As younger siblings go, The Barbary Next Door has a punchy personality despite its petite stature (pretty typical). The tiny candle-lit space is crammed with eager guests drunk on the promise of some of London’s best Middle Eastern food, a crowd that emits a happy hum punctuated by one liners from the funny, friendly team.
Those familiar with The Barbary’s style will recognise much of the same cookery here, albeit in a slightly more casual format. There are just ten seats and food comes quickly to help diners stick to their strict timeslot. Things kick off with bread and dips, but hold the thought of hummus, this isn’t your average mezze. A pillow of steaming Afghan khobz bread – you pronounce the k, FYI – was accompanied by Zaalouk (a rich slow-cooked garlicky tomato dip) and Machluta (a smoky chargrilled courgette concoction mixed through yogurt).
Larger plates included an incredibly fresh, thickly cut ‘Sunset’ crudo that was well seasoned and lifted with coriander oil and citrus notes as well as fine slices of chilli. The Barbary Next Door is the kind of small plates place where you simultaneously want to try every tiny creation and also wish for main-course portions of each dish because actually you’ve changed your mind and don’t want to split the spoils with your dining companion after all. A dilemma of the highest order. Other highlights included a ‘burnt ends’ style ox tail stew and sweet chicken pastilla pastries topped with cinnamon and icing sugar for an oddly addictive sweet and savoury twist.
The kitchen team work methodically from their position at the end of the room while the front of house staff keep things ticking over drinks-wise at the bar. A collection of pretty vintage glassed are dished out and topped up with interesting wines, never lying empty for long, plus there’s a really good lemon and mint soft serve too.
So, the big question remains, is the youngest member of the Barbary family destined for favourite-status? Maybe, but you didn’t hear it from us.