Set within the storied surrounds of Old Spitalfields Market, the new outpost of Holy Carrot feels like a natural next step for Irina Linovich’s vegetable-led vision. Known for its bold, plant-first cooking, this Spitalfields opening leans vegetarian (a shift from its fully vegan Notting Hill sibling), expanding the offering without losing any of the fire, flair, or philosophy that’s built its following.
There’s something quietly confident about the space. A former bank, complete with lofty ceilings and generous windows framing Brushfield Street on one side and the hum of the market on the other, it strikes that elusive balance: relaxed enough for a sunny lunch, yet primed to glow come evening service, all candlelight and crisp linens.
And on a bright April afternoon – doors open, breeze drifting through, curtains gently lifting – it’s hard to imagine a better setting.
Service, led by the ever-cheerful Julia, is spot on. Knowledgeable without being rehearsed, warm without overstepping. A self-confessed meat eater turned Holy Carrot evangelist, she guides with genuine enthusiasm – and she’s not wrong. You don’t miss the meat here. Not even slightly.
Drinks first: two vodka martinis, one dirty, one dry. Ice-cold, crystal clear, unapologetically sharp. Alongside, “Holy D’ourvres”– seasonal crudités with whipped tahini – a reminder, if ever one were needed, of what vegetables can (and should) taste like.
The food that follows is where things really get interesting. Coal-cooked beets with ezme bring deep, smoky intensity and a punchy, textured finish. The tofu – dubbed “sexy” and rightly so – arrives with smoked carrot XO and mustard greens, delivering umami in spades. Burrata, softened with smoked pepper and lifted by citrus, is a study in balance. Frankly, all must-orders.
Then comes a change of pace: a fermented koji-based flatbread topped with new season peas, courgette, and wild garlic. Light, delicate, quietly complex – elevated further by a cheese-stuffed courgette flower that feels almost indulgent.
Mains don’t miss a beat. A Caesar salad – bright, sharp, generously dotted with plump capers – sings with freshness, especially alongside golden, skin-on fries and a punchy garlic aioli. Opposite, a king oyster mushroom vol-au-vent delivers richness and depth, the peppercorn and pulse sauce adding body to a dish that’s all about texture and comfort.
And then, because restraint isn’t always the right call – a burnt Basque cheesecake to share. Creamy, caramelised, completely worth it.
Holy Carrot doesn’t just make vegetables the star – it gives them swagger. It’s bold, smoky, inventive cooking that feels both thoughtful and indulgent. A menu that satisfies, surprises, and lingers.
You’ll come curious. You’ll leave convinced.
