Alley Katsu, Hackney Central

With the original burger van maverick, Yianni Papoutsis, looking forward to a second bricks and mortar joint, Lucky Chip soon to set up shop in Soho, Big Apple Hot Dogs popping up everywhere, and The Ribman slinging his infamous Holy Fuck hot sauce as far as America and Australia, London’s street food scene certainly isn’t short on success stories to inspire would-be purveyors of pavement-based gastronomic goodness. Of course, this also means that new arrivals have a certain standard to live up to and, fortunately, the latest wave of mobile eats pushers has, like their predecessors, got the good shit on lockdown.

Recently, I grabbed a cheeky chunk of Al’s lunch from the Well Kneaded Wagon, who offer a kind of flatbread-style twist on wood-fired pizza. In this case, it was a simple yet subtly imaginative and ludicrously effective combination of beetroot, parsley pesto, watercress, and goat’s cheese. Fresh, light, and zingy beyond belief, the quality of the sourdough base and the effect of a proper oven really brought out every last flavour. Similarly, Chula Fused Foods offer a fresh take on that street food classic, the burrito, staying true to the formula but infusing each aspect with well-spiced sub-continental warmth. But while the Well Kneaded Wagon enjoys a fairly wide audience as a result of their eat.st @ King’s Cross appearances, and Vinny of Chula puts in a gruelling four day shift at various locations, it is perhaps the unassuming Alley Katsu that has impressed me the most of late.

Currently trading only on Saturday at the new Hackney Homemade FOOD market, I first encountered their wares a couple of weeks back and was immediately smitten. It really blew me away, so much so that my subsequent tray of Buen Provecho tacos seemed almost lacklustre by comparison. The premise is simple enough: Japanese katsu curries with chicken, prawn, or pumpkin, served in a wrap or with rice. Yet the attention to detail elevates this otherwise humble concept to the upper echelons of London street food.

Al went the more authentic route, opting for an ebi (prawn) katsu wrap. It was one skanking fat rolled up sandwich and she faced a Herculean task trying to enjoy it whilst fending off unwanted attention from both myself and my camera. Readers please note that I only get away with this shit because she’s resigned herself to it after two years. In reality, trying to photograph then eat half of a date’s meal must be a fast rising new entry on the list of Most Bell Endish Ways to put off a romantic interest. That said, I couldn’t really help myself. Proving that street food really is the new crack, I was craving more after just one bite and had to preserve the memory.

The subtly spiced curry sauce was notably deep in flavour and luxuriously silky smooth, while their homemade sweet chili sauce fully highlighted the benefits of composing foodstuffs from scratch. Bearing no resemblance to the sickly sweet, nuclear orangey-pink sludge that accompanies prawn crackers from shady take-aways and otherwise good restaurants alike, Alley Katsu’s version was a much darker, deep red colour and actually packed an OK punch, fully deserving to have the word ‘chili’ in its title. It was enough to pep up my bulldozed taste senses whilst not overwhelming Al’s far more sensible palate.

But despite the near flawless sauces, not to mention the gorgeously sticky rice, peppery rocket salad, and house pickles, it was the prawns that really shone through this melee of awesomeness. Al has a bit of a fetish for Eastern-style breaded prawns, so if they are on the menu, it is inevitable that they will be ordered. In my experience, they’re normally at least serviceable – even at pretty dire places – but rarely exceptional. Perhaps this goes to prove what a man of little experience I am when it comes to matters of oil-plunged crustaceans, or perhaps it’s the literal holiness of the St John at Hackney gardens, but these really were on another level. Al went so far as to dub them “the best prawns ever,” and it’s not an implausible claim at all. Plump and juicy, they enjoyed a light dusting of panko and were then deep-fried on the spot to perfection. With so many different layers and textures – creamy curry sauce, crunchy prawns, crisp rocket, and the lightly oily chili hit – there should be no doubt that this is a serious contender in this town's Best Sandwich debate.

As if all that weren’t enough, Alley Katsu also has a playful, experimental side. On this Saturday, they were trialling breakfast muffins filled with panko-crumbed Cumberland sausage and a fried free range egg. The egg was cooked to absolute perfection – it’s a wonder how people can do it better under a tent in a churchyard than in full-sized professional kitchens – and the Japanese-style breaded sausage was no mere novelty. It really worked, getting that familiar crispy exterior whilst keeping the meat naturally juicy and allowing the quality of the produce to foreground itself. Topped with a bit of rocket and smeared liberally with some of the Egg Boss’s homemade brown sauce, this was a beautiful mobile breakfast that shouldn’t even be mentioned in the same breath as its shoddy commercial equivalent.

While there’s no shortage of places I’ve still to try – Pizza Pilgrims having a particularly large bullseye next to their name – I can say with confidence that this was one of the most exciting and satisfying eating experiences I have had in recent times. I mean no disrespect to the amazing standard bearers we have – Thursday’s and Sunday’s will ALWAYS be Rib Day in my book – but Alley Katsu offer something really fresh and distinctive. Not least, it’s because part of me can’t help but think that we white folk – with the odd exception like last year’s Masterchef legends Tim Anderson and Jackie Kearney – have no business taking on ethnic food with this degree of competence. It just looks bad on the rest of us who, when we get such cravings, reach for the nearest Blue Dragon ready-sauce or, even better, the take-away menu stash that no good British home is complete without. So Alley Katsu may well be the best Japanese curries this side of Tokyo, as the market’s organisers claim – in truth, I hardly consider myself in a position to pronounce on this. What I can say is that it’s pretty damn amazing and a unique addition to London’s constantly evolving street food scene. Perhaps there’s hope for us honkeys after all.