HUMO London review, wood-fired restaurant, Mayfair, London UK

The restaurant launched in January 2023

(Image credit: HUMO)

published 27 April 2023

Man’s fascination with fire has been well documented through history. Cave paintings. Dante. The Crazy World of Arthur Brown. Er, King Louie from The Jungle Book. And, more recently, on these very pages, Niklas Ekstedt.

The UK’s 35 best restaurants of 2023 Ekstedt at The Yard review: a dazzling and simple celebration of Nordic flavours Restaurant St Barts London review: a near religious foodie experience

Then there’s HUMO. And frankly, every word that’s going to be written between now – a few short weeks since HUMO opened – and next year when, if it maintains this standard and precision, it will get its first Michelin star. It’s a compliment I’ve thrown around here before (correctly in the case of Restaurant St Barts, thank-you-very-much) but, in culinary terms, I don’t think I’ve ever been so convinced. This was a quite extraordinary meal.

Subscribe to The Week

Escape your echo chamber. Get the facts behind the news, plus analysis from multiple perspectives.

SUBSCRIBE & SAVE

https://cdn.mos.cms.futurecdn.net/flexiimages/jacafc5zvs1692883516.jpg

Sign up for The Week's Free Newsletters

From our morning news briefing to a weekly Good News Newsletter, get the best of The Week delivered directly to your inbox.

If you didn’t know HUMO’s USP before you arrive, you’ll pick it up soon enough: the restaurant is built around a four metre-long grill. There’s no electricity. There’s no gas. There are, however, glowing coals, flickering flames, and billowing smoke from different parts of this impressive focal point, as the chefs utilise every different aspect to prepare and cook some genuinely remarkable dishes. The different techniques and different woods create different textures and imparting subtle hints and flavours to the (impeccably sourced) ingredients.

“Ignite”, the “official” start of the meal, “the spark that causes combustion” is, for the most part, raw although not necessarily conventionally so. Yellowtail has been aged five days and comes dressed in an utterly delightful sauce of citrus and Castillo coffee, the latter from the chef’s family farm in Colombia. Aged fish, coffee and citrus are not ingredients you’d consider at home; it’s a terrific dish but not the best thing we try at this point.

That accolade belongs to “Trout & Caviar”. That begins with the sort of interaction mentioned above: you’re not only shown the trout that’s about to come your way – Ike-Jime Hampshire trout that’s spent 12 days in the ageing cupboard visible among the wine fridges downstairs – but also the caviar that’s been aged for three months in konbu kelp, and that’s about to be lightly smoked before being served atop the trout, now gently seared over oak. Would I be able to differentiate this from another wood, another smoked fish, a differently aged caviar? No. Not a chance. Did I enjoy it? Oh... you have no idea. Do I believe Miller could tell the difference between woodsmokes and alternative fish eggs? Abso-blooming-lutely.

From “Smoke” – vegetables from the grill – we opt for “salsify”, which comes with Jerusalem artichoke, saffron and hazelnut emulsion, and Ayrshire Blackthorn salt. Again, it’s a winning combination of textures, flavours and sensations – and demonstrates that HUMO isn’t just for the carnivorous or pescetarian, although the following “Flame” courses – scallop and native lobster – make a strong case for the alternative.

The scallop – hand-dived, from Orkney – is grilled on a stave of old whisky barrel, served with a Speyside sabayon, and white konbu. Again bemusing, again dazzling. Native lobster – Scottish, 24-month oak aged Jura chardonnay, HUMO 09 spice mix – is perhaps even better, although that could be the visual element of the flambadou. Before it’s served, you get to watch it lightly seared with melted Kagoshima beef fat because, as you can imagine, with several types of fire front and centre, there’s considerable theatre here. And if you can watch lobster being gently seared in dripped beef fat and not think “er, yes, and one of those” we will never be friends.

Wines… I haven’t mentioned the wines. The list is an intriguing one, arranged by variety rather than region, which perhaps opens the casual wine drinker up to new versions of old favourites. Although the sommelier Merlin Ramos – insert own obvious wizard gag here – and his team will also point you to some utter gems, by the bottle or the glass, such as the American Recordings Oregon Pinot Noir that’s has hints of rhubarb and strawberry. The sort of gem that might, you know, leave you Googling bottles between courses and perhaps ordering half a case. Possibly. Cough.

And then it’s almost over… except for the “Cinders”, the final stage and HUMO’s dessert menu. Amalfi lemon – a tart with an almond base, oak “burnt” Italian meringue, fresh yuzu and Sake lees ice-cream – is wonderful. Better though is La Andina. Inspired by “Crema Catalana”, it’s made from grandilla, a Colombian fruit that you’re shown before the preparation, and the finished version comes with a tiny spoonful of the fresh fruit.