Akara London: The Best Thing to Happen to Nigerian Food in London Since Western Union
Akara: Arch 208 Stoney Street, London SE1 9AD, United Kingdom (Reservations). Average meal for two plus drinks is around £160. Open Tuesday to Saturday from noon-10pm; Menu: akaralondon.co.uk.
Akara is Akoko's more casual sister restaurant in Borough Market. If you know anything about London's African food scene, you know Akoko. It's that fine dining spot in Fitzrovia where Nigerians go to feel fancy and spend their tech money. Akara opened last September and it's basically their attempt at doing the same thing but make it "casual". And by “casual,” I mean London casual, where you’re still paying in pounds, so nothing feels too laid-back.
The vibe is pure “successful uncle” energy—the kind who moved to London in the 80s and really made it. Think clean lines, stylish chairs, mood lighting—the works. It’s the kind of place you’d bring your non-African colleagues to introduce them to “modern African cuisine” without needing to explain much.
The design combines natural elements like pale wood, exposed brick, and white limestone, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere. An open kitchen lets diners watch the chefs in action, adding an engaging touch to the experience.
Since opening, Akara has earned praise for its inventive take on West African food. It’s featured in the 2024 Michelin Guide and also made Condé Nast Traveler’s Top New Restaurants in the UK for 2023. Basically, they’re now a big deal in London’s dining landscape.
Anyway, Folly (I know you guys miss her) and I ordered:
Marinated Tomato Akara
BBQ Prawn Akara
Lagos Chicken (BBQ Poussin) with Sweet Pepper Sauce
Grilled Pork with Yam Sauce & Fermented Chilli
Plantain, Gizzard, Pepper Relish (Gizdodo)
Efik Rice
If you’re reading any review of Akara, they’ll tell you there are three must-haves: the akara (of course), Lagos Chicken, and Efik rice. Everything else is just a bonus. Naturally, we ordered all three and threw in some extras—when in Borough Market, right?
Now, let’s talk about the akara. Normally, I hate akara with a passion, but this wasn’t your usual version. They’ve transformed it into something that actually makes sense. I’ve heard it described as more Brazilian-style, like acarajé, rather than the traditional Nigerian akara. It’s a bit more cake-like, less greasy than what you’d find in Lagos. When they say “bean cake,” this is probably what they mean. In Brazil, especially in Bahia, acarajé is split open and filled with various ingredients, unlike Nigeria, where akara is typically eaten plain.
At Akara, this reimagined version is the centerpiece of their menu, offered with fillings like BBQ tiger prawn, braised ox cheek, and seared scallop. Beyond the akara, they also serve a range of barbecued meats, fish, and vegetable dishes, all intended for sharing.
Akara serves their akara with this Senegalese sauce called Sosu Kaani which should be bottled and sold separately. I'd risk it all to get that sauce through customs back to Lagos.
The prawn akara is there to tempt you, but don't fall for it. That £3 extra they're charging? In this economy? When you convert to naira, you'll cry. Stick to the regular tomato akara and thank me later.
The Lagos Chicken though? That's the real star. They took a whole baby chicken - and listen, I always say this: the more vulnerable the animal, the more delicious it is - crusted it with herbs, and did what needed to be done. The chicken comes with this sweet pepper sauce situation that actually makes sense.
Folly got the pork with this yam sauce I've never seen before. Like, they took yam and puréed it in a way that would have our ancestors asking questions. But you know what really got me? The gizdodo. Breh, they didn't even try to fancy it up. Soggy plantain and everything. It was like eating at an owambe at a Lagos wedding - just in nicer lighting and with better plates.
The Efik rice? If The Place's native jollof went to private school abroad, got a masters, and came back speaking with a British accent.
Ok, jokes aside.
It’s a really elevated version of the native jollof you get in Lagos fast food spots. It had this sweet sauce at the bottom and they put a torched carrot on top like they had to make it fancy by force, but you know what? It worked.
I would return here again, unlike Chishuru. I mentioned this in my Chishuru review. I've been here twice now and I'm already calling it my favorite spot in London. I don't even need to try anywhere else. Is this what growing older feels like? Picking one restaurant and sticking to it? At least I picked a good one.