Since Jay Rayner’s famously scathing Observer review, Wishbone has probably become the most divisive restaurant in Brixton. ‘It’s all those pimped-up dirty-food clichés in one messy, shoot-me-now package,’ he wrote of the place, from the same stable as Soho’s Meat Liquor, and hot on the, ahem, wings of London’s first ‘hipster’ chicken joint in NW5. So when Wishbone invited us down, we sent an expert: the author of cult blog Southern Fried London, dedicated to south London’s numerous chicken shops
I like chicken; it’s been a staple of my diet for as long as I can remember – my favourite meal as a kid was fried chicken breast served with any kind of potato and a discretionary spoonful of veg – but I never imagined my life would be quite so dominated by chicken and chips as an adult. What happened? I started a blog documenting the fried chicken shops that line the streets of south London and accidentally became something of an expert.
But here’s the thing – I don’t even eat fried chicken that much these days. My interest in the shops is rooted in a curiosity about their design and their anthropological importance. They are ubiquitous yet unique, reflecting modern life so succinctly that they’re genuinely fascinating. I’m not the only one who feels this way based on the emails I get and number of chicken-related projects I’ve found; Channel 4 even recently screened a documentary about a day in the life of a chicken shop. What more do you want to prove that chicken is the hipster king of meats?
I’ve agreed to give this place special consideration; after all, it is just a chicken shop in south London, with the added bonus of knives, forks and hand wipes
Although I don’t sample the chicken or rank the shops according to their culinary output – can you imagine eating that many chicken wings a week? – I decided to make an exception for Wishbone in Brixton Market, one of a recent breed of posh chicken shops that have cropped up in parts of London. I do feel somewhat uneasy making this exception and have to question why I’ve agreed to give this place special consideration; after all, it is just a chicken shop in south London, with the added bonus of knives, forks and hand wipes, but I’m curious to see what it’s all about.
The restaurant itself is perky enough and designed to accommodate those it’s trying to attract: space is tight downstairs and sitting down requires slightly awkward perching on stools, cheek to cheek with other diners during busy periods. It’s essentially a chicken shop-done-good; the colours are bright, in keeping with the traditional aesthetic, but muted and refined enough to indicate it’s not just your run of the mill chicken shack –it’s definitely gone up in the world. Then there’s the fact they sell alcohol; the menu of sours is a treat, and the drinks themselves definitely don’t disappoint. But the food? It doesn’t always hit the mark, and I can’t help think that Wishbone is just as conflicted about itself as I was about going.
The menu offers plenty of choice (less if you’re vegetarian, no surprise) and definitely piqued our interest when we arrived. It had annoyed me that I couldn’t see the menu online before going, but what did I expect? It’s a chicken shop. I was especially keen to try the sides and leave the main assessment of the meat to my companion, something of a fried chicken connoisseur. We ordered well and swiftly regretted the decision when we saw the portions: you definitely get your money’s worth, that’s for sure.
Our tray of treats arrived, accompanied by a beaming waitress, and the fun of unwrapping the paper parcels to find out what was inside began. The chips, authentically wrapped in a paper bag, were also authentically underwhelming and the Chicken Shop wings (£4.50) seemed overdone and dry, even with the BBQ sauce. The Hot Mess (£4.50), a side order of hash browns, salsa, chillies and cheese, was exactly as the name describes, even if a little confusing to the taste buds. But by far the best dishes we tried were the ones you definitely wouldn’t find in your regular chicken shop: the Thai Thighs (£5.50 for more than two could eat), served with a tamarind dressing, with mint, chilli and shallots, were a standout favourite, full of flavour and – crucially – fresh ingredients. Then the Mac ‘n’ Cheese (pricier at £4.50), pasta in cheese sauce, coated in breadcrumbs and deep fried, is such a truly bad idea that it seemed to be a very good one at the time (and I’m sure will be again in the future).
So what to make of Wishbone? I’m still not sure. Towards the end of the meal I asked where the chicken was from, but the staff couldn’t answer without consulting the chef. Although I wouldn’t expect the staff in a regular chicken shop to know, I was surprised that they didn’t at Wishbone, where “free range chicken” is highlighted on the menu. I left wondering whether they really care about the culinary experience, or are they just riding the wave of food trends. It all seems a little sanitised, balancing precariously between offering a genuinely good chicken experience and becoming an ironic pastiche. But at the end of the day, how posh can chicken in a basket really ever be? More to the point: how posh should it be? The jury’s still out on this one.
Score: 6/10
Wishbone, Unit 12, Market Road, Brixton, SW9. Tel: 020 7274 0939
Words & pictures by Jenny Newman, who edits Southern Fried London, a blog devoted affectionately to south London’s numerous non “posh” chicken shops.
Left: Lewisham’s Chicken Cottage, as it appears on the website
