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Rarely has an opening been as thirsted for as the long-awaited new restaurant from Sertaç Dirik. For those who haven’t been paying close attention to nitty gritty of the London dining scene, Sertaç is the twinkling boy wonder who resuscitated his dad’s Dalston kebab joint with ultra-cheffy, Copenhagen-honed technique, all done while sporting a commendable range of 1990s metal and punk t-shirts.
It’s now been almost three years since Sertaç left Mangal 2, presumably taking his sweet time to ensure his solo debut was just-so. Named after the menu’s headline act of slow-cooked goat, Kid could easily refer to Sertaç himself; still only 30, but generally accepted as one of the UK’s greatest young chefs. Wisely, he hasn’t gone it alone, joining forces with hospo big gun David Carter, founder of fire-fed heavy hitters Manteca, Oma and Agora. Much like Carter’s acclaimed roll-call, Kid is all about smokey, flame-licked food. In fact, entering the brooding restaurant, with its dark brick walls and back-lit collection of urns, feels a lot like we’ve stepped inside an actual kiln.
Where Mangal 2 was a workaday canteen, Kid offers a more sensual backdrop, with a charcoal grill as its mission control. There's an earthy main dining area, an intimate, clubbier room facing Frith Street and a handful of counter seats for a direct view of the action. But you don’t need to see the grill to taste its power; deeply juicy and rudely thick slices of sucuk sausage come with grilled peach, which turns out not to be whole fruit, but an elite brown sauce which hums with all the fun of the harvest fayre. We’re not sure if we should mention the courgette flower, as it’s now out of season and coming off the menu asap, but it’s so divine we have no choice. Stuffed with molten goat’s cheese, the whole thing is flash fried, draped with honey and remarkably un-soggy. The enthusiastic squirt of cheese that covers the table when we start to eat only adds to the excitement.
The taste of smoke lingers like the smell of cigs in your hair before the smoking ban
Plump, greased and salted pide is a throwback to Sertac’s tenure at Mangal 2, but at Kid his dip game has truly levelled up; smoked aubergine is swirled through garlic yoghurt, with crispy grains and shoestring fries adding to the textural bonanza. It’s a high-end baba ghanoush wearing its finest frock. At Kid, Anatolian classics are glammed up and ready for the ball.
A flaky borek the size of a baby's head full of beyaz peynir cheese is trad Turkish cuisine in all but girth, but it’s the mini-meat skewers that prove we’re truly playing with the big boys. Sweetbreads honk with gamey goodness, like candyfloss made of innards, pink and delicate to look at, filthy and fabulous to taste. Beta-cuck diners need not apply. It comes with grilled onions, charred to blackness at the edges, the taste of smoke lingering like the smell of cigs in your hair before the smoking ban.
Our main event is a blistered but still shimmering mackerel, cooked in tribute to Istanbul’s ‘galata’ wrap, minus the bread but with a succulent shredded salad underneath. A side of greens drip in pomegranate molasses. Everything is just sweet enough. In fact, sweetness is pared back for desserts. It’s the unique, piney taste of mastica that runs through a finale of mint ice cream and a clever baklava laced with cherry doesn’t overwhelm with tooth-tingling sugar. We finish in the only acceptable way; with a glass of raki and the promise to immediately return.
The vibe A moody dining room in Soho with one of London’s best chefs cooking up a storm on a charcoal grill.
The food Turkish classics done with flair.
The drink Fabulous eastern European wines by the glass or bottle. Cocktails also come with a Turkish twist; do try the heavenly Cosmopolitan made with orange wine.
Time Out tip A users note; the door to the restaurant is not on the corner of Frith Street. It’s actually down on Bateman Street. Do not, like us, smash your hand into an immovable glass pane and turn the colour of a beetroot as you realise your mistake.