dancing to its own tune | trivet, london

Finding a seat at Los Mochis in Notting Hill feels like stepping into a spirited celebration that spans two continents. Tucked away on Farmer Street, just a stone’s throw from the bustle of the tube station, this flagship from Thesleff Group aims to revolutionise the concept of fusion dining. 

Los Mochis first opened its doors in 2021, quickly establishing itself as a standout addition to the West London dining circuit. The success of this original site paved the way for a second location, which launched in 2024. This newer outpost occupies a sprawling rooftop space at 100 Liverpool Street in the City, offering a different perspective on the brand’s unique identity. 

Named after the coastal city in northern Sinaloa, Mexico, the restaurant embraces a unique philosophy called Baja-Nihon. This fusion marries the rustic charm of Mexican street food with the delicate and meticulous craft of Japanese sushi. The space itself is a riot of character. Skulls of various dimensions peer out from every corner, while walls are covered in sprawling paintings that nod to the Day of the Dead (Día de los Muertos), creating an environment that captures the essence of the tradition. It is the sort of place where the low lighting and hanging plants encourage you to linger over another round of drinks.

Speaking of, the cocktail list is a serious draw, particularly for those with an affinity for agave. Our tasting experience began with the Pepino Jalapeño, a house margarita that balances heat and cool with impressive balance. Built on Patrón Silver, the drink carries the bright, vegetal crunch of cucumber and the peppery snap of coriander. The jalapeño agave provides a slow, creeping warmth that lingers on the palate without overwhelming the citrus of the lime.

Opting for the tasting menu is the best way to navigate the breadth of what they do here and we explored a sequence that moved seamlessly between sushi excellence and vegetarian plates. The entire menu is gluten-free, though you would never suspect it given the textures on display. Guacamole set the ball rolling, arriving in two styles: the classic version was bright with lime and jalapeño, while the superfood variant was topped with a crunch of pumpkin, sunflower and pomegranate seeds. These were followed by ajo-chipotle edamame, steamed and tossed in a garlic and chilli mix that set a bold tone for the rest of the meal.

Crispy rice is a signature here and both versions showed the kitchen’s ability to layer flavours. The Pato on Crispy Rice featured teriyaki duck with avocado crema and a habanero hoisin sauce that provided a sweet, smoky kick. On the vegan side, the Truffle Guacamole on Crispy Rice was topped with fresh truffles, offering an earthy richness that felt indulgent. The texture of the rice was exactly right, providing a firm snap that stood up to the generous toppings.

The tiradito section still has us dreaming of that evening. The Beetroot Tiradito was an absolute favourite, featuring a colourful arrangement of golden, chioggia and heirloom beetroots. It was dressed in an amarillo yuzu agave sauce that brought a stunning acidity to the earthy vegetables, finished with radish and mint cress. This sat alongside a Salmon Tiradito, which used a wasabi salsa and yuzu tamari to create a clean, sharp finish. A seabass ceviche with shiso-truffle soy further demonstrated the Japanese influence, showing how delicate fish can be enhanced by deep, savoury notes.

As the meal progressed, the maki rolls arrived. The Black Cod Volcano was a standout, featuring miso-marinated fish that melted away, while the Spicy Hiramasa relied on yellowtail and truffle chilli goma for a more aggressive heat. The vegan spicy vegetable tempura maki was equally impressive, using baby corn and asparagus to provide a satisfying bite, lifted by a jalapeño-pineapple salsa.

Tacos are, of course, a central pillar here, though they arrive with a Japanese twist. The Trailer Park Chicken taco was a playful addition, featuring fried chicken with a jalapeño BBQ sauce and habanero gochujang. For a more traditional feel, the Yakiniku taco used grass-fed steak with a chilli-ginger honey that felt incredibly tender. The vegan tacos were just as robust. The Bang Bang Cauliflower offered a smoky paprika heat, while the Miso Nopales used cactus tempura with ume saikyo miso to create a texture that was entirely unique.

Dessert brought the two cultures together in a final, clever way. The Ube Panna Cotta was a vibrant purple creation using yam and Madagascan vanilla, topped with an oat crumble. However, the Miso Chocolate Brownie was the clear winner. This vegan dessert was rich and dense, with the saltiness of the miso cutting through the chocolate perfectly. Served with a refreshing coconut sorbet, it provided a soulful conclusion to a meal that felt like a genuine discovery.

Beyond the delicious food, Los Mochis exudes a strong sense of purpose. Their ‘Give Back Programme’ ensures that for every meal purchased, one is provided to someone in need. This initiative has already delivered over a million meals through the Felix Project. 

The combination of the vibrant décor, the kick of the jalapeño margaritas and the intelligent fusion of flavours makes it a standout destination in the heart of Notting Hill.

Discover the menus here.

photography. courtesy of Los Mochis
words. Gennaro Costanzo

From techno parties in Paris to costume design, and finally to Berlin’s Brunnenstraße, Margaux Arabian has lived many lives. At VOLK, which she runs with her husband Oliver Chesler, she serves cuisine deeply inspired by — and learned from — her mother, Ghislaine Arabian, a former two-Michelin-starred chef. What emerges is a story about mothers and daughters, creative freedom, and the art of cooking yourself a home in a foreign city.

