As you step into Milk Beach, the contrast to the pounding sights and smells of Soho is almost disorienting. Dark exteriors and neon signs are soon replaced by cream tilling and palm trees. Smiley staff, adorned in white, spa-like uniforms, welcome you to this ‘slice of Sydney’.
Aiming to try each section of the menu, we started with the raw offering. Jersey rock oysters were treated well, arriving atop a cup of sake and a soothing Thai cucumber consomme. Kingfish crudo, topped with strawberry kosho and wasabi, was deliciously fresh, although somewhat diluted by its superfluous bath of macadamia milk.
As vegetable dishes go, aubergine karaage is a bold choice. Here, its high water content yielded mushy results, although the various crunchy toppings helped. A fried potato and buttermilk ‘gem’ was similarly soft, lacking the crispiness its billing promised.
Just as the restaurant’s initial charm was starting to wear off, Milk Beach played its trump card - or rather, cards. Four modest dumplings for £9.50 might sound steep, but these were no ordinary dumplings. Thanks to painstaking barbecuing of the pork rib within, not to mention a stellar pho-style consomme, each plump cushion was a cosmic experience. Fermented chilli butter prawns had a similar effect, their charred heads easily sliding off to reveal more funky, fiery goodness. A sommelier-selected, mineral-rich Sicilian orange was the perfect accomplice, keeping pace throughout.
The final flourish was perhaps the most surprising. ‘Golden Gaytime’, an Aussie choc ice-type lolly, was reinvented here with toffee and buttermilk parfait, malt and honeycomb crumble and dark chocolate, and really did feel like the ‘slice of Sydney’ we were promised. At £35 a head for food, Milk Beach isn’t unreasonable, but the earlier half of the menu feels like it could do with some tweaking. In the meantime, we’ll happily stop by for more dumplings and dessert.