Tom Brown at The Capital Review

A few streets behind Harrods, just about diagonally opposite Sal e Pepe, a large, fluttering Union Jack marks the spot above a small, otherwise unobtrusive entrance. The Capital is a boutique hotel which blends in with its smart neighbourhood and boasts a rich culinary history. Dating back to an early ‘70s launch, it soon became one of the city’s first hotel restaurants to gain a Michelin star. Feted seafood chef Tom Brown wasn’t even born then, but after a stint almost a decade ago as head chef at Outlaw’s at the Capital, Brown returns with much buzz and brouhaha to the space which arguably made his name. In those intervening years, he hasn’t been slacking. About eighteen months ago, he launched the inventive and often dynamic Pearly Queen in Shoreditch before which he set Hackney’s wick ablaze with the oft-praised but now defunct Cornerstone, wherein he earned his own Michelin star for the first time. 

Monochromatic art and a green-tinted, white, glass top bar glow whilst natty, multi-coloured cushions, leather banquettes and curved armchairs invite relaxation. Various-sized pictures of a full moon present abstract texture to the cosy space with low ceiling and tables on which dainty vases bloom with flora. The cocktail menu might be inspired by gin and vermouth but we opt for a glass of Blanc de Noirs Vincent Testulat. As we sip, we discuss with enthusiastic Maitre’D, Max, all carrot quiff and cut glass locution, whether to choose the 5 or the 9 course menu. We opt for the latter, and before we know it, are whisked into the kitchen for a surprise appetiser.   

It’s a fun way to start the meal, not least because the Lobster/crispy rice ball dripped in lardo is presented by Brown himself, an affable presence with curlyish, short brown skin fade hair, a winning smile and an abundance of non-coloured tattoos which sneak out of most of his clothing. The kitchen is spotless and, apart from the five cheery staff who look and sound like they’re having the best night and are getting paid for it, to boot, the only giveaway that this might be a vital connection to the functioning seafood restaurant is the two John Dory hanging in a large air dryer. I ask Brown if he sources his product from Billingsgate, but he says it’s too big so he gets most from tried and tested contacts in his native Cornwall. We could chat all night but that’s not on the menu so we enjoy our arancini-like appetiser, make our excuses and head to the restaurant about eight steps away. 

Another intimate space with tables mainly for two and four, the restaurant is coloured in elegant Farrow and Ball type sea greens, greys and blues, all of which change hue with the encroaching night. If the thick carpet gives a homely feel, the lighting, four or five spaghetti stick sputniks, floats with more exoticism from high above. Either way, the restaurant’s 28 capacity offers a pleasant living room intimacy albeit one shared with a bunch of well-dressed strangers. 

A prawns on toast twist, Oyster Seaweed Toast, is exactly as it sounds and, at no more than two bites, is, effectively another appetiser.  Cooked at 63 degrees, the oyster is grey and not dissimilar in appearance to a mussel. Thin striations of seaweed decorate it and provide a dryer crunch to the toast’s more succulent one. Charcuturie offers another twist, the whole board a mixture of dried, cured, prepared fish rather than meat. Salmon, trout and cod are presented in various states of mortadella, pastrami and terrine. Dainty in size, little more than a mouthful, each is punching, literally, above its weight in flavour.

Everything’s pretty special so far but somehow, the Scallop, Apricot, Macadamia, Elderflower raises the stakes. Raw scallops surely don’t feature on many London menus but here they are, cut into thin slices and wedged between more colourful apricot slices. Paddling in a white, nutty milk, the fish and fruit are decorated with minuscule elderflowers. Delicacy, sublimity, subtlety commingle for full effect. The Mackerel, Soy, Quail’s Egg might have an Asian rising sun visual quality to it and a flavour to match but is less zen than the scallops. Not a million miles away from a mackerel tartar, we’re instructed to mix it all up, without restraint. The pretty root vegetable petals decorations are the first to suffer but the ponzu dressing with jalapeño provides the mackerel with a pleasing, simultaneous tang and spice. 

We’ve moved on to some crisp and zesty Belardent Picpoul de Pinet when Brown surprises us with another appearance and another favourite: Crab Custard. My dining companion asks if diners need a sophisticated palate to appreciate the chef’s offerings. Brown tells the story of when he took his father to a Michelin-star restaurant for the first time. He describes his father as the kind of man who’d only go to the hospital after cutting his eyeball if he could drive there himself. He was excited but nervous to take Brown Snr. to the restaurant but the man absolutely loved it and Brown Jr. avers his creations can be enjoyed by anyone. Certainly, crab custard sounds like a misnomer, don’t try this at home, kids, but its silky texture with its savoury brown crab flavour must be a classic in the making. White crab meat is squashed into a cube and cherry-type peeled tomatoes add extra zing. 

Next up is Cuttlefish ‘cacio e pepe’ – Italian for cheese and pepper. Cuttlefish is chopped with octopus for a mince meat texture, wrapped in a black and a white ravioli, which are also partially made from the cuttlefish. Presented in a very cheesy sauce drizzled with olive oil, this has the strongest fish taste thus far. What comes closest to a ‘main’ is cooked and presented by senior sous chef, Charlie, who much like Max and our waitress, is happy to chat, proud to be part of the team and its journey and has previous work history with his boss. There’s some greenery on this one and the chunk of Cornish Turbot looks like it’s about to be jumped by a bunch of sociopathic all be it well-dressed, vegetables; asparagus tips, charred spinach, half a courgette. The only one that isn’t green is puréed Jersey potato but small green leaves partially camouflage it, make it part of the crowd. Charlie pours a rich langoustine sauce over proceedings. The vegetables are perfectly al dente and the turbot is firm but silky.

Dessert chiefly eschews fish for what can only be described as a wall of chocolate. The Xoco Mayan Red 70% is firm enough to stand upright but slick and gooey enough to be a joyous way to end the night. It comes with crème fraÎche on one side and ice cream of the same on the other side. Decorated with a twirl of gold leaf, a sprinkling of, presumably, sea salt, a handful of caviar roe retains the seafood theme til the end. It’s a decadent way to complete a decadent evening, one where each course thrills and entertains without ever straining credibility. With fleeting but friendly appearances from Tom Brown and a fantastic front of house team led by the ever effervescent Max, Tom Brown at The Capital absolutely lives up the promise that was hoped for and expected of it.