St James’s Market, where Toba has set up shop, is absolutely nobody’s favourite place to dine out, despite millions being spent on this freshly burrowed concrete and steel crevice just off Regent Street in a bid to turn it into a retail/working/dining utopia. “Whether you’re after a bottomless brunch, a steaming cup of tea, or a Michelin-starred meal, this hub of contemporary dining can accommodate,” says the brochure for this market, which isn’t remotely a market because surely that would contain at least one stall selling onions or jam or, well, anything.
Yet, the standard of restaurants that St James’s continues to attract is impressive. Ikoyi thrived there for a time, and when I lunched at Toba I noted that there wasn’t a seat to be had in Fallow, Aquavit, or Ole & Steen (which is basically Greggs for middle-class people who have finished all three seasons of The Killing). Toba, a new Indonesian restaurant by Pino Edward Sinaga, has now taken over Ikoyi’s spot, serving food inspired by his late mother. His Camden Market street food stall, Pino’s Warung, has been hugely successful; go for the nasi goreng, gado-gado, meatballs and satay, but enquire about the specials because bebek penyet (crisp seasoned duck leg on a bed of yellow rice with spiced grated coconut) and kecombrang sambal is often on offer.
Why Indonesian food possibly evades mainstream British attention is that its bliss is both in the devilishly good detail and in the things casually strewn: crisp shallots, peanut sauces, the zing of a makrut lime leaf, a humble boiled egg smothered in chilli, things tossed in salted yolk, the frittered corn; the complex sweet, sour, chunky and silky sambals. Joy. But we don’t try this much at home: after all, it is food better left to the experts, such as the crew at Toba, who have brought 15 or so of Sinaga’s favourite dishes to the West End.
Dining at Toba is more chic than eating standing up in Camden Market; this is an elegant room in golds and fawns, with smartly dressed staff serving house margaritas so strong you’ll be a liability to your bank balance as you totter back up Regent Street. It was so slick that, on first sight, I feared the food would be an afterthought – as if this was possibly just somewhere to be photographed before going off to the new Boujis. But Toba is very decent.
We started with sate ayam, succulent grilled chicken skewers blackened by Toba’s fierce charcoal grill then doused in a heavenly peanut sauce and scattered with the crunchiest shallots. “I’d come back just for these, if I was passing,” I said as a portion of very good, very feisty beef rendang appeared, the meat still soft and yielding but the marinade of spicy coconut assertive enough to wake a rhino.
A pretty duo of enormous grilled king prawns in spicy padang sauce (udang saus padang) came next, which were visually wondrous, although perhaps not as earth-shattering as the gulai daun singkong pete (above), a stew of tofu, tempeh and sator beans with just enough braised minced kale in a sweet, custard-yellow sauce of coconut milk. I don’t care whether you’re vegan or not: this is the best thing on the menu, particularly with a side of fragrant yellow rice and the trio of house sambals (shrimp, ginger and Balinese-style).
Even the Liver King would have to admit that the best stuff here is meat-free. I suspect, however, he’d choose the beef tendon broth (soto betawi). A plate of morning glory (spinach and beans in a garlicky tomato sauce) was bizarrely tiny for £12.50, but a reminder that we’re in an alley close to Piccadilly Circus. This square foot isn’t cheap to lease.
Desserts were gloriously cartoonish dadar gulung (a Kermit-the-Frog-green coconut pancake made with pandan, and filled with shredded coconut stewed with palm sugar until golden brown.) The result is more than a little stodgy, but delicious nonetheless.
The deceptively brilliant cassava cake looks like a slice of school-dinner nothingness but was a killer blow of grated cassava, condensed milk, custard and coconut milk formed into a sturdy square, then topped with vanilla ice-cream. This epiphany of beige should not be underestimated. In fact, my advice is to order it, announce loudly to your dining companions: “Oh this looks drab, how disappointing”, then move it down the table to your end for a solo feast. Desserts are about being tactical.
We went back to Toba the following week, as it was handy and we wanted more of that gulai daun singkong pete. St James’s Market may be soulless, but places like Toba and its neighbour Fallow keep dragging me back for the dependably good food.
Toba, 1a St James’s Market, London SW1, 020-7839 8659. Open Tues-Sat, lunch noon-4pm, dinner 6-11pm (11pm Fri & Sat); Sun 11.30am-4pm. From about £40 a head à la carte; set menus from £36.50-£73.50 a head, all plus drinks and service
