There’s an instantly soothing, unexpected simplicity at Chantelle Nicholson’s low-waste restaurant Apricity, Mayfair’s newest distinguished address a skip from Selfridges. Gentle and calm, its appeal is worthy of a description that extends beyond local and seasonal. I always love a reminder of how rich our language is, with so many underused words. Apricity, I discover, means the warmth of the sun in winter. And it certainly feels like a ray of sunshine in a part of town usually known for a shinier, showier or old-fashioned way of being. Circularity is the prevailing theme. The circular-economy approach is a welcome contrast to the maximalist, no-indulgences-spared offerings of this postcode. The rough-luxe looks are courtesy of a painstakingly low-carbon refit that resulted in pinkish patina’d plaster and upcycled masonry, enhanced with tumbling greenery and potted plants. Chairs are fashioned from decommissioned Coke bottles and the most pleasing aesthetic reminder that you’re somewhere fully eco yet free of hairshirts comes in the beautiful uniforms by Gung Ho. Even these stylish prints are textiles conjured from reincarnated PET bottles.
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Mushroom dish at Apricity, LondonClerkenwell boy
Food
New Zealand-born Chantelle won hearts as chef-proprietor of Tredwells in Covent Garden, and acclaim as a Green Michelin Star exemplar. An accessible yet advanced lesson in hyper-seasonal eating, this restaurant is a metanoia for those who associate refined dining with an altogether flashier experience. (Since we’re flexing under-exercised words, I love Greek-origin metanoia for meaning a shift in mindset.) This scaled-down site appeals to a more intimate eco-luxe experience. The menu created along with the wits of head chef Eve Seemann showcases small-scale producers and honest ingredients. We chose the five-course tasting menu with paired wines, though you can go à la carte or for a fuller seven courses. The pace and mostly vegan-friendly creations had us happy as a cat curled up in a rhombus of sun streaming in through the window. (And the official term for this, fellow word nerds, is apricating.)
The flavours are fresh as can be, as you’d expect with such hyper-local strictly seasonal provenance. The mushrooms supplied by Merit in Ellstree wowed not just because they were cooked and presented to rival a carnivore-pleasing main course, but thanks to hearing the passion of the growers. Slightly-charred umami-perfect miso cabbage was a reminder you don’t need produce to be exotic to feel extra special on the plate. Puddings are delicate, decadent and pack a punch. Who knew dark chocolate pudding, in this case with honeycomb and cashew cream, could be so joy-inducing?
