Le Bab, Soho

Le Bab, set on the top level of a busy Kingly Court between Carnaby and Regent Streets, is crammed. Despite the place being full of the young, the thin and the beautiful of Friday night Soho , they still let me in. There’s a wait- people seem to be enjoying themselves far too much, and a late change to our party size means they can’t fit us in as initially booked- and weend up sat on either side of the front windowsill. It’s cosy: as we eat, another queue forms outside.

A revelation, it holds together just long enough to be given a good drubbing with the smoked chilli mayonnaise and shoved into your glistening chops. They are naggingly memorable, even months on.

But good as they are, they are topped- just- by the chicken. I can’t remember the last time a ‘nugget’ beguiled me like this. Bite into the thing- a hot spurt of meaty juices, a kiss of cumin in the coating- and resistance is useless. You’ll be seduced too.

It’s about as far from the familiar, cut and paste battered briquette of blandly indeterminate protein as you can find. They demand to be given a good seeing-to with the paprika mayonnaise.  Fingers will be licked. Fingers will be sucked. The whole thing verges on the positively nubile.

My nephew has cod cheeks (£6.50) – for clarity, this is what he orders from the menu, rather than some bizarre facial mutation- and they are a lovely thing, little velvety nuggets (there’s that word again) of fish seared on the grill, with a pleasantly citrussy hummus and a peanut dukkah for yet another cavalcade of textures.

The main event kebabs maintain this impressive level. Mild aniseed tones of pickled fennel are unusual in this kind of thing, the pork crackling or vegetable crisps scattered like little depth charges of contrasting crunch- they clearly understand the importance of how things feel in the mouth here. 

Fries are remarkably good- pre-seasoned but not overly so, and teamed with a pot of sticky fondue with a rarebit level of tickly warmth. The Independent called them ‘among the best in London’ and while acknowledging I’m only a periodic visitor these days and so not the best person to proffer an informed opinion, it’s hard to imagine they’re far wrong.  The meat is impeccably done, the ‘extras’ 

You will remember these on those winter’s nights, those gloomy evenings when you leave work in darkness and start the long, damp walk back to a cold car; as your breath fogs in the air, you crave something simple and satisfying. ‘Remarkably good’ is faint praise.  

Let’s settle on ‘extraordinarily good.’  There’s an understanding here, a sense of what makes simple pleasures even better without any unseemly fannying about with the essence of the thing.

What your local Lebanese/Persian/Turkish late night beacon often lacks, however, is that higher-welfare meat, traceability, the attention to detail, the innovative tweaks found here. Mystery Meat or not, it’s the bargain you strike when you make your usual order: don’t ask, don’t tell. Here, it’s corn-fed Norfolk Black chicken, and Red Duroc pork from Suffolk cooked for 15 hours. The fact everything is made on site, the attention to provenance and technique is distinctive; it’s ‘proper restaurant’ standards applied to food many might think a little undeserving of such investment.

Their loss.

You may bridle against the perceived gentrification of that trusty end-of-night staple. You may not believe that the kebab needed such a dramatic facelift- it is about as far from elegant tableware and napkin swans as you can get, but it’s an intriguing idea and one executed beautifully, with London flair and panache but with a light touch. 

Le Bab doesn’t take itself too seriously, but feeds you seriously well. What’s not to love?

Le Bab,

Top Floor, 

Kingly Court, 

Carnaby Street, 

London 

W1B 5PW