The restaurants that dart under the radar are the ones I’m always eager to hunt down, the places that somehow slip through the glare of the mainstream and quietly do their thing – I trust the ‘Spidey-Senses’ when they start pinging away and get a bit of a buzz when I know I may be on the trail of a little gem.
The magical otherworldly feel of Mersham-le-Hatch – unexpected, transporting, a real looker – sets the tone for a Nepalese meal that sparks with genuine verve and ambition. Feeling like a miniature Soho Farmhouse-esque Cotswold idyll, driving into the entrance of this self-titled ‘business village’ which also houses the Kent Cookery School, a private events space and day spa, the setting is a surprise from the kick-off. An 18th Century converted stables is where we are, part of the Mersham Hatch Estate near Ashford, the majority of which has been in continual ownership by the Knatchbull family since 1486.
Koyla is owned by the family behind the Everest Inn restaurants, established spots in Hythe, Ashford and Blackheath, with this newest addition being executive chef Shanker Pandey’s modern interpretation of his Nepalese upbringing. The confidently short menu delivers dishes with nuance and subtlety, crackling with creative energy yet maintaining a balance and integrity to their Nepalese roots without freewheeling into self-indulgent ‘twists’: a clever combination of artistry and restraint.
Pani Puri get things off to a rollicking start: lacy wheat balls of airy crispness, filled with a dice of spiced potato and chickpea. Pouring a drizzle of tamarind infused water, or one with mint and chilli, ends up being a spectacular first couple of bites, exhilarating crunch against softness of potato, the zing of those drizzles, and one we almost miss – after placing our order we’re implored by Ravi (one of the family) to order these pockets of glory, and I’m pleased he did. My idea that these would be ‘all filler, no killer’ is instantly quashed. Cheers, Ravi.
Lime Poleko prawns arrive: crisp carapace on deftly-coated mammoth tiger prawns, a smattering of fried garlic, a wicked smear of turmeric mayo and a burnt lime alongside for squeezing – this is toe-tappingly thrilling cooking, full of bounce and kapows of flavour. Line these up and keep them coming with some blizzard cold Golden Everest lager, please. Momo dumplings, the mighty calling card of any Nepalese menu, are steamed chicken amongst a soup of chestnut and tomato chutney.
Choila is a barbecued meat starter often encountered in Nepalese restaurants, a Newari dish traditionally made with buffalo meat, but here it’s the pinkest slivers of duck, fat rendered beautifully until sweet and crisp, a perky Nepali salsa of pickled pear alongside a scatter of snow-white crisped and beaten rice – again, there’s texture and contrast, ebb and flow. Amongst this dazzling opening salvo of starters, perhaps our most anticipated of scallops on a smoosh of pea and mint chutney, and red chilli and garlic chutney, is kicked into touch – yet still excellent – by its boisterous campadres.
The one that lingers longest in the synapses is the lamb cutlet, which has us ‘high-fiving’ and finger-clicking like we’ve just hit the jackpot – squarely in ‘order another immediately’ territory, £7 for this dish is deliriously good value and may incite a riot of frenzied orders if word gets out. Order two. Neatly French-trimmed, cooked to juiciest pink, fat crisped and charred, Nepali-spiced, this is an exercise in some serious barbecuing skills. Bone gnawed, stripped and sucked clean: we give it the deepest respect.
There’s ‘home-style’ curry goat, the meat falling away ravishingly from the bone with the gentlest prod of the fork, deep booming flavour yet subtly spiced, a nugget of marrow begging to be scooped out of the bone. We duly oblige.
Another dish that remains as a towering highlight is ‘The True Biryani’, a majestic thing complete with its ‘dum’ pastry lid that seals in all the goodness as it cooks, the layered and saffron infused rice mingling with slow-cooked chicken (on the bone), fried onions and potato, hopping with the bright pop of cardamom ­– the big ‘reveal’ at the table as the lid is sliced open for us delivers a celestial waft that has us cooing in appreciation. An essential order.
‘Pork Se-kuh-wa’ is another twist on a Nepalese street food classic, popular in Dharan and Kathmandu, here featuring a charred pork loin alongside some ‘naan sticks’ and sesame seed chutney. Again, the meat cooking is precise, and sees us chasing the last of that chutney around with luscious slices of pork and their robe of barbecued fat.
Koyla roughly translates as ‘charcoal’, which feels appropriate given the kitchen’s masterful use of fire and slow cooking, but also for this being a little diamond of a spot, that once unearthed, deserves a loyal crowd to appreciate the dazzling moves in the kitchen.
Nepalese food doesn’t need a reboot, but with the artful riffs and jives going on here, there is room for this quite thrilling interpretation.
Reviewed by Zeren Wilson
