Jose's Tapas — Tom's review

Tomato bread.

Now, I'll forgive you if the above pair of common nouns doesn't instantly set your pulse racing. That's okay.

But I won't forgive you — with a steadfastness that'd make even Lucifer wince — if you go into Jose's tapas bar on Bermondsey Street, order their tomato bread, shove a chunk into your gob and don't immediately prostrate yourself at the twin altars of the Tomato and the Bread.

Jose's tomato bread is a mouth-cram of joy. It's like getting an intravenous shot of Mediterranean sunlight. It is a marriage of ur-tomato and ur-bread, beside which all other things bready and tomatoey are but anaemic pretenders.

Listen, I've kind of jumped into the middle, here, I know. (But I suspect you're familiar with this narrative technique and see it for the shameless attention-grabbing word-whoredom that it is.) But since we're here, in the middle, let's flail around a bit longer before attempting any kind of context or overview, shall we? Let's talk about the fresh green crunch of the deep-fried pedron peppers, the seared, matt delights of a flash-fried chicken liver. Let's talk about the garlicked juices of some pretty damn chunky prawns, running down your fingers.

(The juices running down your fingers, that is, not — thank the living saviour — the prawns themselves.)

What you need to know, in essence, is this: Go to Jose's. Get the tomato bread. Get sherry. Get a bunch more tapas. Probably just ask them to bring you a selection rather than trying to choose, you indecisive ditherer. Get more sherry. Get more tapas. Repeat until barely conscious/mobile.

Oh, and the other thing you need to know is — it's busy. By which I mean, rammed. Like a nightclub. But a million times more delicious than any nightclub I've ever been in. You can't book, you just turn up and try and find somewhere to squish yourself. Which took us about an hour.

But that hour was absolutely worth it.

For the tomato bread alone.

A Lesson by Jose in Food Underestimating

Now, I’m not entirely certain as to whether it was Tom or I who came up with this whole blog idea, but, it’s only our second stop, and I’m friggin’ loving it.

As I work my way from London Bridge tube station to experience the delights of a little restaurant called Jose on a corner of Bermondsey Street, I fall in love. No, not with a handsome stranger (romantic as that may have been), but with my surroundings. Cobbled streets, quirky pubs and inner-city gardens give Bermondsey an air of chic bohemia. A group of people walk past me - boys in cropped trousers and shirts buttoned to the neck, girls in fur coats, vintage dresses and laced-up heeled boots - and I know this is where all the cool kids are (obviously I am not one of them as I do indeed use the term 'cool kids'). Suddenly acutely aware of my own outfit, I spot Tom, looking rather dashing in jeans and a polo neck, and holding two designer shopping bags. Shit, I thought, he’s only bloody come prepared.

‘You’ve been shopping!’, I stated the obvious. ‘Oh yes, I love that polo neck. Don’t you look smart in your new clothes!’

‘Uh, Esther, this isn’t what I bought. I’ve always had these’.

‘Oh. Well, they’re lovely... Shall we go in?’

So in we did go. Only to be told to go out again and come back in about 45 minutes. But hey, busy is a good sign, so off we went looking for pre-tapas drinks. And we found the most fantastic cocktail bar - The Hide Bar. Like I said above, I am loving this blog-venture! Making little discoveries along the way, it really is what travel is all about. Anyway, one Ruby Red Shoes and a Classic Martini later, it was time to head back to Jose. And what a treat we had in store for us!

We had the following:

Manzanilla Pastrana £5.50

Padron Peppers £4.00

Iberico ham £9.00

Tomato bread £3.00

Tortilla £4.00

Croquetas £6.00

Lamb albondigas £5.00

Prawns, chilli £7

Chicken livers £5

Seabream £7.00

Now, of all the above, what would you say would provide the most delicious, inventive taste sensations? The sea bream? The lamb? Oh no, my naive friend. Jose has taught me this truly important lesson – never, ever, underestimate the power of ... tomato, and bread. Because, fuck! That was some damn tasty tomato, and some damn tasty bread! Okay, there was butter and garlic thrown in there, but I tell you, this place is worth a visit for the tomato bread alone. I wish I was eating some right now as I type. In fact, I have since been back to Jose, and yes, the tomato bread was still as scrumptious. (Okay, I may be milking it now, but just go, you’ll see).

What more can I say really. If you don’t mind standing while you eat (though we did get seats eventually) and being bustled a little, it’s a great little place to go for fantastic food in a fun, friendly environment for a pretty reasonable price. In terms of Spanish authenticity - well, who gives a fuck, the food is good!

So, grab that fur shawl and vintage patterned bag, and get down there. Have the tomato bread, have the peppers and have the sea bream. Feel free to comment if you hated any of these, but if you do, that’s your weird taste buds, I’m sure.

Happy eating!