Kitgum Kitchen — Restaurant in England

Date: 21st September 2024 Cost: £130 for two, inc. cocktails and bottle of wine

What a day. What a 24 hours! How does one register a patent? I think I’ve found a surefire cure for beating the post-holiday blues.

Step 1: travel home on a Friday. This means that even if you finally fish your stickerless permit out of that little cubbyhole behind the handbrake and park up more than 12 hours after setting off from your sweet rented cottage in the North Lakes, you don’t feel bad about staying up late to watch a Jake Gyllenhaal thriller and finish off the clammy holiday cheese that’s been stewing in the boot all that time, because there’s no work tomorrow.

Step 2: go for a run along the seafront the following morning. Not a long one, mind - just long enough to get enough of a sweat on that your subsequent dip is refreshing and enlivening, rather than instantly regrettable.

Step 3: go and see David Gilmour play a matinee dress rehearsal show for £30 within walking distance of your house. Difficult to replicate, come to think of it.

Step 4: eat at Kitgum. In fact, you can skip steps 1-3. Just eat at Kitgum. You don’t even need to be beating the post-holiday blues, or any kind of blues. Just eat at Kitgum. It’s like what they say about Brits and the root of our collective drinking problem: it’s because it’s the solution to everything. Birthday? Drink. Funeral? Drink? Promotion? Kink. Redundant? Kinkum. Married? Kitkum. Dumped? Kitgum. Kitgum Kitgum Kitgum - any old excuse.

I’d barely recovered from the gig before I lost my shit all over again, only this time it was at the sheer, draw-dropping quality of my dinner. I was expecting good things. Any time a restaurant has a backstory about the fusion of one cuisine with another they’re essentially claiming they’ve improved the first by embellishing it with the second. In this case, Gujarati home cooking was the foundation, with an East African flourish adding the extra oomph, so you can see why.

But boy did they deliver. My cocktail, the ginger-y jaggery-y gin one, was nicer than Mich’s, a grapefruit tequila thing, and went better with the delicious oily sort of thick poppadom I’m sure there’s a name for they served on the house. The music was good, the decor was simple, the waitress was helpful, the food on the table next door looked amazing and my I’ve-got-a-good-feeling-about-this-meter was off the charts. Everything was small and sharey like is the trend these days and split on the menu into untitled starters, mains, sides and puds, albeit with no discernible difference between the size of the portions from the former two, from which we genuinely wanted to try every single thing.

The Ismaili daal with our first ladi pav milk bread and the katlesi fishcakes came out first, and almost immediately we both knew we’d have to be tactical about this: this was food to be savoured. Appetites well and truly whetted, we both feigned interest in forensic analysis of the afternoon’s setlist while keeping an eye on the other's intake. Soon what was left of the daal was joined by the bhinda okra peanut curry, the samaki pili pili - a scotch bonnet-buttered sea bass - and the evening’s crowning glory: the kalio, a lamb curry with estate agent’s ‘crispy potato’ (pomsticks).

The best thing I can say about it all is Kitgum had made their dishes come to more than the sum of their contra-continental parts. The kalio was beautifully cooked - tender without ‘fatty bits’ - but it was the combination of tastes - unique but complementary - that really made it sing. (Top tip: pair it with the raita.) The bhinda got better with every bite, and the butter had melted into the sea bass, infusing it with a tingly richness I’d not experienced from fish before. The only downside to the entire evening was the temperature I reached towards the end of the meal, necessitating a time-out in the fresh air outside.

I wanted to try the remaining unordered plates, but we settled for a final ladi pav to mop up every last drop of flavour we could find. At least we’ve got a reason to go back now....

We booked an outside table based on a Facebook page that hosted a video of a large outdoor area, but this may have been a one-off street party at another location. I only mention this because under no circumstances do you want to eat OUTSIDE Kitgum. We were downwind from a Dog Refuse Bin and boy, was it fresh! This is no judgment on the establishment but you simply will not be able to relax, enjoy their food and have a good night without a gallows black humour and some zen management skills or take your own incence. We would have stayed longer and had dessert but I couldn't take it anymore. It's typical of Brighton council to sell rents for any business application and then not follow-up or rationally consider how everything clicks together. It's their fault, solely, and not Kitgums.

Anyway, that perhaps overlong caveat aside..... these are lovely young people serving tasty food at decent small plate prices. You're talking 5.5 for veggie stuff like battered Cauliflower florets, which were lovely, up to 13.5 for Bass (which was the star of the show, for us) and Pork Belly which was around 11.5 if I recall. Drinks included local beers and my partners white wine was well received. I can't find a current menu online which indicates seasonal rotation so we'll definitely return but we will be BOOKING INSIDE.

Overall aside from the fact that my partner is so much fun it didn't really matter, I'd say it wasn't entirely pleasant eating here, being a distracting and gross-out funny start to our evening. This restaurant, like hundreds of other businesses, deserves better of Brighton & Hove council who will happily rinse and repeat tenants with no concern for their prosperity or environment. A plague on all their houses. And more...

I really wanted to like this restaurant. After having read about the origins of this establishment and the fact that it came highly recommended from the Roti King himself, I knew I had to try it. It was disappointing in all aspects - food, service and the atmosphere.

Food - okay, prices - extortionate, portions - minuscule, however I understand that the owner considers this a reasonable price for some fried cauliflower and chicken. Also, using Pakistani beef leg for Nihari and not using halal meat (except for the chicken) doesn’t feel right to me.

Service - Extremely slow and lacking. We waited ages for our food to come out and even when it did come out, it came out 1 by 1, in long intervals. Not to mention that they forgot half our order… there were only 2 other tables to serve. I dare to imagine what it would even be like when the restaurant has more than 3 tables to serve..

Atmosphere - it was alright at first, however a couple came who came in half way were seated on a table 3 cm away from us when the rest of the restaurant was EMPTY. Why? I will never understand. There was maybe another couple that came during our time there and that’s it. It was a bit bizarre and felt like we were on a double date.

We even considered leaving an hour after we came because some of our food was still pending. And then came the donation and service charge. I regret not asking for the service charge to be removed. Also, if you want to donate, donate on your own accord. Don’t force it on your customers, please.

All in all, I am sorry to say that this will be my first...