I drove past Lilypad earlier this year during a weekend trip to my hometown of Harrogate. The restaurant was called Frog then, a name too good to keep apparently. I’d not heard of it before but I was so tantalised with questions that I found myself researching it later that day. It looked to be a South American small plates restaurant, a combination I love to see. I’d always felt Harrogate missed a truly good South American spot. How could a place have such an influx of Italian restaurants and yet, for the longest time, the best we had from a whole continent was Las Iguanas?
Lilypad opened in April 2022. I visited on Saturday 29th October 2022 for lunch with two friends.
As this is my first ‘review’ and I’m approaching it as a sort of trial run, I wanted to take this opportunity to clear up a few things before I dive into my memory for all the details and anecdotes about my time at Lilypad. The term ‘review’ feels somewhat antiquated for what I want this to be. I would call it food travel writing but that implies globetrotting which I sadly cannot afford... it also makes me sound like a pretentious ass. I guess to be writing a review would make me a critic. And to be a critic terrifies me. I have no qualifications in journalism or any background in culinary cooking so surely they’d call me a hedonistic hack? Well, jokes on them. I’ve called myself it first!
With all that being said, doing this sort of thing can be expensive and time-consuming, so why bother? For the street cred, of course. I’ve worked in a few restaurants over the years. From kitchen porter in a greasy spoon to waiting tables in a Michelin Guide restaurant. Since then, my appreciation for food and those who put their blood, sweat and tears into it has continued to grow. There are those who can’t fathom why I or anyone would care so much about visiting ‘expensive', ‘pompous’ or ‘downright pretentious’ restaurants. To them I say; stand back or I’ll spit my champagne and caviar in your face. Nothing excites me more than the journey one can go on when taking a seat in a restaurant. It’s the only place where all your senses can be challenged (everyone should just go watch Ratatouille again).
I have only once before attempted to write like this. I went to a popular fine-dining Indian restaurant a couple of months ago that, to me, was completely void of soul. I wanted to compare it to the cobra-swirling curry houses of my memories and pinpoint what I loved most about Indian food culture in the UK. It ended up being an overly nostalgic mess, but the one thing I always quite liked about the unfinished piece was the loose categories I had conceived to make the comparisons. I had extrapolated them from my own subconscious formula, the rhythm I used when I would talk to friends about a restaurant. I have decided to repurpose them for this project:
OPENER: What you are currently reading is the opener, albeit an overly long one. A sort of ‘How I ended up here’ introduction, a why I wanted to go or who invited me disclaimer.
THE SPOT: You may see me refer to a restaurant as a ‘spot’ from time to time. I do this because George Orwell once said, “never use a long word where a short one will do”, and not because I’m grasping at straws to differentiate my writing from every other food critic out there. This is where I talk loosely about the establishment, my expectations and how I feel about the place on the first impression.
PURGATORY: That time before the food arrives. From the drinks to the music and atmosphere. I will always get one cocktail to start. Maybe then, depending on the circumstance, I’ll move on to wine… because I’m a wine guy and I’m tired of pretending I’m not!
FOOD: This chapter does what it says on the tin really. I’m gonna talk about the food.
COST: The ‘what did it cost me?’ question. Very important because I’m just about to finish a 15-month TV job, without a new one lined up... during winter... in an unprecedented cost of living crisis. Yay!
And finally, THE BOTTOM LINE; A ‘too long; didn’t read’ where I try and say something nice. I don’t believe in giving scores because I know different things matter to different people. I’ve always felt the best I can do is explore as many aspects of a spot as possible and then hand over my thoughts to the reader. It’s up to them to decipher whether the things that matter most to them are intriguing enough to warrant a trip.
Maybe, in the future, I’ll add a chapter on the toilets or something. Anyway, I don’t really have much else to say. If you’ve made it this far, I hope you find the rest entertaining. If you hate it, you’re over halfway so you may as well finish...
THE SPOT
The amphibian in the room here is that back in September, Frog was forced to change its name after Michelin starred ‘Frog by Adam Handling’ made a legal challenge against their use of the name. Pretty villainous stuff but who am I to say, anyone who dares try to use the name ‘The Hack’ should fear the full wrath of my 20-something junior-solicitor friend. I wasn’t aware of the name change until I tried to book a table and it saddened me to read about; some Masterchef ego, 200 miles away, applying the kind of pressure only a £200+ per person tasting menu can afford, on an independent with the simple ambitions of being a good local spot. I’ve not eaten at Adam Handling’s restaurant, and I doubt he is personally responsible, but I wanted to highlight it as it definitely seems to have left its mark on the newly named Lilypad. “[It] carries with it considerable sadness for us all”, is how they described in an Instagram post. Two months later, you wonder if there was ever a silver lining. No publicity is bad publicity, after all. I’m certainly talking about it and I’m the biggest food blogger in the world.
We arrived at 13:00 and were greeted by a young man behind the bar who said we could sit anywhere. We gravitated towards a booth and I quickly realised my perception of the place was a little bit... um... wrong. I was under the impression this was a restaurant but being in the space you quickly realise you’re in a bar with a small plates menu. It makes sense in hindsight. The location might be a little too far out of town for the less-casual weekend lunch crowd. In fact, there wasn’t much of a lunch crowd at all. That’s not to say it was empty, quite the contrary. We had a yummy mummy Pinot meet-up occupying a corner near us and a fair few regulars planted around, enjoying a beer or two.
