John Chantarasak and his wife Desiree will shortly open AngloThai in London, their first bricks and mortar restaurant after years of pop-ups and residencies. Chantarasak was born in the UK to Thai and British parents, and has long married the two influences, creating a unique take on Thai cuisine using mostly British and European ingredients. He makes a peanut sauce with toasted sesame seeds, for example, and, where possible, sources British-grown Thai ingredients like holy basil and chillies. Dishes like hot and sour turbot broth and flatbreads with shrimp paste butter and Cornish shellfish wowed diners at a summer-long residency at The Outcrop in central London last year.
‘I’ve spent a long time cooking this concept,’ says Chantarasak ahead of the restaurant’s launch. ‘This week I found a menu from November 2015, which was the first time I did a pop-up dinner with Anglo-Thai food. At that point we hadn’t coined the phrase but by my second popup in February 2016, that was the concept name.’
After spells cooking at Som Saa, a Thai restaurant in London, and the legendary Nahm in Bangkok, Chantarasak’s pop-ups drew attention. He was named chef to watch at the National Restaurant Awards in 2022 and released his debut cookbook, Kin Thai, the same year – all before having his own restaurant.
A proposed permanent site fell through last year but now an intimate, 48-cover restaurant with a neighbourhood feel will showcase Chantarasak’s cooking alongside Desiree’s carefully crafted wine list. The main menu will be a la carte with a tasting-menu option, potentially including dishes trialled at a recent popup at Barra in Berlin, including a cuttlefish ink bun loosely based on prawn toast that uses coriander, ginger, garlic and heritage grains and seeds.
In the early days, Chantarasak imported much of his produce from Thailand and Southeast Asia – now it’s mostly local. ‘As a London-based chef, I believe I have a responsibility to source locally, using the seasons to their fullest and supporting local businesses and supply chains.’ There’s an element of quality control, too. ‘If you want the freshest ingredients, you have to cook with local, seasonal ingredients.’
Rice has completely made way for heritage grains including farro, while a satay sauce is made with lion’s mane mushrooms and sunflower seeds. Some ingredients are harder to replicate: lemongrass, coconuts and shrimp paste are still imported. Coconut cream, Chantarasak admits, is a staple he couldn’t go without.
Rice has completely made way for heritage grains including farro, while a satay sauce is made with lion’s mane mushrooms and sunflower seeds
Mexican chef Santiago Lastra, who recently opened Fonda, his second Mexican restaurant in London, worked at Noma in Copenhagen for two years and headed its legendary popup in Tulum, Mexico, in 2017. ‘I saw how places like Noma were using Japanese techniques to cook local ingredients,’ he told the Great British Chefs website. “Why couldn’t I do the same using the methods of Mexican cooking?”
That’s exactly what he did – in Britain. Scouring the country for substitutes, he came up with several options. Instead of lime he uses tangy sea buckthorn; for the uniquely stringy Oaxaca cheese, he found a producer who could make it in Kent. His version of guacamole is made with roasted pumpkin seeds – reflecting a traditional preparation from Yucatán – as they can be imported without chemical treatment.
Noma may be closing at the end of this year but its dedication to local ingredients has had a lasting effect on the industry. Often dubbed locavorism, restaurants across the world are taking an increasingly militant approach to provenance. In Latin America, for example, Central in Lima highlights ingredients from across Peru’s ecosystems; São Paulo’s Notiê focuses on sourcing from Brazil’s myriad biomes; Bocaldivia in Ecuador sources almost everything from its surrounding regions.
Britain may not have the diverse ecosystems of South America but its chefs are already invested in local produce. Much of the food grown or foraged for Simon Rogan’s Cumbrian restaurant empire comes from near his restaurants, while EC Ancoats in Manchester doesn’t use black pepper because it’s not grown in the UK. At Lastra’s first London restaurant, Michelin-starred Kol in Marylebone, his cuisine is recreated with local ingredients, eschewing staples like avocado and lime. The New Nordic movement spearheaded by Noma is more an “all-encompassing philosophy” than a cuisine, and many of Britain’s top restaurants now follow its principles.
‘It’s essential to prioritise local produce,’ says Lastra, who still imports corn, chillies and pumpkin seeds – the only Mexican-grown ingredients he uses. ‘At Fonda, we don’t simply “replace” ingredients. Instead, we focus on incorporating fresh British ingredients alongside high-quality staples like olive oil, pistachios and various seeds. This approach allows us to maintain the integrity of our cuisine. For instance, fresh fruits, avocados and limes often require chemical treatments to be imported, making it difficult to use them without compromising quality. By emphasising local produce, we celebrate the richness of British flavours.’
Paradise, a Sri Lankan spot in Soho, is another example of a foreign cuisine adapted with British ingredients. Rhubarb is added to curries to add tang and, like at Kol, sea buckthorn provides acidity (though some lime is still used). To cut down on coconut imports, the isso roti blends coconut with spelt flour from Northumberland. Sri Lankan cinnamon, ginger, aubergines and jaggery are used but cashews have been switched for roasted sunflower seeds in a curry, ‘replicating the nutty richness beloved in Sri Lankan cuisine while introducing a unique British twist,’ says Dom Fernando, Paradise’s founder.
The marriage of global dishes with local produce begs the question: are ingredients essential to a cuisine or are flavours, techniques and combinations more important. ‘The authenticity in our Sri Lankan cuisine stems from a combination of carefully selected ingredients and the techniques we use,’ says Fernando.
Often dubbed locavorism, restaurants across the world are taking an increasingly militant approach to provenance
Lastra agrees. ‘I believe the most important aspects are the approach to cooking and the culture and personality of the people behind it. Ultimately, it’s not just about the ingredients, but the approach to cooking that defines Mexican cuisine. As Mexicans, we embody a spicy, fun, easygoing, vibrant and friendly spirit, and that essence is what Mexican food is all about.’ Whether there are avocados or not, Kol is still a Mexican restaurant.
Chantarasak avoids the term “authenticity”. ‘I don’t think that’s possible when the majority of the ingredients we use are sourced from Britain and Europe. Instead, I like to think that the anchoring we have in the dishes we are inspired by in Thailand makes sense to Thai people, and those with a finely tuned Thai palate.’
For a growing number of chefs, minimising imports, whether for environmental, quality or cost reasons, is far from betraying a cuisine – if anything, it adds to it. For the customer, it makes for an exciting, surprising and, most importantly, flavourful experience.
