The Black Eel review – ‘Can I ever forgive Fisher?’

Billy Fisher’s plates at Riley’s. Photograph: Anne Berentsen

Have you ever been swimming with eels? A nightmare for some, a strange fascination for my friend and me.

We spent last night sampling treats and tipples in the “Buckingham Palace of pie shops”.

The year is 1862: the Cooke family built a temple to pies and eels just down from the newly built railway station on Kingsland Road.

Art Nouveau embellishments and a flair for giving the people what they wanted (the slimy snakes) meant that this institution lasted a remarkable 134 years.

The famous Cookes are still slinging their wares in Hoxton, but after 1996 the space played host first to a Chinese restaurant called Shanghai (itself a local institution) and later to a board game café named Draughts.

Now, Exale Brewery have really put the time into lovingly restoring the Grade II listed building into a warren-like nest of good wines and good times.

The bar stretches along one side of the room with stools, standing tables and arching Edwardian-branded mirrors.

Through a small doorway lies the cavernous square dining room, and on the other fork, a snugger, less grand room with dimmed lights and little booth tables.

A games room with shuffleboard and retro screens sits around another corner, along with a massive (unfinished) beer garden that rings the breadth of the venue, plus – through another door and upstairs – a karaoke room.

To the left is the eel tank, which we’re told once held live eels.

We sip/scoff a selection of Schöfferhofer low-and-no brews (pineapple and grapefruit being the stars) and many glasses of pale Chin Chin wine for my fun-loving date.

Gossip and slithering scandal feel very appropriate for the tank after dinner; the lights are accommodatingly subtle and flickering.

Food is by Billy Fisher and his new project, Riley’s.

Back in the grand old dining room, the marble, tiles and wood – though impressive – do play havoc with the acoustics.

Dark maroon plates accumulate quickly on our little wooden table. A reinvented Sunday roast is a slightly odd experience for a Thursday night, but we press on.

Chestnut mushrooms steep in a deep Bourguignon-style sauce, sitting with grilled courgette in sauce vierge and a tang of chilli and feta.

The new potatoes have a perfect, almost reptilian skin on them – a deeply munchable spud. Leek and cheese croquettes sit with a heavy slaw and, overall, the umami and stodginess are perfect for the gastro-pub dine-and-drink concept.

A separate plate arrives for me, piled high with meat and meat alone (thanks to my pesky friend).

Breaded chicken thigh is a little schnitzel-like, with a rather watery ranch dressing and ’nduja butter.

Pork rib is somewhat dry, with the promised hot honey and pickles seemingly lost in transit. A cheeseburger is elevated, but not by much.

Apple turnovers are pretty shells of pastry, and the toffee sauce is a well-guarded secret.

The everyday menu promises steamed mussels, fish buns, beef flatbread with Basque cheesecake and Eton mess for ends.

Mediterranean-inspired, seasonal cooking around a small-plate concept is mentioned on the website.

What we get is more on the classic British side, with small hints of the Med sprinkled rather sparingly throughout.

The energy is high, however, with classics such as Franz Ferdinand blasting through the many different rooms.

Everything feels a little mid-2000s-coded, with dark reds and browns and graphic dragon wallpaper. It’s like a pub in Camden in 2004, but cleaner, and with better food.

This unassuming ancient entrance hides a burrowing world of hedonism, with room for serious meals, serious drinking, and unserious high jinks.

I mean, where else in the city can you say you got drunk in an eel tank? The food is on the Spartan side, but it’s early days.

However, can I ever forgive Fisher for leaving the titular anguilliformes off the menu?

The Black Eel
41 Kingsland High Street
E8 2JS