Bōkan 37: elevated cuisine

If you’re not a banker who’s become accustomed working halfway up the nearby HSBC building, the view from Bōkan 37 can be quite difficult to get to grips with. Viewed from here atop Novotel’s Canary Wharf Branch, far to the east of what could be considered central London, the capital looks rather distant. Its myriad skyscrapers are clumped together on the horizon like the Emerald City of Oz, with the Thames, snaking toward it, taking the form of the Yellow Brick Road in this overwrought metaphor.

My mother and I sat at our rather lofty table in the bar, awaiting our pre-dinner cocktails and attempting to orient ourselves against the scene outside the window, occasionally being distracted by the surreal sight of narrow-body jets skipping over the top of Canary Wharf on their final approach to London City Airport. Despite this being listed as a Modern European restaurant and situated in the city’s most hi-tech district, there was something oddly cosy about the establishment, its obvious industrial-chic modernity undercut by the wood which covers every accessible surface, something halfway between a Nordic log cabin and a traditional izakaya. Outside, it being late November, the sun had long since set the temperatures had plummeted, adding to this homely, welcoming atmosphere.

But we had scaled this Novotel for more than mere vibes, and soon were sipping on an array of unusual cocktails from a menu of which the Bōkan team are rather proud, its contents characterised by the inclusion of surprising ingredients mixed in surprising ways. I started with the Spicy Fifty, featuring an intriguing mix of vodka, elderflower, lime, agave and chili, its flavour profile stranding it somewhere between a margarita and a St-Germain. My mother, meanwhile, opted for the Clementina, which mixed Tanqueray Sevilla with apricot brandy and prosecco for a citric, summery concoction. 

Once we had signalled to Roberto that we were finished, he roused us from our seating position and directed us downstairs to the restaurant proper, which was bursting at the seams with energy. Everyone from young couples to groups of bankers and entire families had made themselves home in this kinetically ripe environment, alternately toasting with their champagne glasses and gawping at the view with equal frequency. We were seated in the ‘panoramic’ corner where two of the floor-to-ceiling windows converge, offering us an even wider view of Canary Wharf which now included One Canada Square, once the tallest building in the UK.

To cut a long story short, the tasting menu which followed was a culinary whirlwind. Bizarre combinations which seemed unnatural on paper were a delight on the plate and even more so on the palate, and nothing exemplified this more succinctly than the first of our eight courses for the evening. Sweet heart cabbage, sauerkraut and burnt mayo sounds like a somewhat brassica-heavy dish, and it’s rare to find a menu item deliberately described as “burnt”, but to say this combination worked flawlessly would be an understatement. Deeply smoky and crispy, each bite of the cabbage brought with it a surge of buttery umami, with an almost sweet kick offered by the sauerkraut. The standard had been set, and it had been set high.

The “hand dive scallop” with Cornish earlies potato and lemon condiment was another highlight, offering a creamy, tangy twist on the traditional maritime characteristics you might expect from such a dish, before I was presented with the foie gras escalope with flambé mandarin and blinis. Almost confrontationally tart flavours abounded here, offsetting the hearty punch of the offal to create a unique, sour-yet-meaty melange; this was by far the most demanding, curious dish of the night. A pleasant, significantly more conventional sea bass and ceps mushroom course came next, coated in a dashi broth coaxing out more oceanic flavours. Furthermore, it was paired with a superb white from Esporao in Southern Portugal – just one of a number of world-class wines we would be offered alongside our eight dishes.

Then came what was, without question, the showstopper: organic venison saddle with fig compote and sangria jus. Hefty, bold and bursting with layers of flavour, this was a supreme cut of meat, topped with a thick jus featuring a plum-like profile, like a sort of dried fruit gravy. It was exceptional to the point where this one course alone should be enough to pique the interests of any meat lovers in the capital. And when paired with a  Shiraz/Grenache/Mourvedre blend from the Rhone Valley, it was practically heaven manifest.

Two highly intriguing desserts followed, starting with a palate-cleansing fig leaf sorbet which had a stodgy, paste-like quality, allowing the fig to really stick to the mouth for maximum flavour transfer. Then, on a similarly figgy note, came the Mystic Fig, one of executive chef Robert Manea’s trademark dishes featuring a wild mix of olive oil, lemon and, predictably, a whole lot of fig. It’s quite a ride. Manea, formerly of L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon in London’s West End, came to greet us after the meal, offering us some insight into his unique – and uniquely delicious – creations and rounding off our evening with more of the warm hospitality we had enjoyed throughout this astonishing meal.

Bōkan 37, set across three floors high above this wonderful city, sets an exceptional example for high-rise restaurants. So many skyscraper-topping establishments in the UK make the unfortunate yet predictable mistake of concentrating more on marketing their view than their culinary fare, with lacklustre offerings made up for by remarkable vistas. Bōkan 37, meanwhile, is thoroughly fixated on delivering daring, beautifully presented and ultimately delicious dishes to its guests – and it just so happens to have views to die for. Jackpot.

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