Steak, chicken and halloumi salad.
Savage Salads serves up “proper salads topped with proteins that keep you full all day” from four different locations across London.
The menu says: (Deep breath) “Grilled Angus steak; rosemary, thyme and lemon marinated chicken breast; grilled halloumi; red and white cabbage, kale, orange zest, sultanas and poppy seeds; tomato, cucumber, black beans, corn and coriander; roasted beetroot, couscous and pumpkin seeds; roasted sweet potato, pearl barley, chilli and spinach.”
The hype says:
Evening Standard: “They will make you rethink the humble salad”; Time Out: “Savage Salads sell lunchboxes that are full of food to make your mouth water”; Yelp customer review: “Savage Salads is freaking bomb!”
Street food. Salad. The two have much in common. They have both risen hugely in popularity in the past few years. They are both types of food (street ‘food’ particularly). They both begin with the letter ‘s’. But, with the former often being an indulgence that is heavy in calories and carbs, can the two, despite all these clear similarities, possibly aspire to live together in perfect harmony, Ebony/Ivory-style, not even ‘side by side’ but in the same dish?
The perfect time to seek out this unlikely alliance is, of course, January; and the best place is Berwick Street in Soho – to visit Savage Salads, which is rated by Time Out as being the ninth best street food trader in London.
Their stand is easy to find, just look for the queue of people drawn in by their devastatingly simple menu of three proteins and four salads (the latter change weekly). In the interests of professionalism, I opt to pay slightly extra to have steak, chicken and halloumi, and, as I’m about to plump for the beetroot base, I’m informed I can have a mix of all four salads. Plus this all comes with pitta. And three toppings.
At this point, I planned to recommend, ‘If you’re going to opt for the steak, chicken or halloumi, then X is best’, but honestly, just adopt the ‘in for a penny, in for £7.50’ approach and have all three proteins (although, for what it’s worth, in the melee that ensued, I did just about notice that the halloumi seemed to disappear first). When you add in all of the other fresh and vibrant salad ingredients, you’re basically procuring a practically infinite number of taste and texture combinations that changes with every single bite. Luckily I didn’t notice until after that I could have added hummus too for another £1 or the experience might have actually blown my taste buds and my mind – but no the budget.
Should you believe the hype?
Definitely – and remember: a salad isn’t just for January…