Akub Restaurant

Authentic Flavors Blend with Stunning Ambiance

Nestled in the shaded alleyways of chic Notting Hill, Akub is a gastronomic homage to Palestine, delivered with a flourish that manages to respect tradition while politely poking it in its ample belly. Treading through its doors, you're met with a minimalist explosion—yes, it is an oxymoron, and yes, they pull it off—with decor nodding just forcefully enough to Palestinian heritage without accidentally knocking the old girl over. The arches, beautifully designed, mimic historical architecture, and there's even an olive tree on guard, perhaps to ensure our souls remain suitably nourished in lieu of any calorific felonies committed on the plates before us. Those fearing a gilded cage have nothing to worry about; there's no hint of stuffiness among the easy banter of service staff reminiscent of an elaborate Michelin-studded edition of 'Come Dine With Me' attended by charm incarnate.

The food? Just a labyrinth of flavours—grilled cheese that scandalously usurps its bland English cousin and appetisers so inventive they've probably got no idea bacon was even relevant once upon a time. The zaatar bread comes on like a Midwestern American greeting and goes beautifully with the diasporic dips showcasing Middle Eastern warmth. Now, let’s pivot to my personal highlight: the mafghoussa confessed cornucopia, kudos to whomsoever squashed those courgettes into yogurt-rich assent. I'll admit it—a checked-with pride lineup with curious small plates left me victoriously sprawled over a lingering chat at a table full of aromas and fragments of conversation-choked laughter. But do brace yourself for the halved potions compared to eye-watering menu prices. Still, in this tale woven with chic urbanity, chewy Sanscrit leaves, and splendidly expectant claims, Akub cordially forgives itself with warmth and sorrow absent artisan foibles recorded only in triumphant memories of food garnered blessings. — Penelope Savory