Krokodilos , a new Greek restaurant, has spread out its tail and claws in Kensington. This sleek, moderately fancy celebration of all things from Athens to the coast of Crete is currently working hard to channel a sun-kissed sojourn on the Aegean, in winter, in London.
Yet step inside, away from the concrete and drizzle outside, and the place is airy, opulent and verging on the semi-Californian. This is movie-set Greece hewn in tones of dappled, early evening Athenian sunshine, all bronze, peach, tan and gold, and enhanced with tasteful lighting, velvety soft furnishings and comfortable leather banquettes.
Before I walked in, I was just a woman in thermals with a flaky nose, but then — bang! All this and a kitchen headed by Angelos Togias , ex of the Connaught , and with a clear vision to honour the many wonderful things about modern Greek cooking and ingredients. How about the fuller, fruitier aroma of the Mitira Lesvos?
As a non-drinker nowadays, I found the ceremony of the experience rather delightful — why do we reserve such nerdiness mainly for wine? From the dozen or so starter options, some are instantly recognisable. That apparently predictable taramasalata, by the way, is miles away from the pink, whiffy mush to which we have somehow grown tolerant as a nation. The mains menu is equally enthralling.
I began with aplomb, dipping the remains of my wild mushroom-topped flatbread into the sauce, but things got messy very soon thereafter. We also cleared a kar idopita chocolate and walnut cake with kaimaki ice-cream. Krokodilos is flying way under the radar right now, possibly due to its location, the time of year and the fact that its owners have opened so many places at roughly the same time.
