Pickled, Fermented, and Very Pleased About It

Walking into Little Duck the Picklery on a Saturday evening, the first thing that hits you is how beautifully dim it is — candlelight everywhere, the kind of light that makes everyone look like they're in a Vermeer painting. The two window tables either side of the entrance are absurdly cute, and ahead of you a long communal dining table runs practically up to the open kitchen, with additional seating ringing the edges of the room. It's an intimate space that somehow doesn't feel cramped, and the noise level sits at exactly the right pitch — lively enough that you're not whispering, quiet enough that you're not shouting.

The menu was a good length — enough choice without the anxiety spiral of too many options. We kicked off with bread and house butter, which was genuinely excellent, alongside some pickles and ferments that set the tone nicely. A glass of Stajerska Kollektiv and Marius Long kept us company through those opening courses. The raw beef with buckwheat was a highlight — the crunch of the buckwheat giving it a lovely textural lift — and a glass of Claus Preisinger alongside it was a smart match. The marinated belotti beans on goats' curd with confit garlic was another strong plate; simple on paper, properly good in the eating.

Dessert was a portokalopita — a Greek orange cake situation that was gloriously calorie-dense — matched with a sweet Cerruti Moscato from Italy, which rounded things off very well. What we appreciated throughout was that the wines by the glass were properly measured, which is always reassuring and not always a given. The staff were attentive without hovering, and the ingredients throughout spoke for themselves.

All told, a really good meal — but we'd clock this near the top of what we'd comfortably spend at a bistro-style place. Worth it, though only just, and we'd absolutely go back.