It’s safe to say that Delamina will be loved by ladies who lunch. The airy, high-ceilinged dining room brims with shabby-chic elegance, staff are charming and the people-watching is good. The food, leaning to the Med and Middle East, is supposedly ‘wholesome’. And some is also excellent. Like a jewel of a dessert: a pair of smooth, moussey slabs of tahini halva draped with a sweet, dark slick of date syrup and a scattering of roasted hazelnuts. It was probably the least healthy thing on the menu, but whatevs.
Also good were small, snacky plates: moreish whipped ikra (cod roe) with fluffy pieces of pitta; fiery deep-fried okra with a lemony tahini dip (tahini features a lot here: don’t bring someone with a sesame allergy); and nicely charred, chilli-spiked courgette ‘two ways’. But other dishes were so-so: the signature turkey shawarma had good flavours but dry, scrawny meat (Delamina, incidentally, is from the same crew behind the ill-judged Strut & Cluck: they do love a bit of turkey), while a plate of ‘charred’ cauliflower arrived soggy and drowning in pomegranate molasses.
So ask for a street-level table and stay safe with snacks. Then skip straight to that pud.