Filly Brook

Superb Vibes with Unforgettable Flavours!

Ah, the whims of serendipity led me into the embrace of this delightful locale—a Middle Eastern-inflected refuge nestled inconspicuously in the bustling chaos of East London. I sauntered in on a Sunday, only to be greeted by aromas you'd think were concocted exclusively by celestial beings armed with harissa and aubergine. The menu was an exercise in joyful restraint, offering a tantalizing array of sharing plates that flirted mercilessly with our palates. Particularly enchanting were those triple-cooked potatoes; each bite appeared to narrate the minimalistic beauty of gastronomy. For the adventurous in spirit or just those who’ve tired of the traditional Sunday roast, their inventive Mediterranean spin should prompt a slow applause.

The atmosphere was effortlessly cultivated, like a Gatsby soirée tempered with equally bohemian calm, subtly goaded along by excellent vinyl selections from the DJ. Service was exemplary too, striking that rare balance between attentive and invisible, and thereby averting any faux pas typically associated with gastronomic disruptions. The orange wine, served in generously proportioned carafes, soon became our new standard-bearer for social lubricants. With prices that didn't necessitate a second mortgage—quite the miraculous feat for London—the place felt accessible and indulgent all at once. And sure, not every dish didn't strike perfect harmony (the saltcod might have confided in a salt shaker a tad too much), but this fallibility was a mere whisper amidst an opera of vigorous flavors. Long may this marvelous eatery reign undiscovered on many a map. — Penelope Savory