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This is the first bricks-and-mortar restaurant from Max Rocha – a canalside spot in Hackney. The open kitchen anchors the space, where head chef Jessica Filbey (formerly of the River Café) and her team move with calm precision, pulling pizza dough, slicing porchetta, and plating pasta under the watchful eyes of diners lucky enough to nab a front-row bar stool. Unlike many supremely successful chefs, Nieves Barragán Mohacho took a few years to open a second restaurant after launching her first, the knockout Sabor in Mayfair. But the menu stays joyously true to Bosi’s heritage, and the team staunchly avoids refining dishes beyond anything a Lyonnaise grandmother would recognise (Josephine is also named after Bosi’s own grand-mère).
Lanzhou Noodle Bar
Merging high-end food, glamorous interiors and a hard-to-impress postcode, with authentic familial influences and traditional Indian cuisine, BiBi was well worth the wait. I’d advise you to leave some room for dessert, too; the cacao ganache will be haunting my dreams for some time to come. This was followed by the freshest Irish oysters drizzled in a slap-in-the-face kind of hot fermented chilli sauce. The bisque is made up of the remnants of crab from one of the a la carte dishes – bonus points for waste reduction.
Where Taiano runs the mains, Gill has put together a pleasingly retro dessert menu that reminds me of my school days, albeit far more refined; riffs on rice pudding and chocolate sponge cake are joined by peach cobbler with clotted cream, one of the highlights of our meal. We’re encouraged to try the Tasting Menu to experience the breadth of the menu, ranging from a nigiri selection of bluefin tuna, yellowtail and trout to an aged monkfish paired with smoked eel, ginger sauce and a potato rosti. There’s a bustling open kitchen plan that overlooks the dining space, allowing guests to see first-hand the detailed precision with which the team works.
The set menu (£55 at lunch, £105 at dinner) changes frequently – snacks every week, larger plates depending on what ingredients look good. Joké’s Nigerian heritage is at the forefront of her home-style cooking, and it’s hugely exciting – if not long overdue – to see a business run by a Black woman flourishing in London’s competitive restaurant scene. Although the anjou pigeon a la presse is quite the spectacle (prepared tableside by a team of three), it’s the Crêpes Suzette that steals the show, doused and flambéed in Grand Marnier before being gently placed onto our plates in a neatly folded triangle. Many restaurants have tried to emulate the industrial-chic St John design blueprint, but this is the original – an unbuttoned, always excellent place to come for a long, boozy lunch fit for 1994. When choosing restaurants, our editors consider both high end and affordable eateries that offer an authentic and insider experience of a destination. Every restaurant on this list has been selected independently by our editors and written by a London-based Condé Nast Traveller journalist who has eaten at that restaurant.
We pile loha karahi chicken curry on mountains of rice and strips of leftover naan bread, adjusting our belts for more room as we mop up the richly spiced tomato sauce. The lightest spice is in the dunghar paneer tikka, which is enveloped in an uber-indulgent, nutty kaju masala sauce – the pools of vivid orange oil are best soaked up with a classic butter naan. We soon realise that everything has a kick, but it’s pleasant rather than overwhelming.
Talking of which, most of the meat on the menu is sourced from Scottish estates, though butchered and aged in the meat room downstairs. The closer to the grill you get, the more you may want to consider wearing shorts and a T-shirt – it’s intense, almost like being on the boilerplate non gamstop casinos of The Flying Scotsman as it chugs up to the Highlands. But another star of the show is the centrepiece wood-burning grill and oven at the far end of the dining room. They’ve assembled something of a crack team, with Ashley Palmer-Watts of Fat Duck and Dinner by Heston fame in the kitchen, front-of-house staff from St John’s and head butcher George Donnelly. It’s the passion project of Oisin Rogers, who has been steering London and Dublin pubs for three decades – most notably and most recently at The Guinea Grill – and Charlie Carroll, founder of Flat Iron steakhouses.
Paradise Cove opened following a crowdfunding campaign after his original restaurant Sugarcane was forced to close. This deceptively spartan restaurant just off Broadway Market serves up springy hunks of Guinness bread as well as deliciously dense Guinness cake, and even ice cream suffused with that stouty goodness. At Café Cecilia, you can squeeze in more than the requisite amount of the black stuff before lunchtime and operate heavy machinery afterwards. Expect everything from Balkan barbecue to fried doughnut-esque mekici served with jam and cheese, sausage baps, stuffed cabbage sarma, loads of burek and baklava buns. With its distressed flooring, bright white tablecloths and net half-curtains, the trattoria has gone down in legend for its mountainous beef shin ragu pappardelle – though every corner of this menu jostles with greatness. But there’s something uniquely impressive about a restaurant that goes the distance simply by doing their chosen cuisine very well indeed.
The best restaurants in London you should be booking (Updated July
- Collectively, the couple have spent over 15 years working in London’s most acclaimed kitchens, but Ravneet is probably best known for her time judging on Junior Bake Off.
- And now you mention it, the restaurant does look like a particularly upmarket garden centre café, albeit one run by London foodie royalty, Melanie Arnold and Margot Henderson.
