Ninth Ward 99 101 Farringdon Rd London Ec1r 3bn
So, let’s talk about Ninth Ward. You know, the place at 99-101 Farringdon Rd, London EC1R 3BN. If you haven’t been, you’re missing out on a little slice of New Orleans in the...
So, let’s talk about Ninth Ward. You know, the place at 99-101 Farringdon Rd, London EC1R 3BN. If you haven’t been, you’re missing out on a little slice of New Orleans in the middle of Clerkenwell.
I walked by it once, totally by accident. The front is unassuming, all brick and glass. But then I smelled the beignets.
Oh, those beignets. They’re like little clouds of fried dough covered in a snowdrift of powdered sugar. You will wear half of it on your shirt. It’s a rite of passage, honestly.
Let’s rewind a bit. The name “Ninth Ward” is a direct nod to New Orleans’ most resilient neighborhood. You know, the one that got flooded during Katrina? Yeah, that one. But here? It’s all about celebration and Cajun soul.
Step inside, and the vibe hits you like a brass band. It’s dark, moody, with exposed brick and low lighting. The kind of place where you instantly feel cooler just by sitting down.
Now, the menu. It’s not huge, but it’s packed with flavor. Think fried chicken so good it should be illegal. Mac and cheese that’s practically a religious experience.
And the gumbo. Oh, the gumbo. It’s thick, spicy, and full of okra. You’ll want to hug the chef. Don’t actually do that—it’s weird.
But let’s talk about the po’ boys. They’re messy, glorious sandwiches on crusty baguettes. The shrimp po’ boy? Absolute perfection. You’ll need about five napkins. Minimum.
What about the drinks? They have a cocktail list that’s basically a love letter to the South. The Hurricane is dangerously drinkable. Just one, and you’ll be speaking with a Louisiana drawl.
And the juleps? Minty, cold, and proper boozy. It’s like being at the Kentucky Derby, but without the terrible hats. Well, unless you bring your own. I won’t judge.
Here’s a hot tip: order the Ninth Ward Bucket. It’s a shared platter of fried chicken, fries, slaw, and pickles. It’s a bucket. You feel like a king. Or a queen. Or a very hungry jester.
Ninth Ward, 99-101 Farringdon Road, Clerkenwell
Is it authentic Cajun? Look, I’ve never been to New Orleans. But the people who run this place have. And they’ve bottled that bayou magic and poured it into every dish.
The service is friendly, too. Like, genuinely friendly, not that fake “have a nice day” corporate nonsense. They’ll joke with you, refill your water, and probably steal a fry. It’s part of the charm.
Now, the location. Farringdon Road is a funny street. It’s busy, a bit gritty, but full of hidden gems. Ninth Ward is one of them. Tucked between a pub and a bike shop, it’s easy to miss. Don’t miss it.
Go for lunch. Go for dinner. Go for a late-night snack after a gig. It’s open late, which is dangerous for your diet but great for your soul.
What’s the vibe like on a Tuesday afternoon? Quiet, but not dead. You’ll see freelancers typing away, couples on dates, and lone diners devouring ribs. No judgment. You’re all in this together.
And the music. Always some good blues or zydeco playing. Not loud enough to shout over, but loud enough to tap your foot. You might even catch yourself swaying.
Is it expensive? A bit, but not stupidly so. A po’ boy and a drink will set you back about £25. Worth every penny when you taste that remoulade sauce.
Let me tell you about the banoffee pie. Yes, it’s dessert. Yes, it’s life-changing. It’s salty, sweet, and creamy. I’m drooling just typing this. You’ll want to order two.
Ninth Ward, 99-101 Farringdon Road, Clerkenwell
If you’re vegetarian, don’t panic. There’s a blackened cauliflower that will convert even the most hardened carnivore. It’s smoky, charred, and served with ranch. Trust me.
The vibe at night is completely different. It gets packed, loud, and electric. You’ll be shoulder-to-shoulder with strangers, all shouting about how good the chicken is. It’s beautiful chaos.
Oh, and the hush puppies. They’re not just cute names. They’re deep-fried cornmeal balls with jalapeño. Dip them in honey butter. Thank me later.
So, do you need a reservation? On weekends, absolutely. Walk in on a Monday? You’ll probably get a seat. But don’t gamble—book ahead. I learned that lesson after a rainy Thursday disappointment.
One more thing: wear stretchy pants. Seriously. The portions are generous, and you’ll want to eat everything. Your future self will thank you when you’re not unbuttoning your jeans in the loo.
I’ve been there three times now. Each visit is the same: I leave full, happy, and slightly powdered sugar-coated. It’s a good problem to have.
If you’re near Farringdon, skip the chains. Walk past the Pret, ignore the Starbucks. Head to 99-101 Farringdon Road. Your taste buds will high-five you.
Honestly, Ninth Ward is the kind of place that makes you love London a little more. It’s loud, messy, delicious, and unapologetically itself. Kind of like a good friend.
So, grab a friend. Grab a bucket of chicken. And for the love of all things holy, don’t share the beignets. You earned those.
