Jamon Jamon: restaurant review

Nowhere really evokes as much of an instant getaway vibe as Jamon Jamon, the sunny joint right opposite the tube station in Belsize Park.

On a warm late summer evening the dining room is open to the street, the astroturf terrace filled with vivid red chairs, and flanked by tropical palms. It always seems busy in an all-day continental way – with that very NW3 mix of beshaded internationals, glossy couples, and businessmen devouring tapas and bottles of red wine.

It’s been here for ever, hasn’t it (although more recently renamed Jamon Jamon)? On a stretch that, due to its wide pavements and bountiful outdoor seating (populated, sadly, by too many chain restaurants), feels steadily European. There’s Chez Bob for a cocktail, Chez Nous for an old-school Parisian bistro vibe and Euphorium or Gails for decent coffee. Not to forget the cheapest bar in London, too.

First, let’s address the elephant in the room. Jamon Jamon is a resolutely old-fashioned joint, foodwise: don’t expect plates beloved in hip London tapas bars like Barrafina, Copita or Lobos. There’s no Iberican presa, no chargrilled octopus, no tuna tartare.

And if it reminds one a little of travelling to Spain in the early noughties, then so what?

Let’s dispatch the duds now: on our last visit grilled sardines, though easy on the eye (see below pic) were simply not as fresh as they should have been; and padron peppers, as big as baby’s booties, just too eye-wateringly bitter, even after they had cooled down.

What else? Pan con tomate didn’t yield the garlicky tomato hit so typical of the newer generation of tapas bars – but once we’d improvised by chucking in the garlic from the bowl of olives (which the manager persuaded us had “just been flown in from Spain that morning”) it was improved.

And yet a handful of dishes delivered. Pisto murcia is recommended: deeply rich, as if it had been slow-cooking for 24 hours, this chunky courgette, velvety aubergine, tomatoes and spice stew was crowned by a fried egg – which, yes, could have been handled more lightly – but nonetheless it satisfying, and easily mopped up with bread.

But if you try one dish at Jamon it should be the bacalao: soft, flaking flesh cooked with a light batter and dunked into a rich aioli. Perfection. And afterwards, be like the Spanish and share a plate of tangy manchego cheese with quince, with another lingering glass of vino tinto. It’s that kind of place.

Speaking of which, both house red and white wine is decent enough value, at £6.50 a large glass, or £18 a bottle; not too bad for NW3 these days.

So room for improvement all round for sure, but useful, and picturesque, enough for the famished – or tapas-craving – denizens of Haverstock Hill.