Ascending Pneuma’s narrow black staircase, traversing the dark hallway and entering the brightly lit, New York-style loft dining space is an experience in itself. The attack on the senses continues with chef Matt Blackwell’s unconventional flavour combinations: textbook rosemary sourdough with cultured honey and miso butter, say, or his play on Spanish boquerones en vinagre, which pairs anchovies with Pedro Ximénez vinegar and a slick of ’nduja and piquillo pepper emulsion. More familiar, but equally delicious? The bite-size aged cheddar and Comté custard tarts filled with malted onion jam. There’s obvious thought paid to texture, too, in a dish of heirloom beetroot and garlic almond cream, hidden beneath a crunchy jumble of fried garlic, toasted grains and black walnuts. It’s distinctive cooking, backed by a wide-ranging drinks offering, spanning from Burgundy to aged Australian shiraz and Japanese sake. Like the Tool song it’s named after, Pneuma embodies edge and progressiveness in all the best ways.
James Frostick
