Junsei London proves that yakitori isn’t just delicious – it’s sexy.
As a Londoner, a natural righteousness resides in me when I reflect on my food knowledge. I live in one of the most multicultural cities in the world – how could I not be clued up on all cuisines the globe has to offer?
Take, for example, Japanese food. I’ll happily try any piece of sushi on the menu. I’ll order udon noodles, beef bulgogi and kimchi with a smug smile. But yakitori, literally translating to grilled chicken is barely glanced at – shunned in favour for its more exotic, sophisticated-sounding counterparts. Then came Junsei.
The Atmosphere
Dimmed, golden lights glow against the wooded interior, the sizzle of hot coals whispering into the air like a fresh batch of steam in a sauna. Whilst Junsei is no doubt glamorous, there’s something homely about it. Perhaps it’s the aromas of freshly grilled chicken. Or perhaps it’s the incredibly friendly staff, who present you with a warm towel as soon as you’re sat. Either way, I feel relaxed, exactly how I want to be before devouring countless plates of food.
Junsei opened its doors three years ago during the height of the pandemic. It was a feat for many restaurants to keep their doors afloat at this time, let alone build new ones from scratch. The fact that Junsei is flourishing is a clear testament to its quality.
Being the nosy diner I am, I sat at the bar, overlooking the Binchõtan charcoals. After being told their coals are sourced from Japanese oak – renowned for their purity – I felt a strong disdain for my own, regular BBQ coals. Our chef dextrously played with the embers, slapping sauces, and precisely shaking seasonings into the food – it all flowed like a dance. While it definitely looked like hot work, he seemed unbothered, frequently stopping to answer my well-meaning, but likely tiresome questions, I may admit.
Junsei London’s Drinks
Even though Junsei’s cocktail selection is small on their menu, quality stands over quantity – which, in their case, it does. The recipes change every two weeks or so. This is good – it shows there’s thought behind the cocktails.
Though I am slightly perturbed when a Smurf-coloured cocktail arrives at the table, my doubts are quickly soothed by the silky, yuzu-flavoured foam resting atop a thin layer of ice. Garish this cocktail may be, but its flavours are subtle, akin to a key lime pie.
A rose-coloured beverage also arrives, more bashful than its blue cousin. Infused with kimchee syrup, she’s a dark horse, and packs a punch alongside the salt foam that floats on top.
Junsei clearly gives thought to its wine and sake; the wonderful Rizwan (GM of Junsei) guided us through the wine list, recommending a pinot grigo-reisling blend, crisp, aromatic, and the ideal pairing for the Omakase I was about to tackle.
The Food
I’m a big fan of letting the chef choose my food. My indecisiveness can make me a troublesome diner, umming and ‘arring’ over how I can maximise my dining experience. The Omakase menu, which takes you on a yakitori train with a few extra tit bits, took all the pressure off me. It’s a hard life.
Thus began the experience. Plate after plate was served; wings, breast, heart, all received a loving dash on the coals before finding their way onto my chopsticks. Junsei don’t care if you’re squeamish. For them, the whole bird should be used. And, if you can get me to actually enjoy chicken’s heart, whilst supporting a zero-waste policy, then I am a big supporter.
The chicken, expertly grilled, was soft, juicy, and coated in their sweet, sticky homemade sauce with overtones of that beautiful Binchõtan charcoal.
Fish also made a welcome appearance: tuna crudo, lavish with caviar, on crispy sushi rice opened our evening. Yuzu-dressed yellowtail, as fresh as you can find in central London, cleansed the palette.
Much to our delight, a steaming bowl of rice also joined, topped with the silkiest wagyu strips I’ve tasted. An egg yolk was nestled in, making my usual dippy eggs and soldiers seem a little pathetic. Breakfast will never be the same.
To round off the feast, a little spoon of yuzu and grape granita was presented. Clearly, my hesitation about the size was picked up by Rizwan; ‘a palette cleanser,’ he announces with a wink. Fresh and light, my palette is sufficiently cleansed, ready for one last sinful dunking – a creamy bowl of ricotta, studded with fresh fruit and sweetened with kuromitsu, a malty Japanese sugar syrup.
Next Time, Junsei London
There are, of course, plenty of other delicious sounding dishes which I only wish I had room for. Lobster Salad with Caviar Mayo, Char Sui Pork, and Beef Tongue? Daring – yes. Delicious, most definitely.
Next time, Junsei London.
Great For: Understated, intriguing dining.
What to Order: The Omakase tasting menu.
Why Go? To experience the theatre of a Japanese grill.
To discover more visit junsei.co.uk
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All imagery courtesy of Junsei London.