The vegan diet has faced its fair share of backlash, partially due to the rubbery slime that is Soysage, Tofurkey, and Facon. While we too, can resist ultra-processed faux meats injected with syrups and sodium, we feel it's our duty to argue for plant-based dining, which gets unfairly tarred by the same brush. "Too much leaf, not enough beef," will claim those who log their daily protein intake into their phones. In reality, when done well, plant-based dining isn’t restrictive. In fact, it's quite the opposite. It expands what you eat. It breathes a new lease of life into ingredients we might otherwise take for granted. Holy Carrot is an exemplar of just that, and their new Spitalfields location is quite a treat.
Holy Carrot Spitalfields is new on the scene, but in London, word spreads quick, and this restaurant is worth talking about. We arrived on a Thursday evening, the place already bustling. The first thing that struck me was the variety of our fellow diners. Couples on dates, post-work city slickers, large dinner parties. This restaurant is not reduced to merely an option for when a vegan friend comes to town. The meat-free menu is a feature, but not a selling point. The aesthetics are nothing short of beautiful. High ceilings, arched windows, and wooden finishes. The tables are dressed in white cloth with aluminium candlesticks. Hanging over the tiled bar is a bold mural of mushrooms in a vibrant pink backdrop, the coup de grâce of a very chic setting.
Holy Carrot claim a passion for showcasing the full potential of vegetables, and this is evident from the very first plate we were served: the pickled hors d'oeuvres. Each vegetable was still identifiable by its natural flavour despite the intense umami and subtle sweetness of the koji cure. I must note, this was served with a gluten-free sourdough that was so rustic and fluffy, with a crust so beautifully crisp, I had to double-check it was devoid of wheat, twice.
The opening pairing worked beautifully with our cocktails, concoctions that are named as they taste, as all cocktails should be. The Smoke, the Citrus, and the Umami are all far more clear-cut than something like a Velvet Sunset Flirt-ini, plus much easier to order without bruising your ego. We ordered one Floral and one Heat. Mine was bright with jasmine perfume, Carla's wam and with a significant hit of spice, but nothing a girl who came second at Wing Fest's Lava Wing Challenge couldn't handle.
Founder Irina Linovich has a love for growing, preserving, and foraging produce and as such, the menu is ever-evolving, guided by what’s fresh and in season. Meanwhile, Executive chef Daniel Watkins, co-founder of Acme Fire Cult, leads the kitchen. Passions combined, the menu is nothing short of a masterpiece, with live fire cooking unlocking depths of flavour from humble ingredients. This is further complemented by Holy Carrot's dedicated fermentation lab, where the duo work to find a purpose for every part of each ingredient, from the pickles for hors d'eaurves to the base of the pizettes, but more on that later.
Once the hors d'oeuvres were cleared, a plate with a generously-sized burrata ball sat atop a bed of lusciously smoked peppers arrived before us. A bright citrus dressing was drizzled over the dish, its sharpness cutting cleanly through the creaminess of today's cheesy obsession. In that moment, we found ourselves quietly grateful that this iteration of Holy Carrot has stepped beyond the rigid confines of veganism.
As mentioned earlier, the dough of the pizzettes and flatbreads is made using fermented ingredients, koji and silken tofu, resulting in a soft, airy base that's rich in protein. Topped with a baked egg, molten cheese, and a sprinkling of black pepper, the Khachapuri can easily be enjoyed solo without pushing its diner into a deep pit of sluggishness. I opted for the New Season Asparagus- a celebration of spring at its absolute finest. The al dente greens arrive on a bed of garden peas, butter beans, and a wonderfully silky miso bagna cauda that adds a caramelised depth to the dish. Having ordered asparagus for dinner, I wrongly assumed I would have ample room for dessert. However it turns out one does not require a chunk of meat on their plate in order to be deeply satisfied.
Regardless, we finished with a share of the Basque Cheesecake. Charred on the outside but as fluffy as a cloud within, and served with a rhubarb compote. Overindulgent? Perhaps, but most definitely worth it.
Holy Carrot Spitalfields has accomplished something that we're yet to see elsewhere in London. It has made plant-based dining feel less like a compromise, more of a genuine indulgence. It is sheer proof that the humble vegetable, in the hands of the right team, can be the pièce de résistance of a dish. For vegetarians and meat-eaters alike, this is one to add to your list.
