Sova is the word for owl in a number of Slavic languages, which is the whole brief: this is a bar for people who stay up. It opened on 8 April 2026 at 9 Blenheim Crescent, close to the top end of Portobello Road, in the room that had been Zima's Notting Hill branch, a caviar-and-dumplings offshoot of the Soho original. The team kept the address and changed the question. Fewer dumplings. More wine and vinyl.
The list
Cristian Vega, who has worked at Wilton's, Pollini at Ladbroke Hall and Le Boudin Blanc, built a wine list that points east, at countries most London lists squeeze into a single line at the bottom. Georgia leads, with Armenian and Ukrainian bottles alongside. A traditional-method Ukrainian sparkling wine does the work of Champagne and holds its own against English fizz. There is a Serbian pinot grigio, and a Bulgarian wine blending Viognier and Chardonnay with the local Tamaianka grape. A Ukrainian Chardonnay from the biodynamic winemaker Ihor Petrenko, aged in new oak, is rich and interesting.
“Sova means owl in several Slavic languages, and this is a bar for people who stay up.”
Serbian, Slovenian and Armenian bottles get real space here, which few other London rooms manage, and the style leans towards low-intervention and skin-contact. Cocktails are a short list, made carefully. The Sidecar is perfectly balanced. The Amber Martini is an orange-wine take on the classic and is best served very cold.
The plates
Denis Calmis, born in Moldova, cooks a short sharing menu designed to flatter the wine rather than the other way round. Order the beef tartare first: it comes on Borodinsky, the dark rye with coriander seed, with horseradish mayonnaise, and a fellow diner rated it perhaps the finest they had eaten in London. Raw tuna with adjika, cucumber, fennel and capers is a crisp, tangy one. Beetroot croquettes sit on a walnut and saffron emulsion. The baby chicken roasted in whisky and honey, with a green salsa, was the highlight, juicy under crackling skin, and the dark chocolate mousse with sea buckthorn closes with a sharp edge.
Vinyl and the room
Rough Trade's team helped source the records and curate part of the collection. They sit on shelving alternating with wine bottles, which makes choosing either feel like browsing. A pair of decks is set up at the front bar, with guest DJs through the week. AIYA Bureau designed the room in timber, linen and clay-effect plaster in low light, a long bar at the front giving way to a roomier back area. A small terrace is there for warm evenings.
Take the counter, where staff will talk you through the list. On a Friday it is fully booked and buzzing, and the crowd is happy to be there.
The hedge
Not everything lands. The seaweed butter is shy of salt and the mains do not match the small plates and desserts. Service loosens as the night goes on and main courses arrive slowly, and the duck is well cooked but timid. Both are fair warnings for anyone who thinks the evening is about dinner, rather than the glass.
It is a bar for people who would like to drink something they have never heard of, eat a plate of tartare and let someone else choose the music. Owls are not known for early nights, and neither, by the sound of it, is this room.
- The vibe
- Low-lit wine bar in wood and clay tones, vinyl on the shelves, DJs at the front.
- The food
- Beef tartare on Borodinsky, raw tuna with adjika, whisky-honey baby chicken.
- The drink
- Georgian, Armenian and Ukrainian bottles; start with the Ukrainian sparkling.
- A tip
- Book online and sit at the counter; weekends are for the DJs.
