Though now home to a clutch of travel-worthy destination restaurants, as well as an indoor street food market and more boozing spots than you can shake an olive-adorned cocktail stick at, it’s hard not to hear Canary Wharf and immediately conjure up images of skyscrapers and fast-walking suits.
In one hand of every passing businessman, a phone barking out the latest stock exchange numbers; in the other, meat, gnawed off the bone because there is no time for cutlery when you’re busy making deals. In other words, to find a spot as genuinely, dare we say it, cosy as Marceline - a new French brasserie, with a menu overseen by Rob Aikens (brother and sometime-collaborator of twice Michelin-starred Tom) - feels thoroughly offbrand in the most pleasing of ways.
Profiteroles are elevated with slivers of banana (a game changer)
With access via a designated waterside bridge, the sort of tasteful aesthetic that suggests it bought up a reasonable amount of made.com’s surplus stock, and an extensive wine list that comes recommended by their in-house sommelier, there is luxury, yes. But there’s nothing ostentatious or needlessly showy here. Looking out at the twinkling lights of a dozen enormo-banks seems kind of cute; like seeing a Christmas tree through a living room window.
Inside, the atmosphere is that of a vast room full of people exhaling contentedly after a long day. The prices here, too, are surprisingly fair. Sure, there are many opportunities to splash £100 or more on a bottle of wine, but there are also perfectly good ones that start at £30, with glasses of fizz for under a tenner. On the cocktail menu is a speciality ‘two sips’ martini that’ll get you in the zone for less than the price of a pint, while a gin-based ‘Violet Light’ comes pleasingly heavy on the lemon: tart, short and dangerously drinkable.
Rare is the Instagram-approved dish that eats as well as it photographs, but their ravioli dauphiné is just that. Plate-sized and scored in small biteable squares so as to resemble a luxurious, quilted duvet, it is an oozy, oily, cheesy thing of wonder; a 20 tog joy filled with comté, doused in brown butter and with enough bite to its outer layer to hold the whole thing together with gumption.
Also on the hors d’oeuvres, a salmon rillette managed to be both decadent and comforting, fleshing out its wares with chunks of proper, hefty smoked fish but serving it on toast with the crusts cut off, like your mum would make.
Mains are purposefully, we’re told, aimed at providing traditional, good quality brasserie fare. There are moules frites; there is rotisserie chicken; a fillet steak au poivre is pleasingly peppercorn-spiked, while a whole trout, swimming in a vibrantly lemony butter sauce and topped with an entire crop of green beans, feels more special.
Their desserts have a little fun with the formula. Profiteroles are elevated with slivers of banana (a game changer) and a substitute of cold, smooth ice cream instead of creme patissiere. A pud simply called ‘chocolate’ does what it says on the tin, with a stonkingly rich cremeux, crumble, nibs and more: an Ozempic nightmare, but Willy Wonka’s dream. You’ll leave relaxed, full, at peace with the world. Just don’t look up when you’re heading back to the tube.
The vibe A cosy hideaway amidst the hustle of Canary Wharf.
The food Classic French brasserie dishes, with the occasional light twist.
The drink Wine and more wine, but don’t let the cocktails get forgotten.
Time Out tip Don’t let the ‘free-flowing’ baguettes get the better of your appetite. They will keep getting refilled whether you like it or not. Nibble wisely.