Route

Route closed in April of 2023

Walking along the Quayside in 2005, I spotted Michael Owen, having recently signed for Newcastle United, emerging from a posh hotel. He was cradling a little girl in his arms, all but certainly his youngest daughter, Gemma, as they headed out into an overcast Toon. The riverfront felt rather dreary back then, lined with bad pubs, greasy cafes and greasier estate agents. It certainly wasn’t a place to go for a decent meal.

Almost two decades later and much of the nation has watched Gemma, on a reality TV gameshow, deliberate for several weeks over which of her fellow contestants she’d most like to shag. The Quayside has transformed into a vibrant, exciting place to eat out. The profound point being made is this: things change.

Nothing represents change in the NE1 part of Newcastle much more than Route. The owners refer to it as a ‘bistro moderne’ and talk about serving ‘libations’, affectations that may have incited vandalism, scorn or, at the very least, derisive heckling from the historic clientele of the area. Now, this casual, refined British restaurant is symbolic of the Quayside’s accepted move upmarket.

Inside reflects the current take on ‘industrial chic’, so we walk to our table on charcoal-grey flagstones with whitewashed breezeblock wall to our left and exposed alloy ducting overhead. Want filament light bulbs dangling from ceiling-mounted hooks? Of course you do, and have them you shall. Wooden tables and chairs, along with the judicious use of velour banquette down the wall to our right, add warmth to the room. Soft, spongy humans are undoubtedly the final step in calming the acoustics. This is fine given the place is almost completely full when we arrive.

The menu changes bi-weekly and everything is intended for sharing. There are a few snacks, six to seven lighter dishes, followed by four big hitters that generally feature a more expensive centrepiece such as duck breast, halibut or steak.

Lindisfarne oysters exemplify the inventiveness to come throughout dinner. One is pickled and finished with fresh horseradish, the other is accompanied by a Bloody Mary granita; both taste like the beginning of the most pretentious but invigorating culinary hangover cure.

Tablets of grilled sardine come with subtly applied nduja, the warmth and spice cut with lemon juice. Slices of moist black treacle bread deliver hints of sweet and savoury, and are used to plough through the pools of rose-tinted juices remaining once the sardines have gone.

A natural inclination towards red wine must be ignored when there is so much appealing seafood on the menu, as there was on this occasion. The wine list is relatively short, with seven whites and seven reds, five of which are available by the glass. There is talk of natural wines; there is one orange wine listed; there is a red that is marked SANS SOUFRE. Lord knows I need soufre in my wine, so all the above are sidestepped for a trustworthy Picpoul. It’s clean, fresh and easy-drinking in that mildly unremarkable way of Picpoul.

More goodness arrives in the form of mackerel ceviche nestled under a roof of sliced and pickled golden beetroot. It’s another dish that sparkles with brightness and lightness, two qualities that are characteristic of the food at Route. There is a fine touch with acidity, a restraint with seasoning and an astute balance in the execution of ideas. The approach avoids the taste fatigue that can occur when multiple components in a series of dishes seem reliant on copious amounts of dairy and salt for their impact.

We return to sophisticated hangover cures with a bowl of exotically titled ‘haddock bites’, which are essentially goujons with a homemade tartare sauce. The innards, of course, consist of flaky haddock fillet rather than a homogenous paste of dredge from the ocean floor. It’s difficult not to absent-mindedly pop them into gob one after another having mopped across the sauce bowl each time, but the need to share, speak and breathe occasionally is helpful.

The final plate of fish is spots of smoked cod’s roe piped onto fragments of lavosh cracker and garnished with dill. It’s gorgeous. There’s the contrast of textures between the smooth roe and the crispiness of the cracker, the earthiness and slight spice of the lavosh with the smoky savouriness of the fish, and the finishing touch of dill’s citrusy, aniseed complexity. This looks like such a simple dish but the combination yields an experience far greater than its appearance.

Duck livers come last and usher in a new set of flavours, meaning we can finally justify red wine in the form of Sicilian nero d’avola. Liver is the protagonist in many childhood horror stories but these are a world away from the grey, leathery pucks I was subjected to as a kid. Tender, earthy, umami-laden and blushing pink inside, they’re complemented by the herbaceous bitterness of watercress and radicchio. A dose of marmalade beneath adds another layer to the savoury and sweet combination. It’s gratifying to end on such a high.

Perhaps Kenny Atkinson’s Solstice, with its 18-course set tasting menu just a few doors down, is the grandest totem of the Quayside’s gastronomic flourishing. I suspect, however, that there has always been a market for explicitly lavish restaurants like it. The arrival of a place like Route is more exciting; it has the feel of an informal, neighbourhood venue but is serving inventive, unusual food at much lower prices. Our dinner was £50 each including service, which feels like great value for the pleasure it’s given. Hopefully, Route will continue to get the recognition and custom it deserves.