Rebato's: worth raving about?

Back in the Eighties when government ministers still drank alcohol and enjoyed
themselves, the Spanish restaurant Rebato’s was a popular political haunt. Its heyday has passed, but lots of MPs, including Kenneth Clarke, still go there.

As do spies - one famously left his laptop there two years ago. It’s the smartest and most expensive in a glut of Portuguese and Spanish eating
houses along South Lambeth Road.

The waiters dress as Spanish and Italian waiters always did back in those days -sometimes they hurry forward to light your fags - and there are carnations on the tables. Gloomy oil paintings sit in the alcoves of the dining room, aping the antique architecture of the place. An abundance of potted plants flourish
under the skylights, which must make it a nice bright spot in the daytime.

My friend, who is a busy bundle of fashion gossip and expensive
handbags, has been urging me to come here for months. She usually eats in
places like Momo and San Lorenzo, but Rebato’s has been her local since
childhood and she adores it. I didn’t share her passion. The thing I did love
were the smooth and delicious chicken livers wrapped in good bacon
which came as part of our starter, a chef’s selection of tapas for two. The
other tapas - poached salmon, meatballs, marinated squid, prawns and anchovies -were a bit ordinary and low on flavour. The batons of white bread from the
Italian bakery next door were excellent, though.

Rebato’s version of the classic Spanish dish, Zarzuela de pescado, a
mixed fish stew with a lobster and brandy sauce, came with salmon, skate, halibut,
monkfish, mussels and large and small prawns. This is more variety than
necessary. The sauce was a little sickly, when it should be spicy and fragrant. It was a bit of a big old squidgy mess and it came with carrots and sprouts.
Sprouts? Oh well, only 103 shopping days to Christmas. Fashion Girl had
fried octopus rings that were ‘a bit greasy’. We shared an almond tart off
the ‘sweet trolley’ which was a decent moist piece of cake.

On a Monday night the place was busy but not lively. Out front is the
tapas bar, which looks much more inviting - plush velvety seating and a
bar holding a display unit full of old-fashioned tapas and a Serrano ham. The bar was full of smiling young people, drinking and grazing.

Out back in the dining room where we were, the tables were full of middle-aged people, all of whom looked slightly awkward, as though they were tourists or work colleagues.

The Fashion Girl says, ‘They always greet you like an old friend. It’s
relaxed, not flash - it’s a perfect local.’ Across the room was a Chinese man
who looked ecstatically happy and was enthusiastic in calling the staff by
their names. His grin was almost lunatic - I guess he likes it here. I tried
to imagine El Presidente Blair eating here, and failed, then found myself
warming to Rebato’s passé air.

Rebato's
169 South Lambeth Road, SW8 1XW