Berlin-Mitte is a place of fleeting trends. Restaurants arrive, concepts fade. But step into VOLK on Brunnenstraße and the city’s noise recedes. This is not a hyper-stylized “concept store” of culinary arts, but a place that feels like a well-kept secret — pieced together from memories, music, and the scent of genuine French butter. Nothing here is decorative by accident; everything has a story.

VOLK is the shared project of Margaux Arabian, a Parisian with Armenian roots, and Oliver Chesler, a musician from New York. That these two worlds — the New York underground and French haute cuisine — collide in Berlin is a story in itself. Yet the heart of VOLK beats to a rhythm that began much earlier: in a mother’s kitchen and a costume designer’s wardrobe.

Before Margaux became a host and a chef, she told stories through fabric. “I wasn’t initially destined for the kitchen,” she says almost casually, as if still slightly surprised by where life led her. She spent four years at a horse school, organized techno parties in Paris — where she met Oliver — and later worked with renowned costume designer Dominique Borg. These detours were not an escape from her upbringing so much as a way of finding her own language. “I wanted to find my own voice,” she explains. “But I always stayed connected to my parents’ restaurants. I tasted, observed, and learned whenever I could.”

Those years shaped her eye. Anyone entering VOLK immediately senses the work of someone who knows how to create atmosphere and emotion. The interior does not feel designed, but collected — a collage of art, objects, and carefully selected tableware. Even the porcelain plates by Bernardaud carry a personal imprint: while not created exclusively for VOLK, they are the result of a close collaboration with the factory, which sets aside specific styles for Margaux, some of them unique pieces.

At the back of the bistrot, Margaux occasionally hosts a small vintage fashion pop-up. Less a traditional shop than a physical extension of her personal Vinted universe, it offers carefully curated pieces that appear for limited periods. You might come for oysters and leave with a silk blouse or a vintage accessory — a gesture that feels quintessentially Berlin.

Beyond daily service, VOLK regularly transforms into a social hub. Sunday markets organized by Margaux invite friends, clients, and designers to sell clothing and creative works. Music, burlesque performances, and playful details like €1 oysters blur the line between restaurant, salon, and neighbourhood living room.

To understand the culinary soul of VOLK, however, one has to go back further — to the kitchens of Lille and Paris. Margaux quite literally grew up in her parents’ restaurants. “Our first one in Lille was an entire building,” she recalls, “and I lived inside it, looked after by the pastry chefs.” Later, when her parents took over the legendary Pavillon Ledoyen in Paris, her childhood unfolded among palace gardens and professional kitchens. While other children played on playgrounds, she ate foie gras sandwiches or chocolate mi-cuit prepared by the best pastry chefs in France.

Her mother, Ghislaine Arabian, spent decades cooking at the highest level, earning two Michelin stars along the way. For her, Margaux’s trajectory feels less like a surprise than a continuation. “She was always there, even when she was elsewhere,” Ghislaine says with a laugh. “You cannot escape such a childhood.”

This lineage is not mere name-dropping; it is the backbone of VOLK’s quality. The suppliers from whom the bistrot sources its goods — Gillardeau oysters, wines from exceptional vintners — are long-standing family relationships. They know exactly who they are delivering to. Beyond its own kitchen, VOLK supplies its freshest oysters to some of Berlin’s most iconic institutions, including Grill Royal, Borchardt, and Paris Bar.

Berlin, though, is not Paris — and that distance matters. For Margaux, moving here was not about replicating her parents’ restaurants. With Oliver from New York and herself from Paris, Berlin felt like neutral ground. “We couldn’t imagine building our family life exclusively in either city,” she says. “Berlin felt right immediately. What I missed wasn’t Paris itself — it was French food.”

That longing slowly turned into action. Phone calls home became requests for parcels filled with flavors she couldn’t find locally. Ghislaine remembers the moment clearly. “And then the phone rang,” she says. VOLK was born not from a business plan, but from homesickness — and from the desire to make French food feel less ceremonial, more lived-in.

“In Berlin, tradition feels lighter,” Ghislaine observes. “Here, Margaux makes it accessible. This is not concept dining — it’s high-end bistrot, nothing else.” Margaux agrees. She gravitates toward simple, comforting dishes — food that gathers people rather than impresses them. “Quality defines the price, not ambition,” she says. “Freshness defines the menu, not trends.” It is a philosophy she learned early, watching her mother cook.

Today, as Margaux moves through VOLK — past tables set with Bernardaud porcelain, toward her small vintage universe in the back — one can see both the child who ate foie gras sandwiches in a palace and the woman who found her own definition of Volk in Berlin.

VOLK on Brunnenstraße is more than the sum of its parts. It is the result of a biography that refused to choose between art and cuisine — and instead embraced both. It proves that reinvention does not require forgetting where you come from. Whether you arrive for a seafood platter, a portion of Boeuf Bourguignon, or leave with a pair of vintage earrings, at VOLK you are always a guest among friends.

