Turning onto ‘hidden’ Bruton Place, just off Berkley Square in London’s well-at-heel Mayfair is like being ushered into a parallel foodie universe - designer boutiques and flashy car show rooms replaced by delis, gastropubs, restaurants, and even a dedicated Gorgonzola bar.
If you want to escape the hubbub – and eat well – it’s a serene part of the city to slip into. That serenity continuing into one of the mews’ most exciting destinations – The Cocochine.
The four-storey townhouse (converted to include a basement cellar, ground floor restaurant, first floor chef’s dining experience, and upper floor private dining room), is not just a business to chef patron Larry Jayasekara, it’s a lifestyle, a passion and (when he’s not with his family) his second home.
Before taking on the keys to the property with investors last year, Larry turned heads leading the kitchens of Gordon Ramsay’s Petrus, retaining the destination’s Michelin Star, and landing a National Chef of the Year award from the Craft Guild of Chefs.
The Cocochine oozes pared back luxury. It’s not a ‘showy’ restaurant. But the absolute attention to quality and craftsmanship is evident with every step you take after peeling back the thick velveteen curtain at the entrance, revealing the dimly, sexily lit, cocooning setting.
As is the case with all good things, the devil is in the detail here. The gorgeously appointed bathroom. The leather-clad handrails and deeply piled carpeting of stairwell. The specially commissioned, intricately cut, bespoke mosaic beneath your feet on the first floor. Glassware is delicately stemmed. Tactile crockery sourced from Limoges. Chef even conceals (like a treasure chest) a box of handmade knives, brought to the table as main courses are delivered.
 | Chef patron Larry has exclusive access to an incredible array of fruit, vegetables, foraged ingredients, game, meat and seafood for the restaurant |
There’s not a single element that hasn’t been considered in giving The Cocochine its own unique fingerprint.
We took one of eight coveted seats at the ‘chef’s table’, perched at the (very comfortable for this short person) bench, with a window directly into the theatre of the kitchen where everything runs like clockwork, the team nimbly and calmly navigating the space, rolling pie pastry to order, butchering down steak, shaving vegetables on mandolins and releasing plumes of smoke as they sear meat over charcoal.
It’s a multi-sensory experience, immersing diners right in the action, where they can watch, smell, taste and hear everything.
Shall we move onto the food? Which is a sensation – let's put that out there at the start.
Anyone who appreciates great food knows looks only go so far. You can tart up anything to make it Insta-attractive. What really, truly matters is the ingredients, and the flavours they impart.
Larry is lucky (and so proud) to have access to his own culinary playground – one of the restaurant’s owners operating the regenerative Rowler Estate in Northampton, and having exclusive rights over fishing waters at Tanera Mor in Scotland’s Inner Hebrides.
The expanse of ingredients available to The Cocochine kitchen is dizzying and enviable - from seafood and shellfish, to estate grown rapeseed oil, flour, rare breed beef, lamb, pork, foraged wild foods, and fruit and vegetables curated and cared for by the ex-Kew head gardener.
 | The chef's table gives a window directly into the theatrics of the kitchen |
Larry travels up every Sunday to explore the bounty, selecting each item - be it an heirloom tomato or borage petals – at its peak.
Lunch is a steal, and (for London) an affordable entry point to The Cocochine experience, priced at £55 for three courses.
Chef set out his stall on our visit with a trio of canapes, displaying classic technique, restrain, and a refined palate.
Highlights included a dainty tartlet layered with sweet tomato confit, milky burrata, confetti-like compressed tomatoes, and a sprinkling of wakame seaweed, and one-bite doughnuts, brimming with Comte and garnished with a jaw-dropping flourish of truffle shavings. At this point, we already knew Larry was speaking our language.
Our starter of Scottish lobster and Norwegian king crab raviolo in a shellfish bisque was perfection. A bed of sweet fennel, the deftly handled pasta unfurling on top, filled generously with juicy nuggets of shellfish, and a blanket of briny, silky, frothy bisque to finish. There’s a thin line to walk when crafting bisque (which can often be taken too far), but the kitchen had judged it well, ushering out the very essence of the ingredients, without veering into the ‘too rich’ territory. We loved the little pops of yuzu gel.
