Sova, London
Just off Portobello Road, Sova isn't exactly hidden away. In fact, it's right next door to The Notting Hill Bookshop, meaning I had to navigate a queue of tourists waiting to recreate their Julia Roberts moment before I could get through the door.
Inside, though, it feels worlds away from the crowds. The dining room is intimate and softly lit, with sleek interiors that feel both stylish and comfortable. I hadn't planned to write about Sova, so I neglected to take any photographs of the space itself, which is a shame because it's beautifully done.
The original plan was simple: meet a close friend, drink a bottle of wine and spend an afternoon indulging in several hours of uninterrupted chismis. Naturally, we ordered a few dishes to support this important activity.
Then the food arrived.
Suddenly the camera was out and a blog post was inevitable. We ended up ordering most of the starter menu, which turned out to be an excellent decision.
The beef tartare was the first dish to land. Rich, creamy and buried beneath a generous mound of parmesan, it came with cured egg yolk for dipping. I took one bite and actually stopped talking. Anyone who knows me will appreciate how rare an event that is.
The tuna was equally impressive. Fresh and delicate, it was topped with cucumber, fennel and capers, then finished with Georgian adjika.
Next came slow-roasted peppers with anchovy. It reminded me of something you might find in San Sebastián but the dill oil gave it a distinctly Eastern European character.
For the main, we kept things simple with the duck breast in plum sauce. Compared to some of the more inventive starters it was the most conventional dish we ordered, but it was beautifully executed. Perfectly cooked duck, rich sauce, and a side of Balkan and Alpine cheeses that paired brilliantly with the wine.
By this point we were happily working our way through the wine list, which is reason enough to visit Sova on its own. The focus is on Central and Eastern Europe, with bottles from Croatia, Slovenia, Georgia and beyond. It's a genuinely interesting list, curated with confidence rather than trying to follow trends.
While waiting for my friend, I started with a crisp glass of Croatian Feravino. With the food, we shared a bottle of Zavec Brothers' Lost & Found, a skin-contact wine that had plenty of personality without becoming one of those orange wines that feels determined to pick a fight with you.
What I liked most about Sova was how easy it was to spend an afternoon there. The food is thoughtful without being fussy, the wine list is genuinely exciting and the atmosphere encourages lingering.
If you're looking for somewhere to settle in with a good friend, a bottle of wine and absolutely no intention of checking the time, Sova is a very good place to do it.
