Crudelia review – ‘Fantastic weaving of culture, fun and fandom’

Tostada at Crudelia. Photograph: Chris Coulson / @chriscoulsonphotos

You think you know Mexican food? And Dalston’s culinary attractions? Wrong on both counts, I’m afraid! I have a little gem you’ve most likely missed, but without which your life would be poorer.

Let me explain. All Good (and their sister venue, Hackney Downs’ All Good Beer) is a bottle shop/bar just around the corner from the main drag down Balls Pond Road (don’t chuckle).

Inside a rudimentary pale-wood space, you can pick up bottles from Noble Rot (among hundreds of others) and beers with such hilarious names as Tim the Human Jellyfish, and even a zero-percenter: Tannenzäpfle, which is truly indistinguishable from the real hoppy deal.

But what sets it apart from three or four similar venues within a 15-minute walk is the out-of-this-world Mexican food from the lovingly dextrous fingers of Kat Addison.

Brought up between Mexico City and London, Kat heroically quit her job recently to learn how to cook. A research trip/family visit enlivened her imagination and, between recipe recommendations and head mashing mezcal hangovers, Crudelia was born (from cruda, the Mexican Spanish word for hungover). With a mass of dark curls, passion and drive to experiment, Kat gives you hope for the embattled sector.

‘The gold just keeps coming’

Our enterprising heroine bent the ear of her friend and co-owner Henry over drinks at The Gun (RIP) and Crudelia at All Good popped up three months ago. The response has brought her a permanent spot, and we foodies rejoice.

We’ve all been to the Tortillas/Wahacas of the city, and we’ve made our own sad tacos on a humdrum Thursday night. We therefore think we know Mexican cuisine — and are painfully wrong. How about cactus in brine, piled with pico de gallo, black beans and sprinkled with feta on a tostada? Picture olive tapenade and okra fist-fighting for your palate with an alien spike from the underused plant.

What about esquites? A common snack made by Kat’s mother. Think Mexican mac and cheese: a buttery, savoury corn pudding that defies even my eloquent description. Safe to say, I’d be happy to live off it: indulgent, oleaginous and sensational.

Or try sashimi-grade yellowfin tuna with a sauce based on the michelada (beer-based Bloody Marys — hunt it out, it’s amazing), inspired by fishermen Kat met on her travels. The mountainous purple amethyst cubes of ceviche, fresh cucumber and onion on a tostada is only £9! You couldn’t get a sniff of yellowfin for under £15 at many sushi joints across the city.

‘Ready for obliteration’: the assorted tacos. Photographs: Chris Coulson / @chriscoulsonphotos

The gold just keeps coming. A selection of tacos lines up, ready for obliteration. Lamb barbacoa, cooked in banana leaves instead of underground — comforting and dunkable in the habanero salsa for added wumph. Chicken al pastor: a pineapple-style riff on a kebab Kat sampled in Mesoamerica — sweet, spicy and gloriously messy. Pork, the plainer of the four, but a chipotle oyster mushroom version reminds you you’re alive. Oaxaca cheese, difficult to source and rather overwhelmed by the vicious heat. Yet if you like incineration, you’ll love it. Broth from the shredded, succulent lamb is also supplied — I shamefully sneaked my finger in twice.

Even if you’re just on the drinks train, the guacamole is lavish and the chips plentiful. De-alcoholised wine with yuzu and vanilla, or the respectable Can Sumoi house white, are some of the delights from the long fridges — but as you sit and sip, line your stomach.

There’s currently no dessert (though watch this space). The toilets have a hole in the floor, but also smell of roses. And yes, there are only stools and wooden cutlery. But street food should be served and priced accordingly, whether cocooned within walls or not. I don’t think I’ve ever said this in this column, but I think Kat is pricing herself short. Our food bill came to £40, which is criminal for such fantastic weaving of culture, fun and fandom. Hurry down before everyone catches on and be ready to see corn in a completely new light.

A glowing sign outside proclaims ‘ALL GOOD’, but I’d argue ‘GREAT’, ‘GENEROUS’ or even ‘GRAND’ might be more fitting.

Crudelia at All Good N1, 39 Balls Pond Road, N1 4BW.