Balans is a storied name among Soho restaurants and almost synonymous with Old Compton Street. The original owners Sally & Prady Balan and Charles Cotton set up a late night café at 34 Old Compton Street in 1987, and in 1990 David Taylor joined when Charles moved to New York. This was an interesting time in Soho which I remember well, having bought a flat just off Dean Street in the mid-1990s. I was splitting time between London and New York, and when Balans opened up a larger venue at No.60 it was the first place that reminded me of the New York Brasserie, L’Odeon, which was opposite my place in Tribeca. All day and most of the night food and drink, a mix of gay, straight, the simply confused and the seriously beautiful. This was London emerging into the fun of the last few decades from its previous pallor.
To put it in context, the Porn Star Martini was popularised in No.60 following its invention by Douglas Ankrah, a legendary bartender at near neighbour Lab on Old Compton Street. Lab was great and I drank far too many of his Absolutely Crusheds back then – Absolut vodka with cumquats. Lethal. When having a drink at No.60 after a shift sometime, Douglas gave the recipe for Porn Star to the bartender and it became quite the thing at Balans No.60. They have since served over a quarter of a million of them and always faithfully follow Douglas’ instruction – Champagne shot, not Prosecco.
No.60 has now been refurbished and revamped with a new menu which is very much in keeping with its history and character. The room itself has come out looking a little bit more structured than the random scattering of small and large tables of yore. There is a properly long bar done one side (it is Soho after all) with the middle carved up by a line of semi-height booths – a great idea as, well, everyone likes a booth, but everyone also wants to people-watch… and then more conventional seating along the other side and by the window. Great artwork, fun feel. All good to go.
And the menu does indeed go. The key to a place like this is, I think, getting the balance right between offering something interesting while making sure that people actually want to eat the food that is offered, given that some punters may be, on occasion, and I say this without judgment, somewhat the worse for wear. They have nailed it.
Take torched Baron Bigod, which is a Brie-style cheese made in Suffolk, served lightly torched with Korean spiced honey and a hand-made kale & linseed cracker. A fancy and delicious version of cheese and biscuits. Interesting and comfort food in one. Or a truffle chicken taco with parmesan and oat-crusted buttermilk chicken, cream cheese, and drizzled with a truffle & marjoram honey. Don’t you just want to eat that now? Even my companion’s restrained hot smoked salmon with various grains and a lemon and pomegranate dressing was opulent rather than austerely worthy.
Now these were washed down with drinks, and as ever the test was can they make a perfect dry martini. And reader I can confirm that (to my complete lack of surprise) they can indeed. The vermouth had barely kissed the ice such that the telltale jolt to the system was quickly delivered. Sensing their strength we wisely stuck to beers thereafter.
For mains, we eschewed the pan-roasted sea bream with roasted Jerusalem artichokes, cavolo nero and a mussel and chive cream sauce, the No.60 burger (which you just know will be great) and even the wintery dish of beef & pistachio filo pie – a properly intriguing mix of ground beef flavoured with aromatic Persian spices and pistachios, served with a light aubergine purée, charred tender stem broccoli & tahini dressing for octopus and steak. Specifically, I had grilled Galician octopus, torched pepper relish and a chickpea stew, served with jalapeño & cheese cornbread. The octopus itself was nicely charred yet soft and clear in flavour, while the stew had unexpected spice and heft. Very filling, and left that telltale tingle around the mouth. My companion had 28-day aged rib-eye steak, smoked bone marrow butter, burnt onion and mushroom ketchup, hand-cut chips and truffle mac & cheese. I just about heard the word “awesome” as he disappeared into it face down. I managed to snaffle a bit of steak and a couple of chips and can see why. I loved the burnt onion and mushroom ketchup too.
Finally, to puddings, which at that stage felt like almost a stretch too far but we persevered in the name of completeness. The cheesecake in particular was excellent – with a proper Manhattan firmness. If you can then I recommend them, but portions are so generous here you may not make it.
Sitting back (no other movement possible) it was great to see that a place like this, a living part of Soho’s history and fabric, has pulled off the trick of reinvention to maintain relevance while still remaining undisputably Soho. Love it.
Related post: Restaurant Review – L’atelier de Joel Robuchon