Say the word paradise to most people and they envisage some sort of idyll. Think of it as an end point, or something we all strive towards. For any restaurateur to choose this term for their venue is a bold move. Culinary paradise for me would not specifically be an opportunity to dine at a small on-trend Sri Lankan venue in Soho, although there was much to like about this restaurant.
For those unfamiliar with Sri Lankan food, the nation’s cooking draws on a wide range of influences taking in elements of not only Indian cuisine, but also Portuguese, Dutch and Malaysian (all of whom have laid some claim to the country in the past). Sure, curry features prominently, but these dishes tend to be drier and hotter than their Indian counterparts with which many will be familiar. The hopper is another Sri Lankan culinary gift to the world, a bowl-shaped dry pancake similar to a poppadum but more delicate. Hoppers are nifty things; items which can either be filled with food or used to scoop it.
Both curries and hoppers can be found at Paradise, a venue at the northern end of Soho’s Rupert Street. Blink and you might almost miss it. Its frontage is small and discreet and the interior dark and minimalist, in a very extreme sense. While this may put some diners off, Paradise does have a certain early 2020s zeitgeist to it. We opted to sit at the counter facing onto the street; a prime people-watching spot too.
Keeping with the zeitgeist theme, all the dishes at Paradise are small, intentionally sharable and arrive at the table when ready. Needless to say, much of the produce is locally sourced, although the small print on the menu says that “where possible”, speciality vegetables, fruits and spices do come all the way from Sri Lanka.
We opted for seven dishes between two of us. While almost all of them delivered, two standout points merit important mention: portion sizes are highly inconsistent, as is pricing. A plate of stir-fried prawns almost constituted a main meal in its own right, but a cashew and hazelnut curry was finished in just four mouthfuls. You could pay as little as £9 for a dish or as much as £24, with no clues given on the menu as to how large they may be. Our bill (with two beers each and service) came to around £120 – not cheap for an impromptu midweek meal. For the less price conscious, what will be remembered, however, was the intensity of the dishes, the subtle interplay of spices, layer upon layer building to a lasting, lingering moment. If you dine at Paradise, then try the paneer topped with chervil and coriander chutney as well as the dry-fried minced chicken coated in dark roast spices, free green peppercorns and lime leaf espuma – and, of course, the obligatory hopper.