When Rambutan first opened its doors two years ago, food critics – almost universally – could not get enough of it. Coventry-born chef, Cynthia Shanmugalingam, had transformed her take on Sri Lankan diaspora cooking onto the London restaurant scene. To be clear, the angle is definitively not Indian food and nor is it traditional Sri Lankan; rather it is a showcase for the island’s cuisine, but with a very British twist. As long as you like spice and don’t mind fruit in your curry, then Rambutan is the place to go.
As the title of this review suggests, Rambutan is an exuberant and boisterous restaurant. It’s busy and the service borders on impersonal. The venue was turning tables quickly, even on the Monday night when we visited. However, it kind-of works: it’s very Borough Market and very zeitgeisty. Everyone – clientele and staff – seemed a little too cool for school and everything – obviously – is meant for sharing. Even with quite a hip and buzzy soul-based soundtrack, the volume level was pleasingly acceptable. Spread over two floors, Rambutan works for both couples and groups. Solo diners can perch on bar stools and watch the chefs in action.
The menu offers a choice of snacks, grilled items, curries and sundries. Alternatively, if you’re lazy, or wish to sample widely – we, of course, fell into the latter category – then there is a well-priced feasting menu. This comprises seven dishes plus rice and roti. At £40/head, it constitutes a veritable bargain. A vegetarian selection is also available. We stayed omnivore. Our palates were immediately set zinging by a pair of black pepper chicken heart skewers accompanied by a green chilli sambol (a traditional local condiment comprising coconut, chillis, onions and lime juice). Despite my dining comrade having spent some time in Sri Lanka, he was already sweating at this stage. Perhaps Rambutan may want to dial down the spice a touch for the more faint-hearted?
A fried chickpea and yoghurt starter did at least represent a pleasant contrast and cleansed tingling tongues. Among our septet of offerings, by far and away the standout dish was a black pork belly curry. The meat was tender with a wonderful balance of fatty richness and spicy zing. It was a pity, however, that Rambutan didn’t quite hit that high elsewhere. Fruit in curry, I am sorry, just does not do it for this reviewer. Perhaps it’s a legacy of having grown up in the early 1980s where such abominations were more commonplace, but the venue’s pineapple curry was a severe anti-climax.
In the final assessment, Rambutan is fun and won’t result in your wallet being emptied too severely (especially since we stuck to beer), but just don’t come with too high expectations.