An absolute must order is the Rowler Farm garden salad, which (if it weren’t for intervention from front of house, who implore everyone to try it) could be swiftly overlooked - “oh salad, yawn, yawn, boring”. But this is a plate of food that epitomises The Cocochine, changing every week depending on what’s ripe, and what’s most delicious in the kitchen garden and estate grounds.
On our visit there were 64 ingredients (diners receive a printed list) tumbled together, with a new taste, texture or sensation punctuating every bite. It reminded me of being a child, toddling around the garden or allotment with my dad, hungrily absorbing information, and eating along the way.
One mouthful of salad could comprise of pesto, the earthy snap of fried sage, a droplet of lemon verbena oil and a courgette flower, or a frond of dill, pipette of rhubarb puree, violet-coloured pea flower, parsnip crisp and micro broccoli. I will remember it for a very long time indeed.
 | Do not leave without ordering the incredible salad |
As we recovered from the surprise of the salad there was bread. I can’t tell you how difficult it is for restaurants to make their own bread. Getting it right relies on so many factors, which is why the majority of eateries turn to their good old local bakery. It’s a rare treat to be able to enjoy homemade bread in any eatery today, so when you’re in a place of this calibre, it’s a must in my opinion.
We swooned (actually swooned) over what was put in front of us. The stickily-glazed whirly brioche buns, which defied gravity as we picked them up. Having been steamed, they were featherlight, swirled with caramelised onions, curry and pandan leaves.
The crusty sharing mini sourdough loaf was equally exceptional. Made to a more lactic, high hydration style, it erred to the milkier, creamier end of the sourdough spectrum, rather than being eye-wincingly sharp. Bursting it open, inhaling the fug of steam, and slathering it with truffle butter was quite the experience.
After a brief respite, and a topping up with a very good Austrian red, armed with our hand-picked knives (the handles echo the design of the stairwell railings) we moved on.
To Rowler Farm lamb shoulder, cooked for 48 hours, the skin crisped and turned gloriously golden over barbecue coals. Married with a sweet but deeply flavoured tomato fondant, lamb jus and fresh peas which tasted like they’d just been plucked from their pods, it tasted of high summer.
There was also a flaky-edged, buttery chicken and leek pie, as already described, rolled and filled to order. Inside, Arnaud chicken (revered for its flavour) was bound in a savoury, umami sauce, tempered by the surprise addition of Gjetost. This highly thermised, caramelised brown cheese is much-loved in its native Norway, where it’s eaten as a snack with crackers and biscuits (a comfort food not unlike our own Nutella on toast).
Fudgy and intensely sweet it gave a nod to Larry’s Sri Lankan roots, bringing complex, jaggery-like flavours to the overall eat. I adored the lashings (they weren’t shy with it) of chicken jus, and smooth, bosky, spoon-lickingly-good mushroom garnish too.
For mopping there was a portion of the restaurant’s chips. Paying a tenner for a bowl of chips might strike as extravagant (especially as they’re not smothered in truffle and Parmesan) but these are no ordinary fries. They’re layered, herb brushed, slabs of French-style potato pave, seasoned beautifully, and crisply moreish. More than enough for two to share too.
 | Larry's food shows an enormous amount of restraint, allowing each carefully chosen ingredient to shine |
Rounding off the afternoon were a frothy, true chocolate mousse made with single-origin Suffolk bean-to-bar chocolate, anointed with button-sized orange biscuits and seasoned with just the right dash of salt, and a nostalgically creamy ‘watalappam’ Sri Lankan creme caramel topped with the ripest mango sorbet.
Oh, and we can’t forget to mention the teensy, warm citrus madeleines delivered right at the end of the meal. Is there anything more satisfying?
What can we say about this place that hasn’t already been said? The Cocochine offers a seductive setting, and a is in the hands of a dedicated, driven team clearly excited to be working with such incredible ingredients, producing a menu that lets the land do the talking.
Find out more and book here.