Book your meal at volkmitte.de.

words. Silke Bolms 

If you wander a few steps away from Monastiraki square, and look for a discreet, minimal building front overlooking the Acropolis, you’ll arrive at Makris Athens: the fine dining destination at the very heart of the city. Here, under the watchful eye of chef Petros Dimas, Greek gastronomy is an energetic, dreamy and emotional journey, and invites diners on an exploration of memories. Inside the historic walls and above the foundations of an archeological site, a quiet conversation between past and present is at play. Through the glass floor in the basement, you’ll even see – and perhaps feel – the ancient ruins.

Here, each plate is anchored geographically and invites diners into the inner life of chef Petros Dimas. Think of it more as a personal archive built from childhood summers, island kitchens, Mediterranean tables and the slow, ritualistic pleasure of good ingredients. Makris has been a project of a lifetime and Athens is just the latest addition to a portfolio. The Michelin-starred restaurants took shape across Greece: first in Corfu, then Milos and Crete. In Athens, Makris feels like it has arrived at a culmination; it’s a place where chapters align.

If there’s one standout aspect of the approach to gastronomy at Makris Athens, it’s the gentle, poignant feeling that accompanies you throughout your time there. There are three set menus, including a vegan one, which all explore various facets of Greek cuisine. The Utopia menu is the embodiment of the world of Makris. The meal opens on an impactful, vivid burst of flavours, with the chef’s welcome that immediately sets the tone for the restaurant’s philosophy: ingredients masterfully combined, compositions that enchant the palette. A Mushroom Cappuccino delivers earthy tones and feels perfectly paired with Truffle and Brioche Feuilletée.

Ingredients, the team tells us, are primordial here. There’s even a farm, in Corinth, which prepares the seasonal vegetables, herbs and edible flowers used in the restaurant. These ingredients, as well as a tight network of local producers, are at the heart of the story of Makris. The Bouquet from the Farm, closely followed by the highly recommended Kharmani Persian Beluga Caviar, speaks volumes about Dimas’ reverence for quality produce. Vegetables are treated not as sides but as leading stages of the journey and the vegan menu testifies to this. The technique and excellence are all there, as you’d expect of a Michelin-starred restaurant, but the confidence in allowing flavour to stand on its own brings the whole experience to life in surprising and touching ways.

Dimas’ relationship with the Mediterranean embodies an instinctive rather than conceptual approach. The flavours explored with the fish in the menu are exceptional, such as the sweetness of Red Hellenic Shrimp balanced by carrot and the saline depth of caviar. The langoustine, served at two temperatures, becomes a study in contrast: warm and yielding, then cool and precise: an outstanding dish – perhaps our highlight – which is as beautiful visually as it is delicious.

At this stage, we must mention the sourdough bread, which is served alongside a menu of olive oils from various regions in Greece, from Crete and Corfu to Messinia. A visit to Makris is worth it just for this experience; this is, as the establishment describes it, a dip into nature’s liquid gold. These are tastes your buds will remember for a long time.

Further on in the menu, local hake is paired with zucchini, alongside a rockfish sauce and smoked mussels. It’s a foray into the more traditional flavours associated with Greek cuisine yet replaces nostalgia with shared memories. There is undeniable charm and warmth to Dimas’ cuisine. When it comes to the meat course, it’s clear that Makris’ commitment to local sourcing is a question of moral principles, not just aesthetics. The organic Hellenic Pork Iberico is served with white asparagus, chanterelles and seasonal vegetables, for an intensely gourmet end to the savoury part of the menu. This dish anchors the meal in the rhythms of the land, bridging the gap between sea and countryside.

Dessert at Makris is everything you’d hope to bring this poetic journey to a close: in short, nothing short of spectacular. The Hazelnut Concert – layered with chocolate, caramel and lavender ice cream – is alive with aroma. It plays with recollections of childhood sweets without falling into overly saccharine tones and works memories like a playful ingredient. The texture and temperature are perfect.

The restaurant’s interior is a soft space which exudes charm and mirrors the food. Nothing feels out of place to the point of intruding on the experience; the design is minimal while still providing a comforting, almost homely feel. A special mention goes to the wine pairings – particularly the Hellenic selection, with a broad but modern carte of conventional and natural wines – which feels like an extension of the storytelling.

In close contact with the layers of the Greek capital, Makris Athens offers a reinvention. It’s a reinvention, however, that embodies every step of history and has brought those steps along to where the space is today. Much like the scenery of ancient Athens you can see from the restaurant, Makris offers a return to roots, a game of memories made vivid by compositions that vibrate with the power of ingredients. Petros Dimas does not ask diners to be impressed; he accompanies, guides, suggests and inspires just like a storyteller. In doing so, he offers something increasingly rare: a meal that lingers not just on the palate, but somewhere deeper. In a city with layers of history, Makris adds another; one told quietly, beautifully and entirely on its own terms.

Reversations for Makris Athens can be made here.

words. Patrick Clark