Dinner ended in a fridge. Underground, off London’s Portobello Road, surrounded by bubbling jars; koji blooming like suede; wonky vegetables caught mid-pickling. Ten minutes earlier I’d finished a chocolate-tahini crémeux in the restaurant upstairs, alongside (full disclosure) my second or third martini. Now the man behind the “how-is-this-vegan?” magic, Holy Carrot chef Daniel Watkins, was showing me the secret – a laboratory of pickles and ferments.
My dining experience came through Mastercard’s priceless.com, in collaboration with the restaurant booking platform TheFork. Its culinary offering is split into two flavours: Priceless Experiences get you closer to the craft (here, the post-dessert walk through Holy Carrot’s fermentation “library” with the chef-owner), while Hotspots lands you tables that are usually snapped up in the time it takes to type your card number into the booking system.
I used both options in the same week: the backstage access at Holy Carrot; the priority booking for Birmingham’s experimental restaurant Albatross Death Cult. Two very different doors, in very different cities, and one simple idea – that the right kind of access can change how you eat in an instant.
The first, London’s Holy Carrot, has recently gained renown for its inventive plant-based cuisine – albeit one that’s simply plant-led rather than preachy. Smoke, technique and ferments do the heavy lifting where other menus might lean on, well, butter. Or a lovely cut of steak.
At Holy Carrot in London, chef Daniel Watkins’ secret weapon is his library of pickles and ferments, used in dishes such as koji bread with mushroom ragu
Whereas diners typically order from the à la carte menu at Holy Carrot, through Mastercard they can experience an exclusive tasting menu (£75) with a welcome drink and the private tour included. As for what this menu contains, it’s a tour de force (and I say this as a card-carrying carnivore). The koji bread arrives warm with an elastic crumb and a crust that tastes like toasted cereal. And if that’s not enough, it sits atop a mushroom ragu that’s properly savoury – arguably meaty.
Asparagus is cooked just to snap, and laid against smoked tofu with a clean, green herb mayonnaise. Smoked carrots – some might call them Holy – crown a pool of harissa butter over a bean puree, the kind of plate you finish without speaking. A Caesar-ish number that ditches anchovies and uses smoked tempeh pangrattato for crunch (you don’t miss a thing). Pink fir potatoes are glass-crisp and come with a garlic-and-pickle mayo so incredible that I considered stealing it from the fermentation fridge.
The private tour introduced me to a different side of culinary craftsmanship. That fridge and the magic mayo are only part of it. Underneath the bustling restaurant space, the prep kitchen’s many coves are lined with hundreds more experiments gone right: a softly boozy koji-agave, newborn kombuchas still lively enough to bust their caps, and fermented garlic tended to so patiently it behaves like its own starter. With Watkins waxing lyrical about his many pickle babies, linking jar to dish, that already flawless meal hits even harder.
Clockwise from top left: Caesar salad with smoked tempeh pangrattato; the restaurant in Notting Hill; chocolate-tahini crémeux; the restaurant’s interior
Of course, like all good gluttons, my gastronomic adventures didn’t stop there.
Days later, I’m in Birmingham for Albatross Death Cult, Alex Claridge’s famed (and tiny) city-centre counter, all but impossible to book on a whim – except with Hotspots. With a few swift clicks around priceless.com, you can get a seat days – or hours – in advance; no waitlist, no fuss, no settling last-minute for a chain on New Street.
And yes, it made a Cult follower out of me.
The format is tight: a run of seafood-leaning courses with a Japanese fingerprint prepared in front of you, delivered from kitchen to metal countertop with the swift turn of a chef’s heel. A spherified oyster and caviar opener lands with clean salt and a neat texture trick – the sort of “small, perfect” that sets a tone. And that’s just one of many dishes masquerading as snacks to kick things off.
While the £115 tasting menu is regularly tweaked, you might be lucky enough to experience tuna heart sliced finely and treated like bacon, artfully nudged by chilli and yuzu. Or a crab-and-nori bite that folds gels and shiso into a mouthful that lifts right at the end. Or a sustainably sourced Cornish lobster mousseline presented as prawn toast.
Chef Alex Claridge serves a menu based on seafood and coastal ingredients at his tiny – but in-demand – Albatross Death Cult in Birmingham
The mussels are a fixture; spiced rather than hot, the broth the sort you chase with a spoon, elevated by the pour of a tannic, volcanic red (the sommelier’s prodigious choice, the structure meeting the spice with an unexpected thrill).
I opted for the restaurant’s Esoteric flight to accompany the tasting menu – five pours of wine and sake, good value at £85, and actually exploratory. Case in point: a daiginjo (sake) served alongside a butter-rich fish dish to create satin mouthfeel. This daiginjo, a clean, herbaceous new discovery that the sommelier framed as “the sauvignon blanc of sake”, locked well to the fish and a jalapeno cream.
To finish, there’s even a cotton-candy leaning sake to sip alongside a mushroom, seaweed and sushi rice-championing dessert – it was powerfully playful and, even as a dessert-wine sceptic, something I left hoping more of my London favourites might take heed of.
What Hotspots changed here wasn’t the food, of course, but the booking process. And, as a result, it made the experience even more enjoyable. Instead of organising something weeks in advance, I simply went.
Mussels in a spiced broth; mushroom, seaweed and sushi rice dream desert
The cleverness of Mastercard’s culinary split on priceless.com is that each part respects the way people actually eat. Priceless Experiences tilt the angle so the craft comes into focus – just enough proximity to turn a clever menu into a coherent story, while Hotspots doesn’t touch the kitchen, but dismantles the gauntlet that keeps you out of it. And when access behaves like that, it disappears into the background where it belongs.
There’s also breadth here that’s easy to overlook. These perks extend far beyond one sophisticated London eatery and a cult Birmingham hotspot. Plenty of Michelin-recognised dining rooms are in Mastercard’s mix, as well as the sort of places you can’t wait to recommend. If you’re wired for detail, the range of Priceless Experiences is my recommended go-to – focused, genuinely illuminating and a privilege to do. On the other hand, if you’re wired for spontaneity, Hotspots clears the path to the table.
As someone who’s spent the last decade-plus being paid to eat in such establishments (I know, tough gig), I can honestly say these experiences open doors even your favourite food critic may not be able to. And that, dear reader, is the gastronomic definition of priceless.
Book via priceless.com today
Priceless Experiences:
Angler, London; Holy Carrot, London; Le Pont de la Tour, London; The Lanesborough Grill, London; Alex Dilling at Hotel Cafe Royal, London; Bob Bob Ricard City, London; Cord, London; Corrigan’s Mayfair, London; Kanishka, London; Muse, London; Ekstedt at The Yard, London; Acleaf, Plymouth; Rebel, Newcastle; Etch, Brighton.
Hotspots:
Alain Ducasse at the Dorchester, London; Clos Maggiore, London; The Lecture Room and Library at Sketch, London; Albatross Death Cult, Birmingham; Source at Gilpin Hotel, Bowness-on-Windermere; Mana, Manchester; Joro, Sheffield; The Torridon 1887 Restaurant, Achnasheen, Wester Ross.
