on classics. I opt for a Roe 75; clementine replacing lemon in festive substitution. It does nothing other than make me merry and bright.
Mussels
The design of the place is interesting; asymmetrical scooping white walls, decorated with out postings of scarlet faux-fungi. Roe remind us of our coexistence with nature even in their interior design. The white concave structure behind me makes me feel like I’ve jumped into the belly of a sea creature. A modern-day Jonah and the Whale, I sit at this marble top, thinking not about dwindling faith, but comfortable within the belly of their kitchen beast. Unlike the Old Testament story, I do not wish for the whale to release me to reality. I could stay and eat for well over three days. I will happily sit learn any life lessons this team teach me. Here their bible is: food can be made sustainably and taste sublime. I am happy to practice (and eat) whatever they are preaching.
The menu has seven different sections (eight if you count the sides). Chef owners Will Murray and Jack Croft’s signature flame-fuelling take centre stage. There are mixed skewers and meat platters a plenty. Akin to their other locations, inventive snacks and small plates from carefully considered and sourced ingredients also feature. Despite looking alluring and smelling delicious, for two of us, the ‘feasts’ seems too large. Plus, I am tempted by so many of the smaller dishes. So, I decide to go biggy on smalls and sample a few mains.
Snail Vindaloo Flatbread
The only thing I did get right about my prediction on zero-waste meals: flatbreads. Here they are anything but stale, everything but obvious (and absolutely delicious). Doughy pillows so generously decorated, I wonder which is the accessory: the bread or the topping. These puffed-up circles of joy will make any bread product in your future disappointing. The Tunworth and pear oozes satisfaction. And snail vindaloo with mint yoghurt? Despite sounding a little daunting, if I see a wildcard like this on a menu, I simply must order it. It’s as delicious as experimental: garlicky, earthy, and rounded off with a sweet, creamy kick. Plus, I enjoy the need for an extra utensil; their friendly delivery of the escargot picker validates my desire for ordering the brave item on the menu.
Similarly, other stainless-steel implements carry well-constructed flavours in this joint. The skewers are magnificent. Served on a wooden tray, I urge you to fill it with a variety of their selection. The venison and lardo is gorgeous, the mushroom shawarma is lovely but the lamb shoulder elbows its way above all others. I chase it all down with a glass of Daniel Chotard Sancerre from the Loire Valley before moving on to market fish with curried shrimp. My dining companion opts for chilled Beaujolais. I have wine envy. That’s what I love about this place. The food is contemporary and innovative; a wine choice is as fluid as the influences on the menu.
Skewers
I do manage to save the tiniest room for pudding (and a good glass of the dessert stuff). We share milk soft serve and gingerbread and I swig their suggested pairing of a 2019 Tokaji Cuvee faster than I should. The gingerbread man garnish has a sad face. Irreverently sweet. A sense of humour. This place doesn’t take itself too seriously. Here they subtly and consciously make a stand for what they believe in, all while serving meat and fries to the banker boys.
Whilst it might not damage the planet, if you get too carried away it could end up damaging you bank balance. There’s wine’s scaling up 540 a bottle and the feast platters start at £45 but overall, food is reasonable priced. You can dine from £50pp and they also offer express lunch at £34 per head for two courses.
It almost feels oxymoronic to serve up earth-first fare to people who may reversed a year’s recycling impact with one high-stakes oil transaction in an afternoon. A place where eco-conscious chefs serve up flame-grilled modern dishes and business classics in the heart of London’s financial district is a restaurant that would make Greta Thunberg and the Green Party proud. No restaurant is too large to make a difference, apart from this one, maybe. Even if you’re someone who couldn’t care less about your carbon footprint (well firstly shame on you), when the food is this delicious? Honestly, you will. My advice? Come hungry. After all, waste not want not.
5 Park Dr, Wood Wharf, London E14 9GG; Roe
