Owned and run by siblings Kirk and Keeley Haworth, Plates is a pioneering plant-based restaurant in Shoreditch, currently offering two fine dining tasting menus for £75 or £90 (a price I fully expect to increase soon).
Chef Kirk Haworth’s name may ring a bell with fans of the Great British Menu (GBM). In his return appearance earlier this year Kirk’s region was judged by chef Michael O’Hare, who scored him perfect tens for his “unbelievable” no-fish fish course, his “flawless” bean lasagne main and his banquet-winning dessert, which Andi Oliver described as “one of the best desserts I’ve ever had in my life”. He became the first fully plant-based chef to reach the banquet and, as an ultimate triumph, was voted Champion of Champions by the diners.
Kirk’s classically-trained background includes heavy hitters such as Pied à Terre, The French Laundry and Restaurant Sat Bains but his journey to cooking exclusively plant-based food is an unusual one. Eight years ago he was bitten by a tick and developed Lyme Disease, a debilitating auto-immune disorder, and found that he could manage his symptoms with a diet free from meat, fish, dairy, gluten and refined sugar. This discovery, mirrored in both siblings’ commitment to the importance of sustainability, completely changed the way Kirk approached food; he now aims to create a whole new genre of plant-based cookery.
I can’t shake the feeling that this is the start of a completely new direction for plant-based cooking
Plates exudes a calm, self-contained energy reflected in the quiet confidence of the cooking. The restaurant is intimate, with just 25 covers and a distinctive family-run feel; front of house staff are unfailingly warm, attentive and knowledgeable. Tables are cosy without being crowded and counter seating offers a view of the chefs at work, separated by the small bar area; the counter on the other side of the bar is the pass, so you get a great view of dishes being plated.
Happily for fans, several courses from the competition have found their way onto the menus. Kirk personally serves and explains one or two of the dishes to every diner, veering more towards unaffected northern hospitality than celeb chef meet-and-greet. It’s a nice touch and one which helped me realise why this particular fine dining environment feels so very relaxed; there’s a surprising lack of ego. The focus is firmly on the team and the bigger picture, to champion plants in a truly innovative, seasonal and flavour-focused way.
And so to the food. The first course was a seasonal snack of hibiscus and white tea granita, poached peach and soy custard, alongside a beetroot and buckwheat truffle (the latter best eaten in one go, as it is very delicate and its dramatic deep red filling best kept well clear of clothing). This small dish was a perfect introduction to the food at Plates. Each mouthful was an unexpected journey, with layers of flavour, texture and temperature coming to prominence at different times. Ingredients are pickled, poached, steeped, smoked, toasted and fermented; the granita had the freshness of white tea with a very subtle anise smokiness from barbecued fennel, the fruity, sweet-sharp hibiscus mellowed by the soft custard. I began to understand how this could only be a fine dining restaurant. The chefs’ prep and mise en place must be insane.
English tomatoes, house ricotta, raspberry and white kombu jam, frozen strawberry
‘Ability not disability’: Barbecued maitake mushroom, black bean mole, kimchi, aioli and puffed rice
Apricots, whipped custard and matcha, topped with shaved black truffle
Next came lightly-smoked Isle of Wight tomatoes, house ricotta (made from fermented cashew) and a raspberry, chia seed and white kombu jam, topped with shiso, grated frozen English strawberry and a basil reduction. I am a huge fan of dishes that flirt between sweet and savoury, and this was a masterclass. By rights, it should be almost impossible to balance but they have absolutely nailed it.
The laminated sourdough had the layers and textures of a croissant, from the crisp, golden shell to a softer, tearable centre. It was accomplished but, with the richness and complexity of the other dishes, I would have preferred something plainer. Is bread a course? This one probably is. The plant-based ‘butter’ was whipped coconut and olive oil, served on a chilled plate to maintain the texture. This was the only experience of the evening that just didn’t work for me; I was intrigued by the spirulina but could really only taste coconut and, without the luxurious mouthfeel of dairy, it felt a little thin.
