Apricity

A little south of Oxford Street, Chantelle Nicholson's Apricity might one day come to define London dining in the new 'twenties'. Amid the plutocrats' boutiques of Duke Street, it styles out its defiant scruffiness, with scoured, undecorated walls, small café tables and light fixtures that look artfully dusty. Low-waste, vegetable-based cooking is the wave of an ecologically anxious future, and if it comes out as innovative and interesting (as it does here), nobody need feel deprived. Artisan farms supply much of the produce, as in a first-course of miso-roasted cabbage with pickled kale in a smoked emulsion. Not everything is vegetarian, however: a generous starter of pollock tartare with pickled kohlrabi, topped with broken linseed cracker, was full of freshness and bracing bite. To follow, there might be something earthy and carb-heavy such as discs of baked celeriac on a carpet of Black Badger peas, given a nice kick with a seasoning of cultured gochujang, or you might go full carnivore with a cutlet and rib serving of excellent lamb, alongside hunks of beetroot and a gentling splotch of labneh (though nothing of the promised mint salsa). Desserts expect you to have left your sweet tooth at home. Rhubarb with raspberry granita and cashew cream goes full-on with vegetal flavours, while the little plum and rapeseed tart, garnished with underripe plum, has little of the almond richness of traditional frangipane. Wines by the glass could do with broadening their horizons – the textures and fruit flavours fall within a fairly narrow band for each colour – but the selections themselves are good. We won't gag at Ferraton's St-Joseph in a month of dreary Sundays. Staff run the place with impressive coolness, not writing anything down. Don't turn your phone off, whatever you do: the menu is accessed via a QR code on a stone, or by navigating to the website.