Another thing you notice when taking a look around, and why Lilypad must have been the only viable option during the name change fiasco, is there are Frogs everywhere! Wall art, statues, ornaments. I dig it. It was also Halloween weekend. Even a Catholic-school boy like me could appreciate the effort being put into the seasonal additions.
PURGATORY
With all the drinking around us, we had a look at the cocktail menu. The consensus was good. The cocktail menu featured nine curated house cocktails, all of which had a unique Asian or South American twist. Wait... I thought this was a South American joint. Oops, again. As I found out at that very moment, Lilypad is an Asian/South American fusion bar and restaurant. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t dishearten me and my dreams of a fabulous Mexican or Peruvian spot opening up in Harrogate but I think I understand why; the local Las Iguanas was forced to shut down after all.
On recommendation, we ordered the ‘Toki Whiskey / tamari tincture / agave / purple shiso / oak’ (How hard is it to give a drink a name?). The drink was great. Definitely on the sweeter side but I was here for it. It’s clear to see a lot of care goes into the cocktails. The menu featured flavour and sensation notes for each drink too, which I thought was a nice touch. As for the rest of the drinks menu, there was a wide selection of beer with lots on tap - even their own brand lager aptly named 'Lilypad'. However, only a handful of wines.
Taking a look at the food menu, the first thing you’ll notice is the cryptic minimalist presentation. There are menu items here simplified only to their three most prominent ingredients. A style seen within molecular gastronomy, where detailing methods in the menu would spoil the ensuing surprise. Or on a tasting menu, where the element of choice is non-existent. One item on Lilypad’s menu (a dish I didn’t order) was presented as ‘Venison, Umeboshi, Capers’. So… seared venison loin with an umeboshi and caper au jus? Yum!... Well, no. When I asked the waiter they informed me it was actually a venison tartar dish. Also yum, but you see my point. As a result, there were a few things we ordered that were a little different to our expectations.
Moving on from my dysfunctional relationship with menu design, the menu again featured both Asian and South American dishes, leaning more towards Asian. As I stared at the cartoon chopstick-wielding frog that decorated the top right of the menu, I felt mocked (I only have myself and my poor research to blame, really). Next to this ‘frog-senpai’ was an adage; “Our menu is designed to be shared. But feel free to be selfish”. Cute suggestion but we had no plans to be selfish today. We asked what the popular dishes were and ordered them along with a few additional stocking fillers. The waiter mentioned all dishes would come as and when they were ready.
FOOD
First out of the fryer, literally, were the tamarind cauliflower and karaage chicken, which my autocorrect wants to call karate chicken (I’m sorry, it amused me). I started with the cauliflower but, woof, a bit too heavy on the citrus. The karaage chicken on the other hand was good. For those who don’t know, karaage is a Japanese fried chicken thigh, different to tempura or katsu. Nothing revolutionary but the Nori mayo dressing still teases me in my dreams.
Following that, we were brought a mango and bok choy noodle salad which, without a doubt, hit the spot for something refreshing after the initial two dishes. One of my friends stamped this as their favourite item but if you cared about their option, you’d be reading their blog. The dish had a gentle heat to it which I would have loved to crack up a notch. 🔥
Next were the baby back ribs and the kohlrabi fries. I wouldn’t normally go for ribs. I’m less keen on ‘sticky BBQ’ these days but I’m not entirely opposed to it. This was one of the dishes recommended by our waiter; He called it a centrepiece and he wasn’t wrong. It arrived as a monolith of pork, glazed in banana ketchup, topped with atchara. I’ll be the first to say it was tasty. The ‘atchara’, a pickled papaya, definitely elevated it in my mind. Just pickle me at this point, god damn it! Now... these kohlrabi fries! A small last-minute addition that I would absolutely recommend getting as a snack if you’re popping in for a drink. Kohlrabi is a turnip cabbage, not something I’d had before but count me pleasantly surprised.
Now we were all feeling pretty satisfied at this point, yet we had another ‘centrepiece’ and a side to come. I saw a flash of panic on my comrades’ faces when the waiter brought over our main event; a big ol’ fish! A whole black bream stuffed with corn salsa on butternut puree. A really nice bit of fish but the butternut puree overpowered, sadly. It looked good, I’ll give it that... even with its goofy buck-teeth.
Corn ribs arrived at this point too. Dressed in paprika, queso fresco and lime, they reminded me of a ‘disco cauliflower’ I once had in Liverpool (give that a google!). A bit of a divisive one at our table and I ate most of it. Divisive perhaps because of how utterly full we were at this point. Thumbs up for this one from me.
We let it settle and then asked to settle the bill, which came with a Freddo for each of us. 🐸
COST
I have nothing bad to say in this regard. There is good value to be had here. We ordered too much and our bill capped out at £78 including service, about £26 per person.
The fish alone was a lot larger than we were expecting and yet for £14, I can’t complain. Share that or the ribs with someone, get the noodles, the kohlrabi fries, corn ribs on the side and you’re set for less than £30.
THE BOTTOM LINE
“Lilypad is the future of menu design”.
You have to respect the ambition behind Lilypad. It wants to have a great menu but that doesn’t quite marry up. Its biggest strength is the bar, the drinks are interesting and the place is relaxed and welcoming. However, when you decipher the menu, the dishes are less interesting and complex than they initially appear. That being said, they are comforting and at those prices, who am I to complain?
