In culinary terms, Hammersmith has long been a strange one. There have been flashes of brilliance – there’s a good few of us who will recall The Brackenbury with teary fondness and, well, River Café continues to appeal to those with a company credit card. Or a trust fund. Or an oligarch somewhere in their immediate family. There have been and still are, a few proper local gems.
My first full-time journalism job was far up King Street and was mostly fuelled by the yellow curry at The Hammersmith Café. The likes of Indian Zing and 101 Thai Kitchen (ok, that’s technically Ravenscourt Park but it’s still W6) have long been respected by those in the know, and The Gate has been doing great things in the name of vegetarianism for years.
For the most part, though, Hammersmith was never quite as good as it should have been but there are some signs things are changing. The cult that is Crisp Pizza. River Café’s brilliantly named offspring the River Café Café looks to be doing good things for considerably less money than the original. Sam’s Riverside is a stone’s throw from that, which is charming, dependable and always enjoyable (ditto assorted other bits of Sam’s “empire” just around the corner, particularly the dangerous deli/shop). And, for the last few months, there’s Faber almost opposite the station and bus garage.
It is, frankly, an unlikely spot for what transpires to be one of London’s best seafood places. Hell, it’s an unlikely spot for anything culinary, a stretch of road that’s probably best known (in our house anyway) as being “the way you walk to Olympia”, and yet here we are. Faber Wine & Seafood Restaurant has the space and, frankly, long may that be the case.
The space is open, airy and flooded with natural light. There’s a distinct air of elegant seaside grand café to the room, or possibly even cruise ship. In either case, it’s a fitting setting for a fish restaurant.
I seem to have written a lot recently about the joys of simplicity, whether that’s a restaurant that’s simply utterly decent with no pretensions to be anything but, or a dish that’s taken a great ingredient, cooked it perfectly and simply, and left it to shine.
Faber Wine & Seafood Restaurant is all of the above and more. There are some cheffy flourishes where appropriate but it’s all understated and clearly done in the name of making everything taste better. For the most part, this is a kitchen that knows when to meddle and when to leave things alone. Given that the head chef is called, in my favourite recent example of nominative determinism, Ollie Bass that probably shouldn’t come as a surprise…
Food and drink at Faber Wine & Seafood Restaurant
So the food. We start with oysters, which are left to be oysters, with a simple mignonette. They’re terrific: creamy, clean, a flash of saline. They’re also available daily from 12-6 pm for £2 a pop, which is a very dangerous discovery. From there, it’s a slab of white crab, wild mushroom and potato terrine. It’s great, a tiny slick of yoghurt adding a little flash of creamy acidity that brings it all together.
At the insistence of a very amusing, very chatty, probably pleasantly tipsy neighbouring table, we move on to a dish of mussels, golden beetroot and lemon thyme. It arrives like a bouquet, with discs of beetroot tucked into each shell, held in place by a little sauce. On first bite, it feels like the hype squad may have oversold it… but then, with each subsequent bite, the subtle sweet / earthy combination of flavours builds to something that’s very, very good indeed.
From there, it’s to perhaps our favourite dish of the night, a cod cheek skewer, in a sourdough glaze, on a loose tartare sauce. It’s a lovely bit thing to eat. Rich, sweet, creamy, a hint of sharpness, a little bite of caper… we genuinely consider ordering two more for dessert. We don’t and, a couple of weeks on, I’m still not convinced we did the right thing.
Mains come from the specials board, which is where the dayboat catches can be found. Butterflied mackerel, shallots and sultanas is a super dish: fishy, smoky, sweet and savoury. Monkfish, sauce vierge is probably even better, and the epitome of what I wrote above, the knowing when to leave something alone and let your ingredients shine. It’s a dish of unassuming elegance and supreme confidence.
Alongside both we have what Faber is describing as #thosechips and, when a side has its own hashtag, you have to try them really. What arrives lurks somewhere between the ubiquitous triple cooked and the squidgy, fat nostalgia or the chip shop and, initially, they’re a little underwhelming. By the third one, however, and with a little splash of vinegar, we decide they’re worthy of their social media cult status.
Dessert is not – dammit – more cod skewers but is a very lovely honey tart, a sweet and pleasingly wobbly way to sign off a great dinner. Service – under GM Frankie – is superb. For the people of Hammersmith, it’s as good a local as you could ever hope for. For the people of London, it’s worth the tube ride. For anyone heading in for a concert at whatever the Odeon is currently called, allow yourself an extra couple of hours and thank me later. As for me, if you can’t find me and it’s a weekday between 12 and 6 pm, there’s a very good chance I’ll be in Faber giggling contentedly to myself.
Faber Wine & Seafood Restaurant
Welbeck Mansions, 206 – 208 Hammersmith Road
London
W6 7DH
United Kingdom
