Lene’s light-filled dining room.Eddie Jim A touch of shellfish theatre is the first clue to what you’re in for at Lene. A plate of scallops is rushed from grill to table,still audibly sizzling under umami-rich roast tomato butter,the shells too hot to touch. You’ll be thinking about ordering another before the plate has cooled. .
More intense yet refined flavours follow. A rarely seen whole flathead is grilled then amped up with garlicky butter,parsley and a generous grating of house-cured bottarga.
Wagyu flank shows up in a golden mushroom jus,stacked with blackened cremini mushroom clusters on a glossy sunflower cream. Offset it with a fresh and bitter tumble of properly dressed radicchio.
There’s a freewheeling independent charm that dominates not just the menu,but the space,with post-punk classics on the stereo and big,loud artworks dominating the room. In an era of polished corporate restaurants,it’s delightfully individual.