Bright

Bright, Hackney, London

There are a collection of restaurants in East London that in my head just blur into one slightly confusing farm-to-table blob. Bright, Brawn, Brat, Rochelle, Pidgin, Angelica, Angelina, you give me a consonant, I’ll give you a restaurant.

I know it’s ridiculous to lump some of the best restaurants around into one homogenous category, but I genuinely do find it hard to distinguish between them. Call me a philistine but in my late-night musings I scribbled down the key requirements of the aforementioned blob:

Exposed brick dining room with or without stark white tablecloths & reclaimed wooden furniture. Diners wearing lots of linen and neutral tones - think Olive or Toast. Negronis. Dishes with max 2 to 3 ingredients e.g. ‘artichoke with olive oil and salt’ or ‘red mullet and onion’. And a sharing meat/fish centerpiece that costs over £100.

So a quick spin of the London Overground roulette wheel and this week we land on Bright, the self-styled neighbourhood wine bar and restaurant.

The vibe.

“I feel very cool”, my friend said as we crossed the threshold into Bright. Cool can be elusive, but in the case of Bright there was a genuine air of it. Perched atop a high bar stool I took a moment to peruse the view, during which I found a restaurant filled exclusively with ridiculously good looking people. Truly not a duff one for miles.

Bright is Scandi meets New York packaged in a neat industrial studio space. An imposing glass façade opens up the venue, which on first glance could be mistaken for a SOAS postgrad debate club, where small groups of young upstarts debate the merit of Corbyn’s leadership of the Labour Party.

The service was attentive and warm, in an edgy neighborhood wine bar kind of way. Our waitress was wonderful, and completely at ease telling us all the reasons we should have a glass of this particular high skin contact small batch organic orange wine At the same time, I was under no illusions that she was off to a rave in Hoxton in about an hour and a half and her mind was already on the dancefloor popping a pinger.

The food.

While elements of the food were delightful, Bright’s goal to deliver simple, well executed dishes was hindered by… its goal to deliver simple, well executed dishes.

I am all for simplicity. Simplicity has had a renaissance that has swept the London food scene by storm. From eco- influencers who proudly rear their own fruit and veg, to swathes of restaurants proclaiming that their small plate menus are both bountiful but firmly restricted by seasonality, simple is in.

But here’s the catch, if you’re going to charge £18 for asparagus, it better be good.

So we eat. The bread - which was close to an Irish wheaten bread - was presented alongside a salpicon of Cornish skate with tomatoes and capers. Delightful. A modern take on a seafood salad, the salpicon was saucy and vibrant and the bread hearty and moorish.

To follow, more bread, this time served with ricotta and… yeah just ricotta. I’m biting my tongue because you literally can’t go wrong with bread and ricotta but am I wrong to feel that it’s just a little lazy?

Next followed the wildly cryptic courgette with anchovy. I was intrigued when ordering this, scrolling through my gourmet rolodex to try and decipher what exactly what this dish could entail. Turns out it was a grilled courgette with an anchovy on top.

The penny really dropped when our Iberico pork with grilled beans arrived, which took the form of… a piece of pork and some grilled beans The pork was outrageous; a truly stunning cut which was beautifully cooked. The problem was that I didn’t exactly long for a tart broad bean while chowing down on a piece of glistening Iberico. Did I mention this plate cost £30?

We finished with pork ragu tagliatelle and zucchini flowers. Not considering the fact we might be a bit porked out, there was a real lack of substance to this dish. In fact, it was quite stark. A lot of salt, but quite empty.

The verdict.

I was disappointed by Bright. The menu lacked balance across the board with no stand out dishes. Much of what we ate needed more oomph and I’m loathed to say, it all felt a little bit like a less innovative version of Brat.

I am hopeful that it might just have been a bit of a duff night, but I can’t help but come back to the fact that they stuck half an anchovy on a courgette, called it a dish and pumped it out for a tenner. Stick a fork in me, I’m done!

Was the food stunning 3/5 – A cold hug, like Voldemort wrapping you in a sweet embrace

The vibe 4/5 – many a couple destined for their house to be one day featured on Grand Designs

Scream factor 3/5– You’ll find me on the corner of my road flogging anchovies and courgettes

Pricey – absolutely

Would you recommend to someone you just met at a party – I’d probably accidentally tell you I went to Brawn