Our waiter seems to know as much about every dish as if he’d cooked it himself. Maybe he has: it’s a dinky operation
I am not one to complain, but lunch in a shipping container on the Sheffield bypass isn’t exactly how I imagined this gig. Even the taxi driver hasn’t heard of Jöro and, after trying to deposit us at the Jurys Inn hotel, has to be guided in with the help of my phone, a fact that feels ever so slightly ominous, given they’ve been open 10 months.
Had I taken that degree in Old Norse – regrets, I’ve had a few – I’d not only have got the name right (as the cabbie was no doubt too polite to tell me, it’s pronounced “Yoro”), but been able to inform him, as we crawl past the National Emergency Services Museum, that it means earth, a fact that says much about the kitchen’s philosophy (yes, it’s that kind of place). Jöro is an “urban restaurant influenced by nature”, though hopefully not the flora and fauna of the A61, and offers, says the new Michelin guide, “new Nordic cuisine” on the threshold of the north.
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