» Santiago restaurant, Brighton seafront
Andrew Kay’s tongue goes dancing at Santiago on Brighton seafront
Of all the cuisines in the world my least favourite has always been Mexican. Oh I can cook a mean Texan chilli for sure but most of what is presented on a plate under the name of Mexico looks like it has been reheated if not regurgitated several times.
I did however have a real soft spot for El Taco Way on the lower promenade on Brighton’s seafront. Here, in the summer months only, I would happily sit down to a Dos Equis and a plate of tortilla chips with splodges of ‘stuff’. It wasn’t great food but it had the best atmosphere.
Now El Taco Way has been replaced by Santiago, and the Mexicana replaced by a far more sophisticated menu of modern cooking. There is also indoor seating which I am sure I never saw in the former incarnation, so the plan is to stay open all year.
I arrived with Mr E, unsure of what to expect, but I was pleasantly surprised to find an old foodie friend waiting table and a chef who I have praised before rattling the pots and pans.
We went inside – there was a heck of a wind blowing – and took a seat upstairs. What a view; waves crashing on pebble, the stripped carcass of the once proud West Pier stooped and forlorn. I reckon the only worthwhile sea views in Brighton are from the beach.
Regulars might by now be worrying that the detailed environmental report is here to diffusea disappointing meal. None of it. The meal was first class. I know that I can waffle about wallpaper when the nosh is below par, but not this time, it’s just that the location is worth a mention.
“I was lured by the promise of morcilla – Spanish black pudding served with scallops and minted pea puree”
So on to the food. Mr E started with a massive plate of fried chorizo with white beans, a sturdy dish indeed and one that he made rapid inroads into. I was lured by the promise of morcilla – Spanish black pudding served with scallops and minted pea puree. I prayed it was Spanish because they have a soft, creamy texture, far less firm than a Bury berry. I am pleased to report that it was really smashing.
Mr E moved on to slow-cooked belly of pork with a bean stew. Not exactly well-planned on his part – two portions of beans – but another impressive and robust dish, the size of which actually defeated him.
I chose haddock in a pink peppercorn crust with a warm potato salad. I love haddock, more character than cod by a long chalk and as yet not endangered I hope. I also love pink pepper berries, as I think they are called. This was a great dish and reminded my why I had enjoyed this chef’s work in the past. The fish to start with was a thick slice of fillet, cooked to perfection; flaky but still moist. The potato salad was good too and pleasantly restrained in its seasoning. I mention this because it provided a perfect background against which to enjoy the crust.
Now crusts on food can turn me on or make me sick. Nothing is worse than a slab of compacted breadcrumb baked on to the surface of food and thus forming a heat impervious barrier. I have suffered too often from raw lamb fat on crusted racks. Get it right though and it‘s heaven, which is exactly what this was. The crumb mix was as light as fairy dust, the seasoning quite brilliant, with a perfect balance of sweet and salt that had my tongue dancing. It was crisp too and in a fine layer that had not denied the fish inside some proper heat. I hope the chef will forgive me for copying the dish at home, or at least trying to.
To drink I chose a bottle of rioja that was as smooth as a red coat’s patter and far more entertaining. Spanish tempranillo works excellently well with white fish and with pork – it works brilliantly with chorizo and morcilla too.
Too full for dessert really, but ever watchful of the needs of my readers we took a look at the menu and piled in. Mr E having failed to finish his main could not resist a dish of eggy bread made with brioche and served with red fruits and ice cream.
I chose Catalan cream which is closer to our own creme bruleè than to Spain’s other notorious pudding flan. Flan in Spain (unlike the sponge jobs our mothers bought and filled with tinned mandarins under a jelly glaze with whipped cream. What do you mean your mother didn’t make fruit flans?) is a custard affair often thickened with cornflour as well as eggs and as a consequence it is truly dismal. Here the Catalan cream was a perfect eggy custard flavoured with orange flower water with a crisp sugar topping. If I have one criticism of the entire meal it would be the sugar topping which was a tad gritty and not caramelised enough for my taste. A tiny complaint and one that I hope does not offend.
Coffee was good, piping hot espresso always makes me smile and yes I do dip sugar cubes in it and crunch them as they melt.
Maybe the memory of El Taco Way is seen through the rose-tinted spectacles of lost romance. Santiago is much, much better and certainly makes better use of the location and for longer each year.
Santiago, King’s Road Arches, Brighton. 01273 710031.
