What happens when ceviche flirts with sushi, and mezcal finds a partner in yuzu? You get Los Mochis, a place where Mexico and Japan collide, not in Tulum, but in the heart of London.
Perched on the 9th floor of 100 Liverpool Street, just above the hum of the City’s financial district, the newest branch of Los Mochis delivers panoramic views of St Paul’s Cathedral and a menu that feels like a culinary passport stamped in both Oaxaca and Osaka. If you thought fusion was dead, think again.
A High-Rise Playground of Jute, Pisco, and Precision
Walking into Los Mochis City feels like being wrapped in a tequila-scented hug. Braided jute ropes, dark wood tones, and Aztec patterns create a visual feast before a single plate hits the table. It’s not just décor, it’s intention.
This is the second Los Mochis to open, following its Notting Hill sister, and while both locations share the same core identity, this rooftop edition elevates the experience, literally and figuratively. The skyline view isn’t just a backdrop, it’s part of the show. It’s where business suits loosen their ties and dates lean in a little closer.
No Notes Missed, No Sauces Recycled
Los Mochis bills itself as Mexican-Japanese, and surprisingly, it sticks the landing. You won’t find watered-down “fusion” here. Instead, there’s an unapologetic commitment to bold flavors and technique.
We started with guacamole, expected, yes, but far from forgettable. Thick-cut corn chips came seasoned with a tomato-coriander spice mix that could easily stand alone. They crunched with confidence.
Next came the crispy rice, an it-dish across trendy London spots right now. But here, it’s refined: a golden exterior hides a sticky, sushi-like center, topped with pulled duck that hints at Peking roots. It’s one of those rare starters that makes you pause mid-bite, appreciating each layer of texture and taste.
The seabass ceviche, dressed in shiso-truffle soy and mint cress, was restrained and elegant. Tart but not aggressive. It whispered its citrus notes rather than screamed them, a welcome break from the over-acidic renditions found elsewhere.
Tacos That Could Start an International Incident
But let’s talk tacos. Because if there’s one dish that earns Los Mochis a permanent spot on London’s culinary map, it’s the Yakiniku taco.
Thin slices of sesame-soy marinated grass-fed steak are piled onto a soft tortilla, balanced by shredded cabbage and just enough heat. Ginger, chili, sesame, it’s all there, wrapped up like a diplomatic envoy between Mexico and Japan. If tacos had passports, this one would be jet-lagged.
It’s the kind of dish you remember weeks later. And if you’re smart, you’ll order two.
Drinks That Tell a Story, Not Just Fill a Glass
Sure, there’s a wine list. But Los Mochis is a cocktail destination first and foremost. Mezcal lovers will feel right at home with “The Lost Explorer,” a minimalist mix of Espadín, lime, and Cointreau. Salted rim, no gimmicks. Just balance and bite.
My guest went for the “Seasonal Old Fashioned”, a bold sip layered with Macallan 12, Michter’s Bourbon, and Nixta corn liqueur. Toasted coconut rounded it out, making it feel almost like a dessert in disguise.
But if you’re skipping sweets, don’t miss the Sgroppino Tequilino. It’s part drink, part performance, crafted tableside with house-made lemon sorbet, Patrón, prosecco, and lime. More than just refreshing, it’s a drink that draws eyes from across the room.
Sushi That Speaks Spa Day, Not Soy Sauce
One surprise standout was a vegetarian maki of cucumber, avocado, and coriander. Normally a carnivore’s afterthought, this roll was lively, refreshing, and spiked with a jalapeño salsa verde that danced on the tongue. Like a spa day wrapped in seaweed.
And that’s part of the magic here. Even the smallest dishes carry weight. Nothing feels like filler. Every element is deliberate, down to the last grain of sushi rice.
The Finale: Purple, Creamy, and Totally Instagrammable
Dessert brought a splash of unexpected color with the ube panna cotta. Deep purple, softly set, subtly flavored. It leans more creamy than earthy, a gentle gateway for those new to the Filipino morning glory plant. Not too sweet, not too weird, just right.
It’s the kind of dessert that turns heads as it lands on the table.
A Taste of Mexico, a Slice of Japan, and a View of London
Los Mochis could’ve gone wrong in so many ways. But it doesn’t. From the ceviche to the cocktails, the tacos to the tiraditos, everything works in a strange, wonderful harmony. The variety is broad, but nothing feels phoned in. Each dish is its own little world.
In a city where fusion can often mean confusion, Los Mochis proves that with the right team and a little bit of guts, two culinary worlds can meet without compromise. It’s not just about food, it’s about intent, precision, and a good dash of fun.
And maybe that’s why this place matters. Because in a time when we’re all looking for connection, cultural, emotional, even edible, Los Mochis offers a meeting point.
Would it work in Tulum? Maybe. Would it draw locals and expats in the Riviera Maya, curious about London’s take on their flavors? Absolutely.
We’d love to hear your thoughts. Join the conversation on The Tulum Times’ social media.
What dish would you love to see brought from London to Tulum?