It’s every bit as cool-kid as its location suggests, but the food is worth it
It’s often said that fashion is affected by its social and political environment. Same goes for food: the bloated 80s obsession with nouvelle cuisine, the millennial cupcake mania, the current green and right-on passion for foraging. Today’s explosion in niche trends, from comfort food to clean eating, seems to me a reaction to the political shambles we’re in. As the world inches closer to chaos, we focus hard on what we put into our faces. This, at least, is down to us.
Perhaps that’s why dumplings seem to be, er, mushrooming. What could be cosier, more happy-making, safer than little bite-sized bundles of deliciousness? It’s rare for me to meet a dumpling I don’t like, be it Italian ravioli or agnolotti, Turkish manti, Korean mandu, eastern European pelmeni and pierogi, Japanese gyoza, Indian momos and all the many blissful iterations of dim sum: bring ’em on. Even doughy suet numbers, gluey from their stew: yes, yes.
Related: Farmacy, London W2: ‘I pray I never eat here again’ – restaurant review
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