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The menu, is simply a set of great ingredients, presented to the very best of their advantage…
No wheels are reinvented, you are just fed very well.
Each dish is a subtle, untweezery, blob-defying knockout, a Mediterranean-scented celebration of produce as hero.
Toklas is more exciting than almost any other room in London… the courtyard level is thrust through the building above and hung out over Surrey Street as a terrace. You eat, suspended among the upper layers of the surrounding buildings, staring at the ceramic encrustation of the old Strand Tube station, realising how much of this part of London is actually Beaux Arts.
Luminous brioche laminations and thick slices of tarts blessed with citrus from Todoli are quotidian beauties.
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