The Lock, Tottenham

North East London? You what?

If Le Terrazze can be considered unprepossessing (see May’s entry), then The Lock Dining Bar and Grill is right off the descriptive scale. Situated betwixt the industrial unpleasantries of east Edmonton and the urban grit of Walthamstow, and in the shadow of a newly built block of flats that will remain unsold for years to come, it is far from a location you would look to immediately as a centre of culinary excellence. (Unless you have, as does your author, a sneaking admiration for the Colonel’s secret recipe of eleven herbs and spices). Location aside, the building itself has nothing to recommend it; squat, ugly and uninviting, it actively advises you to leave without prejudice. This place will attract very little in the way of passing trade. And that, my darlings, is a crying shame, because hidden away amongst all this dreadful muck and oomskah is an absolute gem of a restaurant.


The interior is a large-ish room with sixteen or so tables that, rather like the exterior, works better by night. In the daytime it’s functional, if uninspiring. Of an evening, lit by candles, you might almost con yourself into believing you’ve escaped the nightmare of north east London that you’ve just rather upsettingly passed through. And then Fabrizio, the impossibly rotund maitre d’, brings you a menu, and suddenly you no longer need to suspend disbelief, because you’ve been whisked into the magical realm of proper food.


I don’t know about you, but I think you can tell an awful lot about what you’re about to eat from the menu. Too many dishes, too many clichés, too ambitious a price, too much verbiage (oh, the hypocrisy, not to mention the shameless *tautology*) and one immediately begins to worry. However, my reaction to something like this


“Poached smoked haddock on a fried Hen egg, frisée tips and herbs, Gavi de Gavi wine reduction and cream sauce”


is one of unrestrained, almost rabid delight. But maybe fish and cream isn’t your thing; perhaps this is more up your street.


“Salad of smoked wood pigeon, black pudding and caramelized pears in St Aubin Rhum Vanille Naturelle”

or

“Sautéed foie gras, savoury bread and butter pudding, pickled beetroot”


Although the above menu items have been cut and pasted direct from the Lock’s website, I confess that I might almost have quoted them verbatim, for I have now become something of a regular. Having eaten here ten, perhaps twelve times over the last couple of years, I have never been served anything less than very good, and frequently the food pushes through into the sublime. It is here that I have eaten lamb, not my favourite meat, so tender, so juicy, so RIGHT, that I almost cried. The haddock detailed is a perfect balance of salty fish, creamy sweetness and just a hint of acidity cutting through from the wine. Even the credit crunch busting “eat for a fiver” menu offers fare far superior to that found at four times the price in a plethora of samey, trappy affairs in town. Though to be honest, if you’ve made the effort to get here, you might as well choose a la carte – with starters at between £4-£7 and mains at £10-£17, this is not a bank breaking experience.


If I have a quibble, it’s that the sweets tend not to sparkle quite as much as the savouries. They’re competent and undeniably tasty, but rarely burst into the truly exquisite. Then again, at five pounds and under, you don’t really have solid grounds for complaint.


The wine list offers sufficient choice and very decent value, and there are some unusual and rather lovely Italians on there. Fabrizio seems as passionate about wine as he is about food, and happily shares his experience and advice.


The Lock might be rather out of the way, but seriously, don’t let that put you off. It’s worth the challenge - the food is superb, the service excellent, and the value undoubtable. If you don’t come here, you’re letting your friends down, you’re letting your family down, you’re letting the fans down; but most of all, you’re letting yourself down.