Chotto Matte, marylebone

Chotto Matte (££££)

Is Asian-South American fusion still in? Nobu, perhaps the most famous example of this, had its boom in the late 90’s and early 00's, but they’re still opening restaurants to this day. Nikkei cuisine (Japanese-Peruvian fusion) only goes back twenty to thirty years, a more modern example of fusion cuisine, seen by Japanese immigrants to Peru. The question ‘is it in’ isn’t a question of the quality of food; we can all agree there are some great restaurants out there, but more, are people still that excited to pay £20-30 for a small dish of fish?

So, is Nikkei still as popular as its 90s boom? When I first arrived at Chotto Matte, I thought 'maybe not’, with only one other table full, but as the night went on (and this is perhaps more in line with their self-proclaimed ‘electric atmosphere and vibrant space'), the tables slowly filled. As seems to be with many of these fusion restaurants, there seems to be an emphasis on loud and exciting spaces, with loud music, sharing plates, and modern design in the spotlight. The Marylebone Chotto Matte seems to balance this excitement well with its neighbourhood, sophisticated and clean decor—in one word, ‘expensive’. For what is actually quite a small restaurant, the use of mirrors or sofas makes it seem much larger than it actually is.

Once seated, the first question we were asked was ‘would we like to try the house cocktail’? Well, yes, obviously. Mere moments later, then, did a Pisco sour turn up. With an excellent sour in hand, we finally turned to the menu. Whilst Nikkei cuisine itself isn’t too broad, you can see the Nobu influences from Head Chef (and ex-Nobu) Kurt Zdesar. Our waiter helpfully outlined the menu for us and the ‘journey’ we would go on—namely, raw, to tempura, to sushi, meats, and then dessert. With a recommended four-to-five dishes per person, we tried to get a range of what Chotto Matte offers (and at £15-£30 a dish) not break the bank (although spoiler alert, the Wagyu we did indulge in did just that).

Arriving first was a beautiful plate of Sea Bass ceviche. Very much swimming in the Leche de Tigre marinade, it had bold and punchy acidic flavours, although balanced well by the sweetness of the sea bass itself. Texturally too, you had a variety to experience: the crunch of the corn, softness of the potato, and melt-in-the-mouth of the fish. Wise that we were advised to finish this before trying other dishes, as not many other dishes could hold up the complexity of flavours it presented.

Next to arrive was the o-toro sashimi, five generous cuts, each topped with the lightest bit of wasabi and dressed in soy. The o-toro buttery, the soy, and the wasabi did their jobs, elevating the fish without compromising the flavour. While finishing off our sashimi, one of the dishes I was most excited for arrived. Four small bites, finely chopped salmon and caviar, garnished delicately, atop milk toast. Most unexpected was the smokey flavour the salmon had, with the smoke the main flavour that carried the dish. Was I expected (or hoping) for a lighter, more delicate taste? Slightly. Did it overpower the caviar? It did. Still very enjoyable, just not what I was expecting.

Next came the first performance of the night, A5 Wagyu, foie gras, dressed in soy, flamed tableside. Bringing the dish over, our host advised that he would ‘lightly’ torch it, to both provide a slight char flavour and also to enhance those flavours already there. Thinly cut, any torch would cook through the meat, but that by no means left the meat any less soft. The light torching, then, turned out to be a blowtorch for around ten to fifteen seconds per piece, perfectly timed to cook and caramelise the foie gras and infused flavours of the soy into the Wagyu. Buttery will be a well-used word in this review, but was again apt here. Both texture and flavour gave these notes a clear indication of quality, garnish, and cooking.

The arrival of our prawn tempura marked a departure from the raw section of the meal and onto more ‘complex’ dishes. With a wonderfully crispy coating holding a perfectly soft and well-cooked tiger prawn, the batter was well seasoned, and the ponzu garnish carried through an acidity that was seen through nearly all dishes on the menu. Wanting a bit of a break from all the meat and fish heavy dishes, our el jardin roll arrived next. Boy choi, sisho, and cauliflower, rolled on well (but not the best I’ve had) seasoned sushi rice, topped with tomato and corn—visually the most fusion we’ve seen. It wasn’t the most exciting dish we have had, and it seems that vegetarian dishes were put on as more of an option than a serious contender, but it was fresh, although it was also the only dish we didn’t finish.

Coming towards the end of our meal, our heaviest (and most expensive) dish arrived. Accompanied by king oyster mushroom tostadas, our 140 grammes of A5 Wagyu sirloin were brought over. Much like our other A5 Wagyu, this was also flamed tableside—I'm beginning to believe there’s no other way to cook Waygu! With a pot of truffled teriyaki jus and a small mound of flakey salt, the Wagyu was perfectly cooked, falling apart in your mouth, and with a rich and deep flavour. For me, a small sprinkling of salt was all it needed, although the occasional dip in the jus reminded you how well the steak can pair with other flavours. To meet the quality of the steak was the tostada side. A deep smokey flavour, the mushrooms took on the flavour of smoke and chilli well, with the occasional dots of guacamole to provide a sweetness. The perfect side for the steak, it was Nikkei cuisine as its finest, bold Peruvian ingredients and influences challenging traditionally subtle Japanese flavours.

Exhausted by the meats and fish of the meal, we ended on a sweeter note. A passionfruit creme brûlée, with a punchy sake poached pineapple, and three scoops of sorbet, perfectly refreshing. The journey of the meat was well thought out and it was clear that the restaurant truly knew what they were doing. The transition from raw to fried to sushi to meats allowed you to build up your pallet, building on flavours and not ruining the next dish.

Was Chotto Matte still ‘in’, then? Well, the food was excellent—that wasn’t in doubt. Sure, I could have guessed the dishes, but they were done well, and by the end of the evening, the packed tables proved people know what they want. Would I have liked to be a little more amazed? A little. Would I go again? Probably, yes. If you know more inventive Nikkei restaurants, then let me know, but I don’t think the days of Japanese-Peruvian are over any time soon.