<a target="_blank" href="https://www.lurra.co.uk/">Lurra</a>

9 Seymour Place 

London, UIK

W1H 5BA

BY NEAL MARTIN | FEBRUARY 21, 2025 

The Food:

Gernika
peppers

Boquerones
anchovies

Coombeshead
sourdough with salted butter

5J
Presa Ibérica with chimichurri and Feo de Tedula tomato salad

Basque
cheesecake

The Wines:

2010 Castello
Luigi Bianco del Ticino Besazio – 88

1994
Angélus - 94

I hate
London. It is a Godforsaken February morning, the weather miserable as usual. I
am walking upstream against a tide of tourists on Oxford Street. Once upon a
time, this thoroughfare was flanked by magnificent edifices of renowned
department stores that catered for Mr. and Mrs. Well-to-do. Now it is a sea of
vapid vape shops, American candy stores and Primarks. Techno blares out front
doors. Why can’t they play music to educate the passers-by: Bach’s Goldberg
Variations, early Associates or Nick Drake? The air is polluted with exhaust
fumes and stale pizza. Unlike every other famous high street around the world,
Westminster Council never pedestrianized Oxford Street, hence the permanent
logjam of vehicles. That makes it convenient for balaclava-clad teenagers on
souped-up electric bikes to whip Smartphones from the hands of unsuspecting tourists
desperately searching Google Maps for the quickest escape route from
this retail dystopia. I’m heading towards Marble Arch, a knock-off Arc de
Triomphe much like the knock-off tat sold down Oxford Street. This was
original the site of Tyburn Tree, a twee name that hides a dark history; the
titular tree was London’s de facto gallows that could execute 24 felons at a
single pull of the lever. I fantasize about Parisian boulevards, Tokyo’s
crime-free streets, Cape Town’s stunning backdrop and Miami’s white beaches,
wishing I was anywhere but here…

I find
Seymour Street, a sub rosa locale that’s a two-minute walk from Marble Arch. I
rub my eyes in disbelief. Have I walked through a dokodemo door into
another city (Doraemon fans will understand). It’s a quaint backstreet
with bustling cafés and tempting independent restaurants, imbued with a parochial
urban atmosphere that you would never expect in the heart of London. You would remain
blissfully ignorant of its existence unless someone gave you a reason to venture
that way, and my reason is to meet a friend from whom I procured many a bottle
of fine wine back in my buying days. We’re long overdue a catch-up and Lurra was
recommended by his colleague. 

<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1740062430077-Vinous_lurra+interior.JPG">The interior of Lurra.

I had
never heard of Lurra before, though those in the know seem familiar with it. Lurra
specializes in Basque cuisine. The modern interior occupies a ground and upper
level, with low ceilings. It’s smaller than expected, with Scandi style tables
and chairs and banquettes across the back, above which are numerous cookery
books. It throngs with diners this Tuesday lunchtime and there’s an enticing hubbub
of noise. 

<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1740062562801-Vinous_chopping+tomatoes.jpg">The chef
dicing and slicing Feo de Tedula tomatoes for the evening service.

Unusually,
the open kitchen is on your left as you enter, so the heady scents of Basque
cuisine already make your mouth water before you’ve sat down. Sometimes you
know you love a restaurant before you’ve been handed the menu. When it arrives,
practically every dish calls my name.<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1740063093768-Vinous_gernika+peppers.JPG">We started our evening with the Gernika peppers.<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1740063154001-Vinous_anchovies.JPG">The Boquerones anchovies.

The Gernika
peppers are outstanding. They are a little different from the better-known Padrón
peppers, a little longer and larger, and slightly sweeter. Fresh, with just a
little crunch and a healthy seasoning of sea salt, these are quickly demolished.
The Boquerones anchovies are small but intense in flavor, the sweet red pepper
punchy and perhaps with just a little too much heat. Meanwhile, the Coombeshead
sourdough with salted butter is fresh out the oven, moist and so warm that
you have to leave it a couple of minutes before tearing a chunk. 

