Review: Nela London Brings Ibiza Heat To Bayswater

Nela makes you rethink your outfit before you’ve even glanced at the menu. Not because it feels intimidating, but because the room has clearly dressed for a close up, and frankly, it would be rude not to keep up.

Set inside The Whiteley in Bayswater, Nela has arrived in London with all the confidence of a restaurant that knows exactly how it looks from every angle. This is not a throw on jeans and hope for flattering lighting kind of dinner. This is a check the booking, check the mirror, then change your earrings kind of dinner.

The first thing you feel is the scale. Nela is big, 175 covers big, but not in a hollow, corporate way. Designed by Framework Studio, the room is warm, dramatic and deeply social, with oak wood, soft beige tones, red travertine, granite and rippling banquette seating. Tall pillars, shaped like water droplets, rise through the space, while the open kitchen gives the whole room a pulse. The lighting is also doing God’s work, which should not be underestimated.

Nela began in Amsterdam before expanding to Ibiza and now London, marking the brand’s third international step. Founded by chefs Hari Shetty and Ori Geller with British entrepreneur Gilad Hayeem, the restaurant takes its name from the word “pure”, a nod to its philosophy of handpicked ingredients, modern technique and cooking with fire. In London, the kitchen is overseen by Head Chef Sachin Mastry.

That pedigree matters, but Nela is not trying to look tortured about it. The Ibiza outpost gives the brand a very on brand dose of Balearic heat, and the London restaurant carries a little of that sun drenched confidence with it. Nela has sheen. It has tan lines. It has a touch of just back from somewhere fabulous and refusing to unpack properly.

The concept is built around locally and globally sourced ingredients, sharing plates and a serious mastery of fire. Less caveman, more couture grill.

The menu has that dangerous “we’ll just get a few things” quality, which inevitably becomes an edible group project with no spending cap. Everything sounds like it might be the thing you regret not ordering: yellowtail with burnt aubergine and pickled turnip, beef ribeye tartare with langoustine, oysters with fermented chilli, half lobster with guajillo butter and mandarin, slow cooked Scottish short rib, artichoke on amber coals and grilled crispy corn tempura.

What I liked most is that Nela knows when to show off and when to hold back. Fire is the signature, but it is not used like a personality substitute. Fish arrives touched by flame rather than bullied by it. Meat has that rich, glossy pull that makes everyone at the table briefly stop pretending they are “just having a taste”. Even the vegetables feel considered, which sounds obvious until you remember how many restaurants still treat them like an apology on the side.

The drinks programme understands the assignment. Bar Manager Davide Mangiamele has created a list that moves between classics and playful signatures, backed by an extensive global wine list. The Unspoken Truth, Nela’s take on a spicy margarita, brings together Don Julio Blanco, Don Julio Reposado, Italicus, Beesou honey aperitif, lime and jalapeño honey ice. The Burning Confession, made with Tanqueray, raspberry and rose shrub, lemon, chamomile and honey foam, sounds like the cocktail equivalent of sending a voice note you should probably have deleted.

A restaurant like this needs a proper drinking moment, and Nela has more than one. Its Summer Terrace, launched on 21 May in partnership with Cincoro Tequila, gives the restaurant an extra seasonal flourish, made for golden hour drinks, glossy sunglasses and pretending that tequila before dinner is simply good editorial judgement. Inside, the central bar still has gravitational pull. One drink before dinner is civilised. Two is research.

Service keeps the evening moving without smothering it. Smooth, confident, nicely paced. The staff understand the rhythm of the room, which matters in a restaurant this performative.

And then there is pudding, where Nela becomes fully aware of its own fabulousness. The signature tiramisu with coffee caviar gives classic comfort a glossy little wink. Freshly baked madeleines bring soft, buttery warmth. But the showstopper is the Baked Alaska, finished with yuzu infused meringue and flambéed tableside, because apparently dinner was not already flirting hard enough.

The risk with restaurants this beautiful is that they can end up being all cheekbone and no substance. Nela avoids that by putting serious cooking underneath the gloss. It is glamorous, but not empty. Expensive looking, but not soulless. Scene led, but not silly.

Wear the outfit. Order like restraint is a rumour. Leave smelling faintly of fire and excellent decisions.

@nela.restaurant | https://nelarestaurant.com/london/

163 Queensway, London W2 4BD