Chandos Road, in Bristol’s Redland area, has become one of the city’s culinary destinations. Nearby Wilks boasts a Michelin star and I loved my visit to Wilsons last year. Boutique seems to be the unifying principle behind all these restaurants, working on the premise of small and intimate equals good. This is the angle pursued too by Otira, and while there were several notable positives, it was hard to escape the idea that its owners were perhaps simply just trying too hard. Thought of another way, if you asked most people – regardless of their culinary bent – what Argentinean tapas and rustic New Zealand cooking had in common – then the answer would probably be something along the lines of ‘very little.’ This hasn’t stopped the proprietors of Otira from trying to cram the above two concepts into one venue.
My dining comrade for our recent Friday night visit had booked ahead. I knew nothing of what to expect. On arrival, I encountered my first problem. Any visitor’s initial impression is of the tapas area: dark, moody, soulful music, bar stools and a counter-top. How cool, I thought. Look beyond, and there is an excessively bright dining room furnished with the usual contrivance of mismatched furniture and retro ornamentation. Were we eating in the front room? No, that was just for tapas; finer dining, if you will, is reserved for the back room. Disappointment then, and no, there isn’t the scope to mix and match food style and dining location at Otira despite the fact that the food presumably hails from the same kitchen. Once seated, we were hardly made to feel welcome. Our server was not unfriendly, more diffident and aloof; not something I normally look for or expect in a neighbourhood restaurant. There was still hope for the food, and things began promisingly with a wonderfully innovative take on a miniature sausage roll comprising duck and its egg then perched delicately on top. Otira keeps things simple (in a good way), with just four starters, mains and desserts from which to choose, priced favourably at £29 for two courses or £38.50 for three. Across the five dishes we sampled, none was actively bad, but nor was any mind-blowingly, OMG-this-is-amazing good. Overall, what Otira gained on presentation – and it was superlative – it lost on substance. Take my coal-cooked octopus, corn hummus, dashi broth and sea lettuce starter pictured. It certainly made an amazing visual impression, but the centrepiece was unfortunately under-cooked, with the octopus meat unpleasingly chewy. Elsewhere, it was similar – one good thing offset by a relative fail elsewhere. At least the venue knows its wines and the by-the-glass selection impressed throughout. Clearly Otira must be doing something right since the venue remained full throughout the evening. Presumably locals are satisfied by the experience even if I was left a little wanting.