First thing’s first: it’s not really a canteen. It’s a small room, with tiles, near Finsbury Park. There’s also no one called Frank here. It’s the name of the owner’s son.
That’s where the misdirection ends, though. Frank’s Canteen wears its sauce-laden heart on its sleeve. What you see is what you get, and that’s a friendly space with a bubbly atmosphere and lots of sharing plates. Owner Paul Warburton’s enthusiasm and love of hospitality is what keeps this place humming. It’s tangible in the staff’s easy-going geniality, the ever-shifting menu and - crucially - the big, bolshy flavours crammed clown car-like into every morsel.
An avant-garde mackerel parfait exploded with curling tentacles of pickled baby corn
Sure, the Frank’s brand is not as slick as it could be. Decor is a bit non-committal. The toilet has a big painting of Morrisey in it. But who cares, really? The dishes, all of which are designed to share, are where the party’s at. And make no mistake: the food at Frank’s is a party. Former Kudu bod, head chef Eloise Dawes sends out plate after plate of rambunctious, eye-catching fun. Peacocking standouts included the smashed jacket potato, paddling in chive oil and splattered with dill-charged sour cream and also an avant-garde mackerel parfait, exploding with curling tentacles of pickled baby corn. The rustic-sounding duck yolk scotch eggs, a new addition to the menu, were ebulliently over sauced and accessorised with fancy mushrooms, like an old friend turning up to the pub in a white fur coat and sunglasses. It wasn’t what I was expecting. But I am happy for them.
Best of all were the lamb croquettes, a dish I would normally side step. London is suffering from croquette fatigue: a deep-fried malaise spreading oily, overheated mush across the capital’s dining rooms. The Frank’s croquettes are the antidote. Somehow Paul and Eloise have crammed the essence of an entire casserole into each delicately fried orb. Mains neither disappointed nor compromised on creativity: my venison fillet (cooked to perfection) in port sauce came crowned with a Kandinsky-esque thatch of parsnip shreds and crispy bacon.
It would be easy for Frank’s Canteen to get overshadowed by the mighty Farang just a few doors down. The fact is, Paul and Eloise have more than enough about them to go toe to toe with the Big Sebby Holmes and his holy basil-obsessed coterie. Bring some mates, grab a carafe and don’t skip dessert: Frank’s is a good time waiting to happen.
The vibe A good vibes room which genuinely does merit the much-touted ‘neighbourhood restaurant’ appellation.
The food Small plates with the flavour dial turned all the way up. They’re having fun at Frank’s.
The drink Four reds, four whites, some sparkling, some rose. And a handful of classic cocktails. What more do you want?
Time Out tip Frank’s does a BYO deal on Wednesdays, with no corkage charge.