Cycling through the streets of Bristol this morning, there’s a tension in the air. Muggy weather is doing little to calm the nerves; electrons bumping into each other with the same tense excitement of the people milling around doing their Saturday chores. It only takes 90 minutes of sitting on a bench shoulder to shoulder, knife and fork clenched in hopeful hands to know the outcome to the question that is on everyone’s lips:
Is Littleshop & Pantry’s evening offer as good as it used to be?
The long answer is that if England’s performance tomorrow is the same as Littleshop & Pantry’s performance last night, we are in a spot of trouble.
There was a time (2022, not 1966) when Littleshop would quite comfortably be named in the top ten restaurants in Bristol. Cafe by day, restaurant by night. It was a mecca for small plates connoisseurs; Freddy Bird and his team were knocking out dishes like Pyrenean lamb chops, beef shin tortellini, tenderstem with BBQ miso sauce and rhubarb frangipane tart. Dishes that deftly borrowed flavours from all over the globe and combined them in perfect harmony in Westbury Park. Some said it was even better than the famed Littlefrench just up the road.
But then they littlestopped opening in the evenings. Winter, followed presumably by a desire to focus on a new project: 1 York Place.
So imagine the elation in my lovely little food-fanatic echo chamber when we heard that Littleshop was to reopen in the evenings. First a Labour government, then England in semi-finals and now this! They do say good things come in threes.
And much like the football England have been playing of late, there were flashes of brilliance in the latest iteration of Littleshop’s evening offer.
Sourdough, baked on site, with lashings of warm alioli (4 tapas dishes for £20) was as good a bread course as I’ve had anywhere. Whipped, smoked paprika-topped cod’s roe was also straight in the back of the net. And black truffle manchego is a long-standing feature on LSP’s menu for a reason, though it could have spent a minute or two longer in the fryer.
The veggie paella (£16.50) was an unexpected goal in the 90th minute; dense but not stodgy and with depth of flavour enough to rival the Mariana Trench. Though it was missing the crisp socarrat that a good paella should be proud of and also the fried egg that the menu promised.
But there was a distinct lack of harmony in the team. Our table included one veggie and one with a shellfish allergy which caused utter chaos.
First we were told everything is fried in the same fryer, and so (depending on how strict your morals are) nothing is in fact suitable for vegetarians or those with a shellfish allergy except the veggie paella and anything not fried. That ruled out half the menu.
Then they came back with a menu with ticks next to the things the vegetarians/prawn-phobes can eat; patatas bravas has sadly fallen into the dark side. Surely the venn diagram of vegetarians ordering tapas and patatas bravas is a perfect circle; how can you make your patatas bravas not suitable for vegetarians?
Yet for some reason the truffle manchego, also deep fried, was suitable. Tick. Or was it? One member of staff said yes, another no. A kitchen conference ensues. They can eat it, it’s absolutely fine, it was cooked in a different fryer. I felt about as confident as an England fan before a penalty shootout.
By this point my facial expression was as confused and frustrated as Pickford’s; why can’t they fry the bravas in the same fryer as the manchego then? It turns out it’s a moot point as the bravas wasn’t remotely crisp anyway. The search for actually good patatas bravas continues.
Like a lot Spanish food I’ve had recently, it left me feeling very… oily. Given that buying a bottle of olive oil these days is enough to slam-dunk me into my overdraft I suppose I should be grateful for the opportunity to indulge - but a few lighter dishes on the menu wouldn’t have gone amiss. There was an ‘optional’ green salad for two (£6.50) - I was under the impression that all menu items were optional - but it didn’t excite enough interest for us to consider ordering it.
Long waits between dishes arriving were presumably because they were scrubbing the pans to remove any traces of allergens or meat. The lull brought to my attention to the bright, daytime lighting, the lack of music and the cold wind blowing in through the open door.
It seems to me that Littleshop needs its manager to show up and make some substitutions. You can’t muck about like that with vegetarians, the poor things have already been denied meat - don’t deny them patatas bravas as well. But the paella was great. I’d travel to Berlin (or Westbury Park if we can indeed bring it home) for a plate and the chance to swipe a piece of that bread through that alioli again. The Spaniards can eat their hearts out.
All words and photos by Meg Houghton-Gilmour
Littleshop & Pantry, 66 Northumbria Drive, BS9 4HW, UK
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