George Hartshorn — one half of the fraternal team (Luis the other) who have swapped touristy Camden pub The Farrier for this local wine bar, bistro and bottle shop — leans over our table, eyes sparkling.
He regales us with tales of his Jäger-shotting grandmother, who had a joie de vivre which inspired the very essence of the brothers; their latest venture so much so that it is even named after her.
He recommends we taste the choccy torte with cinnamon custard, and we don’t take much strong-arming. It is the deepest, softest cacao dessert I have ever consumed. General manager Rochelle Hutchinson’s time at the River Café can be thanked for this.
Parisian chef Elie Fourcroy, meanwhile, has crafted a tarte tatin with apple boulders which melt at the slightest touch of the tongue. Both are so sugary I will have to tranquillise myself with my melatonin dropper when I get home — the perfect end to any 30-something-year-old’s evening.
A little earlier in the evening, sipping jasmine sparkling tea and homemade limoncello, my dining companion and I watch as candles dance along to the eclectic music and bustle of the diners. Clara’s atmosphere is stylish yet pared-back, letting the food take centre stage.
Then, it’s time to eat. Bavette steak is roughly hewn, bursting with juice and flavour. Chicken hearts are wrapped in bacon, bursting like little fireworks, and sourdough is thick and warm.
Burrata and mortadella are tossed together with spots of pesto; for £16 it’s a salty, bland experience.
Anchovy butter for the sourdough is pleasantly startling. But anchovy crops up a little too regularly for my liking, and not always in the right places. Pronged onto a stick for a Gilda? Sure. But in an aioli for purple sprouting broccoli, it dominates the dish. Cod roe offers a stern waft of the sea but would be better not to be served with crisps.
Maybe we should have tried the rainbow salad of radicchio and Cara Cara orange, or the Jerusalem artichokes. Had we simply ordered badly? The jump from standard small-plate pricing between £10 and £20 to the £45/£48 fish and meat dishes doesn’t leave much wiggle room.
Plus, our options were limited. We arrived at 8pm, by which point the pantry had been well and truly raided — the whole gurnard (a personal fishy favourite of mine), Iberian featherback steak and quail’s eggs were all sold out. Our own fault for dining fashionably late, you might say.
But the staff are all handsome young men in blue shirts, with a clear passion for hospitality. The bottle shop provides the opportunity to take that summery Pfalz Riesling or solid Mappings Hills Chardonnay home with you. Clara’s has all the trappings of a much-needed oasis of style and substance, right in the heart of Shoreditch.
And the masses clearly think so, too. The restaurant has been open for a matter of weeks and is already slammed, something that may well have contributed to the reduced menu. I’m sure the brothers will sort out their stock issues.
My recommendation? Sit far at the back, in the gloom. Order two desserts per person (you deserve it). Get there early, before someone snaps up the dish you have your eye on. Enjoy.
Clara’s, 17 Bethnal Green Rd, E1 6LA.
