Restaurant review

Under the knife: Four Corners at Rondo la Cave

I first went to Rondo la Cave a couple of years ago when I saw a snap of the Detroit-style deep dish that Four Corners was doling out during its residency there. Combine these serious slabs of pizza with a funky but clean, crisp take on Provence rosé from Freddie Cossard – made with 20-year-old Cinsault – and I fell in love. The residencies that followed both caught my eye – Chet’s Thai-Americana junk food courtesy of Night+Market’s Kris Yenbamroong, and Dollars, a celebration of the deli sandwich from Singapore’s Andrei Soen, and then Brooklyn’s Four Horsemen. I wanted to catch each one, but didn’t. When I saw that Four Corners was back – and this time for good, the pull was too much to resist.

The natty-leaning wine bar is tucked beneath The Hoxton in Holborn. Unlike the sleek-yet-casual minimalism of the hotel, this basement channels dive-bar chic. A neon sign welcomes you as you descend to a slightly gloomy space, with an open kitchen, chalkboard menus, rustic wooden panelling – spotlessly clean yet with just a hint of grunge.

Operating as both a wine bar and shop (with some particularly fun beers and ciders too, although those aren’t all available to drink in), the list is firmly natural, with few familiar names. But in amongst these are reassuring signals of good taste – such as a rosé from Judith Beck (vibrant, juicy, moreish and a touch reductive) or the cult Domaine des Ardoisières Argile Blanc. The “house red” is a País//Cabernet/Carignan blend – juicy, savoury and fruity, the sort of thing that is perfect pizza fare.

Pure, utter filth.

And the pizza, oh the pizza. Trays of two-inch-thick focaccia are re-baked with cheese around the edge, forming a filthily savoury, fat-crisped crust to each pie. The list of topping options is short and simple, with specials making guest appearances. The red top (tomato, cheddar, mozzarella, pecorino and oregano) sets the bar, with its sweet-and-salty balance. Pistachio and mortadella combines a pistachio pesto with flutters of mortadella (surely the king of cold cuts?) and soft, creamy mounds of burrata. The soppressata combines gentle heat and meaty richness with sweet arrabbiata sauce and honey, the cut of basil making it the most moreish of them all. Slices are generous, verging on obscene, yet the base feels so airy, the combination of flavours so addictive, that it’s easy to devour much more than you intend to. Fortunately, doggy bags are offered freely.

Weninger’s hopped rosé – a delicious curiosity

To finish, we had a fascinating hopped rosé from Weninger. This curiosity sat somewhere between cider and wine, with a pleasing savoury, almost bretty feel, but still lifted fruit and freshness, as well as a satisfying phenolic grip. As we were about to leave, a member of the team arrived with a mystery gallon jug, scribbled with permanent marker. Sweetcorn, chilli, mezcal and several other ingredients were combined to make a maverick twist on an old fashioned – smoky, fiery, savoury and totally lethal. it’s just one marker of the service here, that draws you in, making you an insider.

It’s not flawless. Some wines were out of stock, one member of the team didn’t really know the wine list or if things were available, and I’d have loved it if the Brooklyn Ghost Bottlings they sell in the shop were on the list to drink in. But, beyond that, this joint feeds your guiltiest dreams with undeniable class, blending junk food and funky wine to create a spot that exudes fun. The one downside of Four Corners’ return? Calories now feature on the menu. Don’t bring your reading glasses, and you’ll have a much better time. Ignorance, in this instance, really is bliss.

Four Corners at Rondo la Cave, 199-206 High Holborn, London WC1V 7BD

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Under the knife: Café Deco

Look at Anna Tobias’s Instagram and it is deliciously ugly. The queen of #beigefood, she’s a refreshing counter to the curated profiles of London’s leading culinary talent. There’s no portrait mode, no careful lighting, no considered plating and careful ceramic selection. Indeed, her trademark has become the Chartier plate.

It’s a neat embodiment of the food you’ll find at Café Deco, her Bloomsbury restaurant that opened in the heart of the pandemic in late 2020, a collaboration with the 40 Maltby Street team. On the quiet of Store Street, it glows welcomingly, with the soft light and a stripped-back feel under its soft green awning. But there’s an Old World classicism here, with white table cloths and tealights that feel reminiscent of a French bistro or Italian trattoria rather than modish London eatery.

The menu is hard to describe, at once determinedly British, yet with classical French and Italian influence running through it. Modern European is a disservice to this very gentle combination that seems both familiar and totally refreshing.

Flawless sourdough and creamy salted butter set the tone – offered here without an additional charge, a rarity beyond the most expensive establishments. Smoked mackerel with beetroot and horseradish chrain (£11) is a statement in simplicity: the pleasing chunk of mackerel closeted in its iridescent skin, bones and all, pertly placed alongside a pile of firm and flavoursome, vibrant beetroot cut by the fire of horseradish. A mouthful of the pumpkin caponata and baked ricotta (£12) offered the perfect balance of sweet and sour, with the soothing creaminess to balance its intensity.

Beef mince on dripping toast, watercress and pickled walnut (£25) cries out to me – and rightfully so on a wet and windy November evening. But this is no Quality Chop knock-off. The oblong of toast is crisp, the mince an honest and subtle alternative to its Farringdon friend – less decadent, rich and gout-inducing, yet no less comforting. A perfect pickled walnut provides the sharp bite to prevent the plate’s reassuring brown-ness becoming bland. Roast halibut, potatoes and salsa verde (£28) sees similar acclaim from my fellow diners.

Chocolate pudding pie (£9) was a triumph – the finest, crispest pastry shell holding an almost inappropriately good chocolate ganache, layered with an almost obscene volume of pillowy whipped cream: the ensemble is one of the sexiest puds you’ll ever eat. Apple charlotte and cream (£9) leaves a Lancashire-man speechless.

Everything is simple, modest, yet executed to the finest level. It’s cooking that speaks of Tobias’s CV so far, with Jeremy Lee, the River Café and Rochelle Canteen, not to mention the P. Franco residency that I still have FOMO about. It’s not cheap, but it’s also the sort of place where you can linger, you can hear everyone around the table, where napkins are weighty, there are plentiful coat hooks. These details are the thing that elevates this from just a nice restaurant to somewhere that you can see yourself returning to time and time again.

There is but one black mark against the place. The wine list, unfortunately, is for me the only downside. It’s the sort that is obfuscatingly, determinedly natural. And few bottles sit below the £50 mark, making most choices risky. The wait-staff were delightful, but I’m not convinced they’d be particularly helpful in guiding you to a safe choice. On the upside, corkage is available, at £25, which is worth doing if you plan to drink well.

Take a bottle, or just savour the joys of #beigefood pure – I can guarantee you won’t regret it.

Café Deco, 43 Store Street, London WC1E 7DB