Morchella

Morchella comes from the same people as Perilla and, like there, this modern Mediterranean restaurant in Clerkenwell feels like a dinner party hosted by someone with serious opinions on Diptyque scents. The ceilings are high, the David Mellor cutlery is chunky, and the cloudy Greek white goes down a treat. And, for all its aspirational style, Morchella is full of flavourful substance too. 

You can use the sleek, Scandi-ish feeling room a few ways: solo at the counter with its nifty fold-out stools and entertaining cutlery drawers, along the banquettes with friends, or cosying up in one of the booths. That said, much of this restaurant is filled with dates. The kind who look like they either write, feature in, or subscribe to Vogue.

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

With salt cod churros, parmentier potatoes, and spaghetti vongole on the menu, Morchella jumps around the Med. But it does so with the confidence of Tom Ripley on a Duolingo streak. There’s a gorgeous bite of spanakopita. And crispy churros in romesco sauce are best paired with a glass of something ‘funky’. Do this at the counter and you are instantly chic, glam, and a person of serious metropolitan importance—just don’t fall off your stool. 

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

Given that things can easily stack up bill-wise, you want to order strategically, and some flavours can get a little repetitive. A thumping paprika-heavy mussel pil pil can lead to an underwhelming plate of hake and sobrasada, and you should probably order something other than the parmigiana panzerotti after that.

Like anything good-looking and popular, Morchella could be easy to scowl at. But there’s some adventure about this restaurant. The food is unattached and open-minded; it’s a sabbatical around the Med that comes back to Clerkenwell to tell you about its travels. Sure, not everything is a knockout. But you’ll realise with the final bite of moist, sweet, and savoury portokalopita that when it does hit, Morchella tastes even better than it looks.

Food Rundown

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

Spanokopita

The Greek spinach pie is reimagined as a delicate cylindrical canapé that we could envision eating precisely 20 of if left in a room with a tray, unobserved. The filling is a kind of spinach and feta mousse that’s enlivened with a sprig or two of dill. It’s completely delicious.

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

Salt Cod Churros

The early parts of Morchella’s menu are some of the most seductive snacks in London, including these savoury churros. Crispy spears of salt cod are perfectly balanced with vibrant romesco sauce. Should a pile of these be left in our vicinity, we cannot control what would happen next.

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

Mussel Pil Pil

You might associate pil pil with the sizzle of prawns singing with garlic, but not here. This is a square of crustless focaccia that’s utterly sodden with a tingly paprika-heavy sauce, with perfectly plump mussels on top. It’s oily, it’s messy, it’s a total delight.

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

Egg, Chickpeas, Spinach

Some dishes are vaguely described on purpose. Not this one. It’s literally a plate of chickpea and spinach stew, with a crispy fried egg in there, and dollop of yoghurt for good measure. A humbly described plate of delicious slop. What’s going on in there? There are crunchy croutons. Some chilli. And lots of gooey deliciousness. It’s lovely.

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

Salt Baked Poussin, Chilli Sauce

There’s something a little timid about this small bird hiding under its salt shell. The flavours are pretty punchy, though. A sweet chilli sauce laden with green peppers and slices of cornichon add a pleasant tang to the whole thing. One person can easily eat this little bird. Note: do not eat the salt crust.

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

Portokalopita

Drenched in syrup but with pleasingly crisp crusts, this bouncy, incredibly moist blood orange cake also has flecks of salty black olive throughout. To say it works is an understatement.