MOI

Right out of the gate, MOI sparkles. Our coats are whisked away at the door, and we walk into a sophisticated two-story space - part subterranean omakase counter, part late-night listening bar - linked by a spectacular concrete staircase. An open kitchen dominates the rear dining room, where chefs glide between large worktops and a blazing live fire, as if performing a choreographed routine. From grandiose tree trunk pillars, to perfectly plumped cushions, every tiny detail evokes a spa-like serenity.

A razor-sharp sashimi selection is an immediate signal that something special is happening here. Then it’s onto the fire-charged main menu. First, we attack a towering mountain of whipped cod’s roe with fried steamed buns, reminiscent of sweet fairground doughnuts. A chicken and blood sausage tsukune is total decadence, whilst pineapple rib tomato is so delicate it practically melts under a spoon. Kombu butter prawns require a more hands-on approach - twist off the head, drizzle the creamy juices over the body, and devour in two bites: simple, primal, satisfying stuff.

Then comes a technicolour showstopper: native lobster tail draped with slithers of sugar snap peas and pops of salmon caviar. The meat still carries a whisper of smoke from the Hornbream wood-fire. Then we reconfigure the table to make room for beautiful chunks of Cornish mackerel, floating in a pool of grated tomato and glossy olive oil. It’s a dainty, unassuming dish but not one to be overlooked - the scorched skin against the flakey fish is a textural delight, something of a signature style at MOI.

So far, MOI has been must-watch theatre, and now we’re at the final act. Shaved ice kakigori sounds promising, but proves to be puzzling - it’s comically large and lacking finesse. Go for the chocolate mousse instead, which is crowned with Jersey milk ice cream and shards of sea salt.

One mis-step aside, MOI is a statement debut: technically sharp, ambitious and swaggering with confidence. There are a few rough edges to polish, but the cooking is already utterly compelling. If this is MAD Restaurant’s first move into London, MOI marks them out as a new star on the rise.

MOI on Wardour Street offers a contemporary Japanese dining experience in the heart of Soho. Pronounced 'moy,' the restaurant is part of the MAD Restaurants group and delivers a refined but welcoming space centred around fire-led cooking, raw ingredients and understated elegance. Set across two levels, it combines an open kitchen, sushi counter and Tokyo-inspired listening bar to create a versatile setting for both casual drop-ins and more curated dining occasions.

The design is minimal but characterful, with a focus on texture and natural materials. Reclaimed wood, concrete and soft lighting work together to create an atmosphere that feels modern and considered without losing warmth. The main dining room is relaxed but polished, while the downstairs omakase bar offers a more intimate experience. There is also a private room for groups, designed with the same quiet sophistication that runs throughout the space.

The kitchen is led by Nick Tannett, formerly head chef at Evernight, who brings precision and depth to a menu that blends Japanese technique with seasonal British produce. Dishes are rooted in simplicity and detail, from Orkney scallops with juniper kombu to grilled turbot with yuzu kosho butter. Sushi and sashimi are prepared with care and balance, while a selection of skewers and grilled plates highlight the kitchen’s use of open flame and smoke.

Drinks include a short but well-composed wine and sake list, along with cocktails designed to complement the food’s clean, layered flavours. Downstairs, the listening bar offers a more playful setting for late-night drinks, inspired by the vinyl-focused bars of Shinjuku.

MOI strikes a balance between neighbourhood favourite and destination dining. It is a place where attention to detail meets a laid-back rhythm, and where fire, flavour and craft come together to create something quietly confident and entirely original.