- But this new outpost in Spitalfields is not vegan, with all manner of dairy- and/or egg-based wonders across the menu.
- This neighbourhood favourite is known for its all-vegetarian, south Indian menu.
- In spite of its Michelin star, acquired within a year of opening, Oma somehow manages to bridge the gap between elevated, sophisticated dining and a more relaxed, taverna-style restaurant.
If you’re not au fait with the delights of a tantuni, now’s your time to get involved. Arguably the most important British restaurant of the past decade. House wine is also very decent value at £27 for a 500ml carafe. There is also beef and pork tortellini in a delicate chicken brodo, tonno tonnato, meatballs zuppetta and aglio e olio spaghetti. The ackee and saltfish spring rolls; the confit pork belly; the wiri wiri lamb rump which comes with a light and smoky baba ganoush, sharp pickled onions, mint oil and tamarind jus. For meat eaters, it’s worth adding the poached chicken strips.
Some cult dishes haven’t made the jump. The new location sits under a railway arch and is a fresh, pared-back space with a stainless steel bar. London’s most-loved Thai restaurant, now relocated to Shoreditch.
For the food, we started with a crab bisque amuse-bouche to whet the whistle. However, these negative thoughts are washed away as I cross the threshold of the barely opened AngloThai in Marylebone and am embraced by the literal and figurative warmth of the space. Waiters buzz about in natty lilac or chocolate-brown jackets as I sip Gina’s martini, a tiny but lethal version made with olive-oil vodka and named after the restaurant’s muse and namesake, Taiano’s late mother Gina. Gina represents their first swing at nurturing a project all of their own in the locale they call home, sitting snug among the estate agents and corner shops of a nondescript high street at the end of the Overground. Wife and husband duo Ravneet Gill and Mattie Taiano have proven their chops on the capital’s food scene; Gill oversaw the sweet offering at the likes of St. John, Zuma and Black Axe Mangal, while Taiano has cooked for The Camberwell Arms, Franks and Som Saa.
St John recently celebrated 30 glorious years in the game and most great modern restaurants in London (if not the world) owe St John a serious and meaty debt. Chance your arm on a drop-in perch, where the full food menu is available. Camille is a place where carnivores will be much happier than vegetarians – it is French, after all – but it’s a triumph of imagination, talent, and guts (which you can expect to see on the menu regularly). Every spot on this list has been independently reviewed by Leonie and our critics, and we regularly revisit favourites to make sure the list stays current. This is a snapshot of where London dining is at right now; a city of global flavours, hilariously varying budgets and some of the best food you’ve ever eaten. If an engineer capable of besting Eiffel did not step forward soon, Burnham knew, there simply would not be enough time left to build anything worthy of the fair.
Found within the Radha-Krishna Temple on Soho Street, Govinda’s restaurant serves up what their website describes as karma-free food. Greek food is only the jumping-off point for a menu that begins on the Ionian islands before skipping off to the Levant by way of the Balkans, with a South American layover. Mostly though, Chan’s menu defies geographical borders, instead pushing culinary boundaries via dishes that simultaneously make you think and make you feel held. Of course, there is jerk chicken on the menu, but it’ll be the lamb that creates the most extreme food envy. There’s a slightly rowdy playlist that will have you questioning whether you’re in a club or restaurant.
The Ritz Restaurant
One of Belly’s ‘viral dishes’ is cured scallops in big, shallow shells, swimming in coconut cream with basil oil and little pickled chillies. An intimate Filipino restaurant in Kentish Town. Simply visit the walk-ins-only bar, where you’ll be able to get most of the snacky bits on the menu – including the legendary rarebit – and a glass of St John rouge. Our most recent visit saw us feast on cocks comb schnitzel and snout cassoulet, dishes that sound like you might have let Leatherface from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre into the kitchen. Head chef Elliot Hashtroudi learned his way around a carcass at St John and comes across like Keith Floyd in a trucker cap.
The latest Michelin-starred Spanish spot from Nieves Barragán Mohacho, the visionary chef behind Mayfair’s Sabor. One of London’s oldest restaurants, this hospitality monolith dates back to 1828 but recently re-opened after a fallow period. Instead, you will be awed by fat egg noodles glistening in rich, piquant curry laksa adorned with crispy onion and deep-fried seabass wallowing in rich chili sauce. Normah’s – named after its chef owner, whose nephew, Aizad, runs the front of house – fits that description perfectly. If anyone ever says that English food is bad, simply rub their face in a St John menu.
There’s still no dessert, and BYOB is still possible, despite rumours to the contrary; even better, the menu is still very reasonably priced, with nothing over £19. The old yellow restaurant sign now hangs on an inside wall. Word got out as food hounds made the pilgrimage there; the simple wooden tables were booked out months in advance. In 1999, Thai food often meant predictable green curries. I’d come here again for date night, or on a weekend with a group of friends to order endless plates of pasta and indulge in cocktails and gossip. I’m a tiramisu aficionado, but I’d actually recommend the lemon meringue here – the hint of fennel added a new depth of flavour and it was easy to stomach, even after the many courses on the menu.
