East London appears to be taking a reactionary stance against the creamy interiors seeping through Instagram. Latest to buck the trend is the new seafood spot Noisy Oyster, part of the Norton Folgate renaissance off Shoreditch High Street. Its steely look draws from Memphis Group, machine-age modern and industrial lofts of the ’80s. And its mission is to bring back the (three) martini lunch, with a freshly shucked oyster chaser.
Photography courtesy Noisy Oyster
Photography courtesy Noisy Oyster
Photography courtesy Noisy Oyster
Photography courtesy Noisy Oyster
Photography courtesy Noisy Oyster
Photography courtesy Noisy Oyster
Photography courtesy Noisy Oyster
Photography courtesy Noisy Oyster
Photography courtesy Noisy Oyster
Photography courtesy Noisy Oyster
Opened by Madina Kazhimova and Anna Dolgushina, partners behind the popular Soho wine bar Firebird, Noisy Oyster repackages the seafood bistro for a coming-of-age Gen Z crowd, emphasising the urban and urbane: artfully plated bites against a monochrome setting. There are anchovies and octopus, stockpiles of caviar and a fragrant bisque prepared by chef Alfie Bahnan, and a crudo bar of select local favourites — all served in a raw, cavernous space designed by Harry Nuriev of Crosby Studios. Nuriev’s team has brought what it calls a ‘work in progress’ aesthetic leaning heavily on metallic finishes, beneath exposed ceilings.
‘We want guests to feel like they are entering a living installation, making every visit more than just a meal, but a full sensory experience,’ say Kazhimova and Dolgushina. ‘Every detail has been designed to provoke curiosity and inspire, challenging expectations and cementing itself as the bistro of the future.’
Framing the room are two pillars wrapped in wires that traverse the ceiling — an homage, says Nuriev, to the industrial aesthetic that also symbolises physical and spiritual connection. A long slice of bar is the heart of the space, a tribute to old-school fishmongers where icy martinis are served in variations like pink vermouth or mezcal, along with bubbly wines and bloody Marys. Wafer-thin metal tables accommodate 40-some people, and a tucked-away terrace unfolds from a long bank of full-height glass with more tables and a ping pong table (stainless steel, naturally). Bahnan’s menu includes a sweet-and-salty churro sundae topped with caviar, to keep patrons around longer.
The bathrooms carry through the work-in-progress motif. Their walls are coated in lacquered charcoal-grey tiles with random cracks and chips that reveal the cement beneath. The idea of this contrast, Nuriev says, is ‘having no specific beginning or end, with guests unable to tell whether the tiles are in the process of being adhered to the wall or taken down.’
Owing to its name — and all that steel — the place gets loud at night. But management prefers it that way, naturally.
