EuroRevs

ZUMA review – date of visit Saturday October 2025

The bouncer at the door, the hidden cobbled pathway of Raphael Street, the Knightsbridge address discreetly possessing no view of Harrods while neighbouring a Green King Pub— are all really good things about ZUMA, London. No, really, they are.

Not many people talk about his upscale Japanese restaurant chain, as they do say, Nobu. It doesn’t boast an Omakase Menu. Nor a Michelin Star. Two things that, when it comes to eating raw fish in any Mainland Capital, regardless of what counts for supply-demand freshness, I have an open mind. By that I mean I don’t care.

Wagyu beef

Before we get into details, the interiors and all that vibey stuff, I have to mention I’ve been coming here for after work drinks, snacks, meals (always dinners), blow out birthdays for about a decade.

We give our names for the reservation for 5 at 7pm on a Saturday. I’m used to giving my coat (it was one of those London October days) but for the first time no offer was given to take it and I missed the Zuma emblazoned coat check. I didn’t know it yet but it was a sign of things to come.

We were sat with our backs to the cold wind blowing every opening of the entrance so I asked if it was possible to be sat somewhere else. My request was greeted with the response my grasp of both Knightsbridge service industry and Eastern European etiquette and culture deemed admissible.

All cosy with views of both chefs and grill at a wooden specimen of a table, not out of place in Ibiza: the comfortable deportation trumped their Wifi.

We need to get into the food and drink now as that’s what we’re here for.

Edamame salted and spicy arrives. I notice no one touches the spicy one and that’s because it tastes like warmed up Sriracha on top. I hear the miso soup tastes good from the other three diners. It was placed in front of me and when I handed the tea cup sized portion to my fellow diner, the contents did not pique my curiosity.

The aubergine main character at Zuma, now in the snacks and soup section of the menu, is not here to play. The buttery flesh has no give. It’s skin is so thin that any bitter char whispering smoke into the now baby aubergine cylinder shaped presentation, is obsolete.

The best bite of Aubergine in London yet

Creamy caramelised miso paste topped with a thin garnish complete the oblong platter that – since the Post Covid renovation –has changed in both mouth feel and ingredient choice.

I top each subsequent bite with a topping of generous wafer-thin slices of Jalapeño as that’s how I like it. If you ask for them as I did, they cut through the richness, which a toothsome sprig of sprightly coriander to substitute the interminable green on each moreish morsel, is my palate’s only suggestion.

The burnt tomato and aubergine salad made its way into inconsistent dishes unworthy of recommending in future while the Zuma salad, a little over £3 dearer was fresh, ingredient heavy and interesting.

The skewers – always a hit. The lamb chops devoured. The excitement of Umeboshi, mentaiko and shiso (perilla leaf) paired with scallop was undetectable. Each overzealous zebra char formation reminded me that I preferred succulence and sweetness and naturally generous mentaiko flavour; coral, that an in-shell scallop provided.

The chicken wings were passable. The miso cod was left to take away. The otoro was replaced by chu toro in the chef’s selection (special?)

I ordered otoro sashimi (that comes in 3 pieces per serving) expecting each piece to create that just-over-ice sheen like quality of moist melded marbling. What I wasn’t expecting, however, from this premium 3 biter was that the fat was clearly visible. It did not meld or marble. I couldn’t take a one biter without feeling a sheath-like cross section reminiscent of meaty, raw, connective tissue.

It may be a pleasant expectation for a particular cut of this mammal, of which I do not know. I also saw for the first time a glaring hue of green on the wasabi. Having observed the chefs at the table grate the fresh wasabi in all my previous visits, I was grateful for my request of Jalapeño, if not a touch nostalgic for the pure authentic zing that only freshly grated wasabi can bring.

The chopsticks were wooden, to be broken apart by hand as in any high street chain and no resting place for them either, as was previously.

The birthday desert assortment comes as a visual and tasting extravaganza, garnering a bit of a show and fanfare highlighting exotic fruit, matcha ice cream and a chocolate fondant – of which are not individually sold in the dessert menu. Which is a shame. As they are the best of the sum of parts. It’s not always complimentary and the assortment is dependent on the total table spend. This knowledge comes from casual and occasional visitations at ZUMA London, spanning a lengthy frame of time and every possible factor that could contradict this.

Overall Zuma London

Taste: 8/10

Service: 7.9/10

Value for Money: 5.9/10

Would I return? Absolutely – for my tried and tested. Would I take up the offer of assistance by a sommelier next time? Indeed. The Rosé from Uruguay didn’t hit the mark, although a flung guess at an under £100 bottle of white, the second time round, did.

Zuma London might not be as talked about these days as it once was, mostly tongue-in-cheek, particularly during Covid. However, it still has its hits and attentive staff, that may witter away into one when it’s a busy Saturday night. They did verbally mention that the 15% Service charge doesn’t include tips which is bold but in these economic times perhaps a sobering reflection on the real price of (fine) dining out. The total bill was over £900, including tip over £1000.       

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