The whole menu also makes use of local produce, with many of the ingredients being sourced from a Public House-owned garden in Oxfordshire’s Bruen Farms. Waiters flit to and fro with enviable plates of crab cakes (I can testify, a must), leek tart and fried mushrooms, as we take a seat at a corner table next to a pair who are already gushing over their starters. But as we’re here for supper, we follow the maitre d’ up a narrow staircase, past a lively open kitchen, until we’re in a rabbit hole of a dining room.
It’s industrial but warm – steel panelling, marble tabletops, and polished concrete floors are softened by canary-yellow booths and shelves stacked with pots and saucepans. At 9pm, a queue still snakes outside while inside, the space hums with life. Settle in with a 3-sip serve (a tiny cocktail made to cleanse the palate), like celeariac with rum or pear and vodka, and argue cheerfully with your dining companions about your must-orders.
Collectively, the couple have spent over 15 years working in London’s most acclaimed kitchens, but Ravneet is probably best known for her time judging on Junior Bake Off. In the depths of Queensway Market, behind a little doorway adorned with a laminated banner declaring the restaurant’s name, you’ll find a small room dotted with nondescript-looking tables and chairs. Extraordinary home-spun Malaysian restaurant in an unassuming setting which is currently under threat.
I expected these dishes to be given the Michelin treatment – portion sizes reduced, plates prettied up, a foam here or a jús there. The menu celebrates aspects of his terroir – the seafood-heavy accents of the coasts and Gaza; the maftool and freekeh of the traditional, olive-grove-filled centre; and the dried yoghurts and salting and drying traditions of the desert nomads. In spite of its Michelin star, acquired within a year of opening, Oma somehow manages to bridge the gap between elevated, sophisticated dining and a more relaxed, taverna-style restaurant. Located above Agora (the more laid-back ground-floor eatery), it’s the ultimate romantic spot, with flickering candlelight, a soft colour palette and cosy corners.
When it opened, there wasn’t an empty seat in the house for weeks as the city’s most fashionable flocked to get a table. One Club Row is the kind of restaurant that gets Londoners talking. This diminutive Soho spot is still our favourite in the Bao family – and well worth the queue. The Wiri Wiri lamp rump comes with a delicious mint crust and a gorgeous artichoke puree, and I’ve heard great things about the pan-seared pimento duck, although we didn’t manage to stretch our stomachs that far this time.
Will you be crammed into this small space to an almost uncomfortable level? Order the deep fried feta with quince relish, and burnt leeks with escabeche sauce and walnut dukkah. You’d be forgiven for thinking that the food must have suffered in the face of such dedication to the sesh. Both dishes are less than a tenner. But there are also plenty of dishes unique to here. Which actually makes it feel more like a backstreet San Sebastian pintxos bar than any fancy refit ever could.
This is the kind of restaurant you want to lose an afternoon in. An intensely violet-y Jordanian Saint George Petite Syrah accompanies us through plates of salty-spongy Nabulsi cheese; Sheikh El Mahshi baby aubergines with pickled herbs and walnuts; Rye Bay skate fish kofta and a slow-cooked lamb spiced with mahlab and mastic. Named after a flowering Palestinian thistle, it is a four-level earthy, imaginative space in a quiet symphony of natural greens, lemony yellows and poured creams. Now, behind the sage-green facade of a Notting Hill townhouse, he has unveiled petite Akub with his friend Rasha Khouri. Franco-Palestinian chef Fadi Kattan has done more than anyone to raise the status (and stake the rights) of Palestine’s gastronomic identity.
It’s unfussy and honest cooking, served in a setting that feels more country house than East End. Rochelle Canteen has come a long way in those two decades – from a low-key spot with “a big sharing table and a box for a till”, these days the team has been serving a diminutive, hyper-seasonal menu since before it was zeitgeisty to do so. No wonder it’s been drawing in Michelin chefs and curious tourists alike since it opened in November 2023. We’ve seen a flurry of London boozers reopening recently that have kept all the atmosphere intact but woven in excellent restaurants, such as Ben Tish at The Barley Mow, Hauser & Wirth’s The Audley and, best of all, Henry Harris’s Racine 2.0 at Clerkenwell’s The Three Compasses. This always-busy, always-buzzing restaurant, just around the corner from Spitalfields Market, is the kind of spot you’ve been loyal to since opening in 2016, or that you come to late-to-the-game, disbelieving that you’ve never booked a table here before. There’s a cosy atmosphere, creaky floors, and the nation’s most classic bar snacks (think pork scratchings) served alongside beers like Allsopp’s and Portobello Pilsner.
The Dubonnet Negroni comes with a succinct history lesson, and is a touch more syrupy than its aperitif original, but it was the Naturally Fresh that we’d ask for again, even if it comes off the menu. There’s no elegant way to eat the grilled prawn ‘soup’ (a peppery seafood broth) or the latke-inspired cassava fritters, but that’s what the stack of napkins is for. Despite the six previous courses, it’s gone in seconds – the perfect end to a dinner verging on a theatrical experience.