Usually I go to restaurants just the one time before I review them. I don’t think this is unfair. I always share dishes with dining companions, so I’ll usually managed to try a fair swathe of—or even most of—the menu. But I’m glad I went to Black Axe Mangal thrice before writing anything, because it’s gotten better every time, to the point where it’s an easily one of my very favourites and, since I live nearby, there is always a fighting chance I will consider going on a given evening.
Black Axe Mangal doesn’t take bookings, but it doesn’t need them because it’s tiny. It can fit about 16, squashed together, inside, and six or maybe eight outside on little painted metal tables if it’s warm. It has a giant wood-fired stone oven for pizza-esque “flatbreads”, and it always always plays very loud punk or metal. They are good primarily because they craft a glorious, awe-inspiring menu, and everything delivers on its promise, with the punchiest most blow-your-head-off flavour you’ve ever eaten. I promise.
Just look at that. Absolutely everything is something you’ve never tried before and want to try. And by the next time you’re there, even if it’s just a couple of months, it’ll be mostly different, the epitome of what you want in a “neighbourhood restaurant”: somewhere you want to—and can afford to go to—regularly.
Crispy fuckin rabbit was essentially a mutton roll, but with rabbit. It was cooked until tender, then pressed together, breaded, and fried. It came with a chunky red blob of spicy jarred peppers blended up, and a lime. It was perfect.
Fried pigs ears with black lime was basically pork scratchings or rinds but less fatty: just the brittle crispy crunch element. And once again it was powerfully flavoured, with just the right amount of salt (a lot) and the wincy citrusof black (i.e. dried out) lime. In a good way.
Black Axe Mangal like serving things with crisps. On an earlier visit I got ox cheek with them. This time they came with a beef tartare (extremely tender) with bone marrow. If you’re reading this team, next time I want more bone marrow. Its flavour was just a hint, rather than the overpowering beefiness I wanted. But it provided a wonderful fatty lubricant. I don’t know what was on top.
The best dish of the night, and of a previous night, when the same spice coated chicken wings, was the half guinea fowl. I’m telling you: you need to try this mission spice. It’s spicy, numbing, salty, umami, and just… delicious all at once. It’s so full of pep and vigour that your eyes are almost watering. It kind of punches you. I’ve really never had anything like it—apparently they use special sichuan peppers that are much better than the kind that plebs like me buy in Chinatown. But however they do it, they know how to fry poultry till the outside is crisp, yet the inside is juicy, without being fatty or greasy. This is the optimal guinea fowl, I’ll put my name to that.
I’ve eaten a whole lot of other stuff there. Pictured above is a lamb offal flatbread. But I won’t go on about it: the story is the same. Lots of flavour. The correct price. Interesting ideas you haven’t eaten before. If it’s bread: warm and fluffy and right out of the oven. I love this place and I feel rather lucky it’s more or less the closest restaurant to my flat.