The first of the dishes unique to menu two featured on the most recent series of GBM celebrating the GB athletes in the Olympics and Paralympics in Paris. ‘Ability not Disability’ is maitake mushroom which has been lightly smoked over hay and finished on the barbecue, house kimchi, Korean aioli, black bean and sesame seed mole, and puffed golden rice. It was one of my favourite courses and another Matryoshka doll of flavour; just when you think your mouthful is finished you taste another, more delicate, component, then another. It shows an orchestral level of skill, startlingly complex yet somehow never confusing; I don’t think I’ve eaten anything quite like it before.
The main course, ‘Feast of Farah’, was a mung and urad bean lasagne, served with miso and chive sauce, cucumber grilled and sprayed with white soy and smoked vinegar, rainbow chard and courgettes. The pasta, made from water, 00 flour and semolina with black charcoal powder for colour, was supple and silky and the bean-based filling intensely flavoured. It was everything you would want from a lasagne, all the heartiness and texture of a rustic meat ragu, yet with a completely modern presentation.
Pre-dessert ‘Ice Green Energy’ was a herbaceous ice cream with mint and spinach, diced fermented aloe vera, chewy beets and aronia berries. This split the GBM judges but I enjoyed it. The textures again were so interesting and the dance between the natural sweetness of beets and the tannic sharpness of the aronia berries (aka chokeberries) perfectly measured. I wouldn’t say there was a particular spinach flavour to the ice cream, but it was deliciously herbal and an impressive shade of green.
This was followed by the second additional dish from menu two, apricots and whipped custard and matcha, topped with shaved black truffle. Sustainability is very important to the Haworths and I asked how they planned to balance the inevitable long-term appeal of the GBM dishes with a menu which reflects the changing seasons. The answer is partly in the accompaniments to the key dishes which can be swapped out depending on the best available produce at the time plus dishes like this one, making use of (in this case) Australian truffles.
If you get the chance to go, drop everything and do it
Next, the dessert that earned four perfect tens from the GBM finals judges and crowned Kirk Champion of Champions at the banquet, ‘A Taste of Unity’. Raw cacao gateaux, sour cherries, toasted macadamia, ground African peppercorns and grated cacao is topped with coconut blossom ice cream made with cashew milk and oat crème fraîche. It’s then finished with an ingenious dairy-free raw caramel sauce made with maple syrup, coconut sugar, coconut oil and cacao butter. Thoughtfully constructed and delicately balanced, this was a stand-out dish; it is hard to believe it contains no refined sugar or dairy, it is so rich and sensuous. The caramel in particular is incredibly good.
Drinks-wise, the wine pairing is interesting and fairly-priced but the sommelier will happily advise on wines by the glass that will suit multiple courses. The Palate Campaign for Clear Ice is pleased to report that the ice is hand-carved and flawlessly clear, although my Negroni – albeit delicious, with the addition of aronia berry juice – was disappointing in presentation, with the merest sliver of ice and small scrap of orange peel.
It is almost a truism to say Plates is creative, clever and ambitious because it feels like it is genuinely breaking new ground. Yes it’s vegan, but without any of the political or moral rhetoric that can barge the actual food out of the spotlight. Yes the cooking is incredibly technically accomplished, but it’s the vision that is so mesmerising. I can’t shake the feeling that this is the start of a completely new direction for plant-based cooking and I’m very interested to see where the ripples lead – particularly long-term, as chefs that train here eventually leave to do their own thing.
Currently the restaurant is booked until mid-February 2025. They do encourage you to check for cancellations, which is always worth a shout – or you can just pray for a Christmas miracle. Either way, if you get the chance to go, drop everything and do it. Oh, and don’t miss that mushroom dish.
I’m putting it out there now: if Plates doesn’t get a Michelin star within a year, I will be amazed.
320 Old Street
London
EC1V 9DR
August 2024
