Yorks Café at Ikon
CULTURE VULTURES
All that investment in Georgie as a toddler is paying off big time… dragging her around galleries, not taking the easy option when it came to travel, nor when eating out. I recall a meal at a fancy restaurant in Alberobello, Puglia—when she was about five. Having gone through the menu for her, she announced with absolute conviction, she wanted the Black Tagliolini with Clams and Sea Asparagus.
When the waiter came to take our order, he suggested it wasn’t a dish for a child, offering to get the kitchen to make pasta with tomato sauce. She wasn’t having any of it and he eventually took the order, with a ‘can’t say I didn’t tell you’ shrug. Later, when he came back to take the empty plates away, nodding appreciatively, I was sat chest puffed with pride.
The upshot of that is she’ll not be fobbed off when it comes to eating out. Our dad and daughter days out often include an art gallery and/or lunch. This Saturday we’re heading up to the Ikon to see the Barry Flanagan exhibition and running late I suggest we grab a sandwich, but Georgie is minorly affronted.
Oh well, at least there’s Yorks Café, the current dining and bar option at the Ikon, offering an eclectic, round the world menu… Turkish, Lebanese, Persian, Greek, British, American, North African, Korean and English options across salads, small plates and brunch—served til 4pm at weekends.
It’s not particularly busy as we walk in and neither of us can see past the brunch options, so it’s Eggs Benedict; crispy potato cakes, poached eggs, tarragon mustard hollandaise with avocado for Georgie and Louisiana fried chicken, bacon, butter waffle, maple syrup for me. I order at the bar and with a large Verdejo and raspberry lemonade the bill comes to £31.70 and we take a seat.
This is a very classy, well-designed space, extending to furniture, lighting and a chilled electronica mix that all collaborates effortlessly to transport me to a cosmopolitan European city. There is art—for sale—on bare brick walls, broken up with the sharp lines of ceiling high white plaster and huge crittall windowed-doors that open up onto the sun terrace overlooking the Japanese Zen garden in Oozles Square.
Yorks cafe at IKON
Whilst that’s not remotely an option on this damp and drab November day, it’s where we sat last time; a beautiful, June day whilst here to see Hew Locke’s exhibition. On that visit we opted for small plates; Korean chicken, pea and potato pakoras and the spiced cauliflower being memorable. Nor can there be many better outdoor terraces in the city centre to enjoy an Aperol spritz in the sun.
Our food arrives shaking me from that reverie. My two stacked pieces of Louisana chicken are in the lightly coated, blackened spice style and just the right side of dry. Its spicy saltiness works harmoniously with the sweet and rich butter waffle, intensified by the maple syrup; although, as with all things with star-quality, I’d have preferred more of the wetness of the maple syrup, although it forced me to keep my palate lubricated with the dry, crisp aromatics of the Verdejo. It could be worse.
Louisiana Chicken
But the real disappointment was discovering just a single rasher of back bacon hidden almost apologetically, under the chicken and on top of the waffle. It wasn’t smoked, crispy or even dry cured.
I’m about four or five forkfuls in, when I look up to Georgie to enquire how her Benedict is, only to see it nearly demolished. “That was so good”, she replies, eggs cooked to perfection, a tangy, rich hollandaise and she’s impressed with the crispy hash-like potato cakes, so maybe it’s not such a controversial swap for the muffin.
For me, the food wasn’t quite up to the standard last time, so based on today—especially with the space and service, it’s still a ‘worth a try’; based on Georgie’s and the previous experience, it’s recommended.
By 4pm, when we’ve finished eating, it’s three quarters full and there’s a decent atmosphere building. Now properly feeling like I’m on a city break, I fight the urge to suggest another drink. Besides, Georgie is part of the Ikon Youth Programme and they’ve got their own exhibition running; as a response to the work of Barry Flanagan. That’s my chest puffed with pride again.
WORTH A TRY
RECOMMENDED (by Georgie)
