Vietnamese cuisine isn’t hard to find in London. Nor are rooftop restaurants. But authentic home-cooking, by an all-female Vietnamese team, in a central rooftop terrace with panoramic views? Now that’s hard to find.
Ăn-đi Supper Club serves up a carefully considered combination of boujee London glam alongside humble techniques of Vietnamese cooking. The cooking is homely, but the setting is otherworldly: up to 12 diners are invited to sip free-flowing prosecco, sake, or sparkling wine as they enjoy Vietnamese delicacies over unobstructed London landmarks.
It’s no secret that supper clubs are making a comeback. North London is rife with young, 30-something creatives merging food with live music, fashion, and photography. Supper clubs are no longer just about the food, but about the vibe.
Yet a hole has been left in Central London; small venues are too expensive to hire, and the minimalist, home-spun aesthetic that thrives in the boroughs of Hackney doesn’t quite hold up in flashier corners of the City of London.
Vanessa and Kaitlin, the minds behind Ăn-đi Supper Club, have combined the humble warmth of dinner time eating, against the elevated elegance of a skyline view – a view which would typically set diners back hundreds of pounds.
Their menu is free from any sort of pretentious pomp we may expect from a venue with similar attributes. No foams or liquid nitrogen here – they’re serving their native Vietnamese cuisine, which is the food we want to eat.
The evening begins with a drinks reception in the lobby, opened up by Vanessa’s welcoming warmth. Guests are then invited to sit at the table, as Kaitlin oversees the front of house with a keen eye, topping up glasses with militant precision.
The wait for food is short – the first course is brought out promptly. Prawn crackers are always a welcome introduction to dinner. But when fried in beef fat and served alongside a Hoi An chicken salad, spiced delicately with ginger and hand-selected fresh Vietnamese herbs, they become an appetiser in their own right.
Next arrives a tray of Pad Kra Pao. Holy basil runs through slowly simmered beef, nestled in shells of butterleaf lettuce. Before we can begin biting with carnivorous frenzy, Vanessa invites us to drizzle her homemade chilli oil over each nest. Don’t expect a similar consistency to what you find in a jar: this one’s aromatic, smooth, with a nuttier backdrop than most packaged stuff. You can’t buy it anywhere else, but Vanessa makes sure you don’t leave empty-handed, gifting each guest with a jar to take home.
Chicken wings arrive next, although they are so soft and so dainty that I’m more inclined to call them lollipops. They are crisp and light, perfect for dipping into the silky, umami-rich fish sauce served beside.
The savouries are rounded off by a big, slurpable bowl of beef noodle soup. Generous chunks of beef melt into the full-bodied broth. The appropriate etiquette is clear: get stuck in.
Vanessa, the chef behind Ăn-đi, clearly wants her guests to leave all self-awareness at the door. Food is about comfort and enjoyment, home warmth, and creating bonds. Vanessa is a self-taught chef, learning her culinary skills from generational hand-downs. Ăn-đi Supper Club feels like glimpsing into the rich history of a Vietnamese cuisine, from the comforts of a 360-degree view, that is.
After a few more glasses of sparkling fizz, the night is rounded off with mango sticky rice. This Thai dish would ordinarily feel like a bit of a struggle after a 4-course dinner. Yet here it goes down with ease – I guess that’s what happens when you swap cream and butter for fresh vegetables and home-fermented vegetables.
Luxury shouldn’t cost a fortune. Ăn-đi’s Supper Club boasts a richness more complex than the eye-watering wine lists and 20-course dinners diners are used to. There is a fullness that runs through the night, from the reception to the food.
Ăn-đi translates to please eat or eat more. Here, this message is clear: indulge, get stuck in, and fill yourself with the homeliest food London has to offer. Tickets are available here.
