Restaurant Review of Morchella, London EC1: “Degenerate, surprising, weird, and usually proud”

 Although Xmouth Market in East London EC1 is hardly a hidden gem, it is much less frequented than other food-focused areas like Borough Market or Spitalfields. This road is perhaps among the nicest sites in London, of course. Even if you squander three to six hours on ice cream, lunch, and absinthe, attracting visitors is still challenging.
I ask them briskly, “Do you know that Morro is the birthplace of small British plates?” Additionally, Sadler’s well is not far away.” Reactions are generally bland, but those who oppose it will now miss Morchella, a new venue that sits below the popular Perilla in Stoke Newington and was recently featured on Roseb. It is housed in a superb pre-late Victorian bank at the intersection of Ery Avenue. You would expect that this enormous, high-ceilinged room has lost some of its previous appeal after many pizzerias have leased it in recent years, but oddly, quite the reverse is true. In truth, the ghosts of London and the Southwest Bank have never been quite like this since Morchella transformed them using herringbone-shaped flooring made of natural wood.

Salted cod dough sticks by Morchella: “It’s spicy, crispy, and spicy.”
It’s possible that these ghosts fly over Mocella’s salt-baked Pussan and Spanish noodles, or that its employees dress in opulent, tailored jail garb that resembles a bottle of green. The menu consists of a small selection of traditional Mediterranean foods that are regularly updated. I understand that it may seem a bit frightening, but who wants to improvise by making panzanella or vongole? It seems that I succeeded. Besides, it is hard to dispute with Morchella’s “fried dough sticks” of salted fish. God bless the fish and donut’s earthly meeting; it’s so hot, so crisp, and so fragrant. Similarly, spanakopita, which is often consumed as thick ribs, is served here as beautiful finger food wrapped in paper-thin pastry and filled with lush, pond-green spinach. These two “snacks” are really just steroid appetizers.
Daniel Fletcher is in charge of this kitchen, which produces an intense blend of opulent, unexpected, bizarre, and typically totally successful meals. I was fooled by the menu before I arrived, believing that the restaurant catered to a “easy and stylish Mediterranean atmosphere” with dishes like fish with Sobrasada and Parmentil potatoes. This promises food that will replicate the mild European environment in the sun and breeze. Still, nothing in Morchella is hurried or happens by chance. It has a kitchen, and the cooks worry a lot about where exactly the excruciating vitello tonnato is located. This is not how Ankang fish fillets are thrown into the squid stew. This is a square in Speedos, complete with shovels and buckets, not a Mediterranean club.

“This dish, Mochella’s mushroom roast pork ribs, seems like something from Tolkien’s dreams.”
A dish of premium coppa, mussels, and bol pil-style mussels, as well as huge portions of freshly baked sponge Italian pancakes topped with pepper-red algal seaweed—also known as “sea truffles”—are some other appetizers served at the opening. Afterwards, boiling cauliflower and mushrooms were added to the shell along with the fatty orkney scallops, and black pepper was used to garnish. Garlic-infused crisp salad of chicory.
Nevertheless, despite these strong scents, Morchella also seems to be family-friendly; throughout the weekend of our visit, strollers, infants, and grandparents were all over the place. Even the most conservative customers will preheat the ribs and bake them gently until they are tender, then top with aged, pungent, pickled mushrooms. The outcome is astounding: this meal resembles JRR Tolkien’s fantasy, a potent blend of spicy vinegar, happy-making heat, and tender, fruitful meat. However, those who avoid meat could choose Parmesan panzerotto, since frying calzones gives them a whole new lease on life.

The portokalopita with black olives and blood oranges from Morchella “may make all other pudding in 2024 look poor.”
Dessert is light and bite-sized. There was a gorgonzola with mustard fruit and a fresh lemon pie on the day we visited. Everybody has to go back. Instead, we went with pudding—blood orange and black olive portokalopita—which would make any other pudding in 2024 seem petty. This is a rich, glistening, thick block that resembles a sponge but is really filo dough infused with syrup, giving it a pudding-like consistency reminiscent of bygone eras. I’m easily fooled by any opulent pudding that seems to be steam-cooked in a jar. Furthermore, it turns out that adding black olives to the pudding is acceptable, particularly when paired with a slice of lemon-peel cream. Made using one of your five daily servings of chopped oranges, this dish is sweet, somewhat bitter, and luscious.
It follows that the Exmouth market is probably not as well-known or well-liked as Notting Hill or Covent Garden. However, I know I’d like to go someplace for lunch.
• Morchella 020-7916 0492, London EC1, 84-86 Rosebery Avenue. Tuesday through Saturday, 5:30 p.m. to 10:30 p.m.; Sunday, noon to 6:30 p.m. Open for lunch from Wednesday through Saturday. Commencing at around £50 per person (services included), plus refreshments