Nestled in a discreet alley in Mayfair, The Cocochine offers an experience that combines the elegance of a four-story townhouse, the warmth of a passionate team, and the precision of high cuisine where France, Great Britain, and Sri Lanka whisper to each other. At the helm, Larry Jayasekara, the charismatic chef-owner, orchestrates a tasting menu of 11 courses nourished by his farm Rowler Farm (Northamptonshire) and his fishing from Tanera Island (west of Scotland). At the Chef’s Counter (eight seats), immersion is total: impeccable breads, meticulously crafted canapés, a marine chapter of anthology, game with cocoa accents, and desserts with scents of Ceylon. A confidential address with a savory staging, ideal for enhancing an evening in Mayfair or a fine fixed lunch.
Just steps from Berkeley Square, the charming Bruton Place lines up reinvented stables and townhouses. It is here that The Cocochine rises, floor by floor, facing its culinary counterpart, the Rex Deli. The ground floor hosts a room dressed with caramel leather armchairs that have an almost princely posture; at the top, a large private lounge; between the two, the famous Chef’s Counter, eight stools facing the culinary theater. The spirit of the house? An author’s cuisine where French and British influences flirt with Sinhala nuances, driven by an unabashed obsession with traceability.
Bruton Place, Mayfair’s best-kept secret
In this delightful mews, away from the hustle and bustle, the restaurant plays the card of discreet chic: tempered light, silky textures, precise gestures. One enters here as one would close a parenthesis, ready to be guided by a sure hand. The address is intimate, muffled, but never stilted: the room breathes, conversation flows, and appetite sharpens.
The chef and his philosophy
Originally from Sri Lanka, having passed through high-profile establishments (Pétrus, Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons, Marcus Wareing), Larry Jayasekara is a bon vivant who claims excellence without ostentation. His signature? Franco-British flavors with a sharp design, warmed by a breath of Sri Lankan spices and herbs. At the counter, one can see the brigade delicately placing miniature elements with jeweler-like concentration; in the next moment, one catches a burst of laughter: precision does not hinder joy.
From the farm and the island to the plate
More than a locavore discourse, a whole ecosystem: Rowler Farm, 100 acres in Northamptonshire, supplies nearly 95% of the restaurant and deli’s ingredients, even the flowers that adorn the tables. On the seafood side, the team works with fish from an island that belongs to them, Tanera Island, in the Hebrides: huge scallops, turbot, lobster, langoustines… An exceptional base, tailored for detail.
The ritual of prelude: bubbles, bread, and small bites
A glass of Billecart-Salmon opens the ball, accompanied by rosemary popcorn and Sri Lankan cashews brushed with chili and curry leaves: the nose awakens, the mouth stretches. Then comes a duo of breads that could sway the will: flaky brioche with caramelized onions, thyme, and curry leaves, glazed with brown butter; sourdough ball with rosemary, draped in a veil of kithul (palm flower syrup). Normandy butter with salt crystals on one side; on the other, whipped brown butter with fresh cream and black truffle: hard to stay composed.
Canapés, between high precision and indulgence
The miniature takes center stage in three acts. Tartlet of wild trout eggs, subtly marinated (soy, mirin, yuzu), punctuated with chives: brilliance, iodine, freshness. Ultra-light beignet filled with Comté 36 months in truffle sauce, topped with a cloud of Parmigiano 60 months: lacteal warmth and umami. Finally, homemade “pringle”: a dehydrated potato cracker, stuffed with onion cream cheese, crowned with Oscietra caviar: irresistible crisp-soft.
Heading to Tanera: the marine chapter
A Godello from Bierzo (Polvorete) accompanies a beautifully crafted marine series. Otoro of bluefin tuna (belly) glazed with 60-month aged soy sauce, punctuated with Oscietra, small croutons, and a vinegar gel to tie it all together. Ceylon Crab Salad: royal crab meat, curry leaves, and yogurt, apple jelly, and kalamansi; the delicacy of the crustacean takes on a zesty accent. Huge Scottish scallop, caressed with Alsatian smoked bacon and kombu, dotted with Arctic lingonberries and pickled chanterelles, all draped in coconut milk: briny, smoky, creamy, rounded. Generous lobster (~400 g), glazed with ginger and lobster sauce, served with fresh cream: power and silk. Finally, XXL langoustine, poached in its oil, placed on Jerusalem artichoke, edamame, and seaweed, with a touch of caviar, slightly spiced shellfish bisque: depth and verticality.
The earth dish: sika and bitter chocolate
Time for sika from Rowler Farm, aged fourteen days, served pink with a Sri Lankan sambol of coconut, pickled onion, and a hint of chili, then bound by a sauce of bitter chocolate. Paired with a Zweigelt with soft fruits that caresses without dominating. A dish of character, precise and vibrant.
Sunny finale: desserts inspired by Sinhala
The Ceylon pineapple sorbet combines radiant sweetness and the tension of spices: cardamom, sea salt, and chili as a wink that awakens the palate. The Ceylon caramel cream revisits a classic: coconut cream set with eggs, jaggery and vanilla, topped with fresh cream, gold leaf, and jaggery caramel. Sunny, silky, addictive.
Service, rhythm, and experience at the Chef’s Counter
At the Chef’s Counter, eight guests observe the choreography of a brigade that assembles to the second. Nothing is rushed: each course is presented, each texture explained, each flavor has its moment to shine. The kitchen unfolds like a crescendo celebration, punctuated by glances, exchanges, and, when the chef is present, a cordial greeting that is pleasing.
For whom, and at what moment?
An ideal address for celebrating, seducing, or simply indulging in a great dining moment in Mayfair. One willingly returns at lunchtime thanks to a three-course formula offered from Tuesday to Saturday, at a fixed price of £55 per person. Backstage enthusiasts will aim for the Chef’s Counter; foodies in groups will reserve the private lounge; curious wanderers will detour by the deli across the street. In all cases, one leaves with the impression of having tasted a cuisine of place as much as of authorship.