<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1740063325836-Vinous_iberico.JPG">Our main course was the&nbsp;5J Presa Ibérica, a traditional Iberian pork dish.<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1740062610911-Vinous_tomatoes.JPG">&nbsp;The Feo de Tedula tomato salad complemented the&nbsp;5J Presa Ibérica.

The 5J
Presa Ibérica with chimichurri is wonderful, the pork perfectly cooked and
tender, the chimichurri with just enough heat to liven the senses. Like many
main dishes, you pay by the size, and a smaller portion is perfectly adequate. It
is chaperoned by a side order of delicious Feo de Tedula tomatoes straight from
Navarra. Feo de Tedula can be translated as “the ugly one from Tedula,” as these
tomatoes are often misshapen. They are much sweeter than what you could find on
our own shores, even in the height of summer.

<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1740063521662-Vinous_cheesecake.JPG">This was one of the best cheesecakes I have ever encountered.

I
finish with the Basque cheesecake. It is perfect. The first mouthful is
blissful. It’s the best that I have ever eaten. Perfect light in consistency, it’s
a little sweeter than others, with a gossamer-thin burnt topping that demonstrates
delicacy of touch. I had resolved to eat half of it due to my dietary regimen,
but finding it impossible to resist just another spoonful, I beg my dining
companion to help. Lurra is worth visiting for the cheesecake alone. 

<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1740063748399-Vinous_castello+luigi.jpg">My
friend kindly bought two bottles. The 2010 Bianco del Ticino from
Castello Luigi is a Swiss white with which I am unfamiliar, so I message my
colleague, Nicolas Greinacher, who knows all about these kinds of things. He
replies that this comes from a single-hectare parcel of Chardonnay planted on calcareous soils
in 1989, the maiden vintage in 1996. It is highly sought-after, with prices to
match. The 2010 has a Marmite nose: you will love it or hate it depending upon
your preference for oxidation. It is strong but not overpowering, with grilled
hazelnuts, orange rind, smoke and damp hay, becoming slightly honeyed with
time. The oxidative element is potent on the palate too, quite acrid and very
nutty in style, with an arrestingly dry and bitter finish. Maybe it’s a couple
of years past its best, but I don’t mind it.

<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1740063819605-Vinous_angelus+1994.jpg">If
there is a better 1994 Bordeaux than the 1994 Angélus, born in a mediocre
growing season, then I have not tasted it. My friend and I used to vacuum up
this wine at <a target="_blank" href="https://vinous.com/articles/vinous-table-andrew-edmunds-london-uk-oct-2022">Andrew Edmunds</a> 20 years ago when it was listed
for around 40 quid a bottle, so I have a sentimental attachment. However, the
1994 is everything you could want from a mature Saint-Émilion without pretentiousness.
Gorgeous scents of red fruit, loam, chestnut and smoke blossom on the nose,
hinting at possibly 1995 rather than 1994. Merlot is in the driving seat. The
palate has wonderful balance and a keen line of acidity, fully mature yet
certainly showing no signs of reaching the end of its drinking window. Mellow with
pliant tannins softened by age, the Angélus boasts surprising depth and flesh, with
hints of dried blood and game towards the finish. I love this Angélus now as
much as I did back then. If you see a bottle, do yourself a favor.

Lurra is
an unexpected gem nestled in a less-ventured part of London, hiding out of
plain sight. It’s one of those places where I was planning a return visit as
soon as I entered its doors. There are so many dishes on the menu that I still
want to try. I appreciate the authenticity of ingredients and unfussy
presentation that allow flavors and sourcing to speak for themselves. Prices
are reasonable for London. Lurra treads a fine line, a classy restaurant without
Michelin-starred pretensions. 

I love
London…sometimes. 

&nbsp;© 2025, Vinous. No portion of this article may be copied, shared or redistributed without prior consent from Vinous. Doing so is not only a violation of our copyright but also threatens the survival of independent wine criticism.

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