Lurra – London, UK

9 Seymour Place

London

W1H 5BA

BY NEAL MARTIN | FEBRUARY 21, 2025

The Food:

Gernika peppers

Boquerones anchovies

Coombeshead sourdough with salted butter

5J Presa Ibérica with chimichurri and Feo de Tedula tomato salad

Basque cheesecake

The Wines:

2010 Castello Luigi Bianco del Ticino Besazio – 88

1994 Angélus - 94

I hate London. It is a Godforsaken February morning, the weather miserable as usual. I am walking upstream against a tide of tourists on Oxford Street. Once upon a time, this thoroughfare was flanked by magnificent edifices of renowned department stores that catered for Mr. and Mrs. Well-to-do. Now it is a sea of vapid vape shops, American candy stores and Primarks. Techno blares out front doors. Why can’t they play music to educate the passers-by: Bach’s Goldberg Variations, early Associates or Nick Drake? The air is polluted with exhaust fumes and stale pizza. Unlike every other famous high street around the world, Westminster Council never pedestrianized Oxford Street, hence the permanent logjam of vehicles. That makes it convenient for balaclava-clad teenagers on souped-up electric bikes to whip Smartphones from the hands of unsuspecting tourists desperately searching Google Maps for the quickest escape route from this retail dystopia. I’m heading towards Marble Arch, a knock-off Arc de Triomphe much like the knock-off tat sold down Oxford Street. This was original the site of Tyburn Tree, a twee name that hides a dark history; the titular tree was London’s de facto gallows that could execute 24 felons at a single pull of the lever. I fantasize about Parisian boulevards, Tokyo’s crime-free streets, Cape Town’s stunning backdrop and Miami’s white beaches, wishing I was anywhere but here…

I find Seymour Street, a sub rosa locale that’s a two-minute walk from Marble Arch. I rub my eyes in disbelief. Have I walked through a dokodemo door into another city (Doraemon fans will understand). It’s a quaint backstreet with bustling cafés and tempting independent restaurants, imbued with a parochial urban atmosphere that you would never expect in the heart of London. You would remain blissfully ignorant of its existence unless someone gave you a reason to venture that way, and my reason is to meet a friend from whom I procured many a bottle of fine wine back in my buying days. We’re long overdue a catch-up and Lurra was recommended by his colleague.

The interior of Lurra.

I had never heard of Lurra before, though those in the know seem familiar with it. Lurra specializes in Basque cuisine. The modern interior occupies a ground and upper level, with low ceilings. It’s smaller than expected, with Scandi style tables and chairs and banquettes across the back, above which are numerous cookery books. It throngs with diners this Tuesday lunchtime and there’s an enticing hubbub of noise.

The chef dicing and slicing Feo de Tedula tomatoes for the evening service.

Unusually, the open kitchen is on your left as you enter, so the heady scents of Basque cuisine already make your mouth water before you’ve sat down. Sometimes you know you love a restaurant before you’ve been handed the menu. When it arrives, practically every dish calls my name.

We started our evening with the Gernika peppers.

The Boquerones anchovies.

The Gernika peppers are outstanding. They are a little different from the better-known Padrón peppers, a little longer and larger, and slightly sweeter. Fresh, with just a little crunch and a healthy seasoning of sea salt, these are quickly demolished. The Boquerones anchovies are small but intense in flavor, the sweet red pepper punchy and perhaps with just a little too much heat. Meanwhile, the Coombeshead sourdough with salted butter is fresh out the oven, moist and so warm that you have to leave it a couple of minutes before tearing a chunk.

Our main course was the 5J Presa Ibérica, a traditional Iberian pork dish.

 The Feo de Tedula tomato salad complemented the 5J Presa Ibérica.

The 5J Presa Ibérica with chimichurri is wonderful, the pork perfectly cooked and tender, the chimichurri with just enough heat to liven the senses. Like many main dishes, you pay by the size, and a smaller portion is perfectly adequate. It is chaperoned by a side order of delicious Feo de Tedula tomatoes straight from Navarra. Feo de Tedula can be translated as “the ugly one from Tedula,” as these tomatoes are often misshapen. They are much sweeter than what you could find on our own shores, even in the height of summer.

This was one of the best cheesecakes I have ever encountered.

I finish with the Basque cheesecake. It is perfect. The first mouthful is blissful. It’s the best that I have ever eaten. Perfect light in consistency, it’s a little sweeter than others, with a gossamer-thin burnt topping that demonstrates delicacy of touch. I had resolved to eat half of it due to my dietary regimen, but finding it impossible to resist just another spoonful, I beg my dining companion to help. Lurra is worth visiting for the cheesecake alone.

My friend kindly bought two bottles. The 2010 Bianco del Ticino from Castello Luigi is a Swiss white with which I am unfamiliar, so I message my colleague, Nicolas Greinacher, who knows all about these kinds of things. He replies that it is probably Switzerland’s premier Bordeaux white blend. Indeed, it comes from a single-hectare parcel of Chardonnay planted on calcareous soils in 1989, the maiden vintage in 1996. It is highly sought-after with prices to match. The 2010 has a Marmite nose: you will love it or hate it depending upon your preference for oxidation. It is strong but not overpowering, with grilled hazelnuts, orange rind, smoke and damp hay, becoming slightly honeyed with time. The oxidative element is potent on the palate too, quite acrid and very nutty in style, with an arrestingly dry and bitter finish. Maybe it’s a couple of years past its best, but I don’t mind it.

If there is a better 1994 Bordeaux than the 1994 Angélus, born in a mediocre growing season, then I have not tasted it. My friend and I used to vacuum up this wine at Andrew Edmunds 20 years ago when it was listed for around 40 quid a bottle, so I have a sentimental attachment. However, the 1994 is everything you could want from a mature Saint-Émilion without pretentiousness. Gorgeous scents of red fruit, loam, chestnut and smoke blossom on the nose, hinting at possibly 1995 rather than 1994. Merlot is in the driving seat. The palate has wonderful balance and a keen line of acidity, fully mature yet certainly showing no signs of reaching the end of its drinking window. Mellow with pliant tannins softened by age, the Angélus boasts surprising depth and flesh, with hints of dried blood and game towards the finish. I love this Angélus now as much as I did back then. If you see a bottle, do yourself a favor.

Lurra is an unexpected gem nestled in a less-ventured part of London, hiding out of plain sight. It’s one of those places where I was planning a return visit as soon as I entered its doors. There are so many dishes on the menu that I still want to try. I appreciate the authenticity of ingredients and unfussy presentation that allow flavors and sourcing to speak for themselves. Prices are reasonable for London. Lurra treads a fine line, a classy restaurant without Michelin-starred pretensions.

I love London…sometimes.

 © 2025, Vinous. No portion of this article may be copied, shared or redistributed without prior consent from Vinous. Doing so is not only a violation of our copyright but also threatens the survival of independent wine criticism.