The best restaurants in London
The bronze pig’s head above the door is the first sign of Manteca’s credo, the mantra on their website telling you the rest: in-house <i>salumeria </i>, nose-to-tail cooking, hand-rolled pasta, fire-cooked cuts to share. It’s ticking so many of my daily urges that I dash through the door and perch at the bar in their opening week. I’ve been tracking chef/owner Chris Leach’s progression since first meeting him ten years ago at the trailblazing barbecue spot Pitt Cue, and most recently as Manteca was popping up as a temporary residency in a couple of London sites – now, together with co-owner David Carter of Smokestak, another temple to the glories of meat cooking and butchery, they have opened a permanent spot that is clever, subtle, and utterly compelling. The house <i>salumi</i> plate kicks things off, and we’re immediately into a confident strut, as silky black pepper salami moves on to delicately smoked <i>speck</i>, then great fat-marbled <i>coppa</i>, before the ‘wow’ inducing <i>mortadella</i>: rough-hewn, coarser and darker than the standard stuff, this is singing with the resonance of happy rare-breed pigs, and makes for a guilt-free rendition, a gentle hum of herbs and spice in the background. In the glass <i>salumeria</i> downstairs they make use of all the bits (both loved and unloved) of breeds including Mangalitza, Tamworth, and Gloucester Old Spots, making broths and sauces from the bones of animals they break down – the result is triumphant cured meat. Another statement from the kitchen which is a glorious paean to the chef etiquette of giving respect to a butchered animal by using every darn scrap, is the pig skin <i>ragú</i>, an outrageous menu item that demands attention. It’s served alongside a huge slab of crackling which I’m urged by bar manager Ilario to use to scoop up the contents of the bowl: I’m pleased he did, this is surely the best way. The skin is braised and finely chopped, cooked down with tomatoes and onions until achieving a form of gelatinous apotheosis, a hot mess sprinkled with parmesan and making an indecently good starter. While I could happily spend an afternoon piling into the excellent wine list while exploring the entire <i>salumi</i> selection, alongside crisp <i>gnocco fritto</i> and some of the bounciest, most flavoursome <i>focaccia</i> I’ve had for some time, I have tasted Leach’s pasta on several occasions, and know this to be showstopping – how much can I take down? The crab <i>cacio e pepe</i> makes another appearance here, with wriggly fat tubes of <i>tonnarelli</i>, and the heft and honk of buttery brown crab meat coating every strand, with an artful flourish of ground black pepper on one side. Next, I wade into the <i>fazzoletti</i> with duck <i>ragù</i>, the silkiest handkerchiefs of pasta blushing with the yellow of good yolks, a dousing of crunchy duck fat <i>pangratatto</i> on top – satisfying textural contrasts, deep flavours. As an adoring fan boy of the pasta at The River Café, the quality and execution of the cooking going on here will scratch that particular itch if I’m not trekking across to West London – that’s high praise from this resolute pasta fascist. While meat and pasta are the star tricks here, I enjoy some greens with a great rendition of <i>puntarelle alla romana</i>, the bitter chicory salad dressed with a punchy anchovy and chilli vinaigrette, even better when mopped up with more of that excellent <i>focaccia</i>. Sprout tops play a fine role by enveloping a peppery puck of beef sausage, with freshly grated horseradish and some its cream perking up the whole ensemble. Finishing off with some satin-textured <i>gelato affogato</i> (ice-cream sourced from Hackney Gelato, who Michelin starred restaurants are happy to use), I’m already plotting the return visit, to tuck into more pasta (regularly changed up), and to indulge in the compelling and very fairly priced wine list: on this occasion it was an ABV% free lunch, but a sharp and wide selection has many of my favourites, including Pieropan’s Soave <i>La Rocca</i>, Barbaresco from Sottimano, and Sonoma Pinot Noir from Littorai – it’s a list that deserves to quickly attract a grateful restaurant industry crowd. The room has a buzzy and insouciant feel that calls to mind a New York City attitude and vibe, a fine trick of combining casual with a quiet confidence, of serious integrity without any la dee dah navel gazing. Come here for the meat, stay for the pasta, glory in the pig skin <i>ragú</i> – this one’s a keeper. Reviewed by Zeren Wilson
Can a restaurant experience be brave, pushing the limits, yet deeply ‘analogue’? Thrillingly, yes. Wood smoke is in the air, even though the dining room is in the former red brick police HQ, now the striking Hyatt-owned Great Scotland Yard hotel, just off Whitehall. Not only is there a vast wood-burning domed oven & strictly no pizza on the menu, the open kitchen reveals dancing flames and glowing embers and cast iron skillets & medieval looking culinary accoutrements This is Nordic nirvana courtesy of Niklas Ekstedt, founder of the Michelin-starred Ekstedt in Stockholm, who turns out to be a (no longer) closet Anglophile (and perhaps points to the future in this era of fuel shortages?) The full seven course tasting menu is a must to truly experience the breadth of deliciousness achieved around ancient open-fire cooking methods eschewing electric ovens and gas burners in the kitchen. The first course is a scene stealer, oyster flambadou, referring to a cast iron implement with a cone the size of a tea cup and a pea sized hole at its tip to drop sizzling smoky beef fat onto the mollusc. This is probably the best oyster I will ever taste. Despite dining with an equally loquacious friend, we are both temporarily rendered speechless mouthing ‘wow’. The treat arrives with tiny crunchy balls of apple, bathed in beurre blanc, topped with a nasturtium leaf and explodes with pure, briny, revelatory flavour. This is not a meal for the squeamish or unadventurous. Next up is a ‘Nordic taco’ made from smoked ruby-red reindeer heart seared in a bowl at the table with all-spice and tart lingonberries to wrap in a fermented flatbread. It is so intensely, viscerally savoury and speaks of being deep in the wilds of Northern Scandinavia among the Sani, the indigenous reindeer herders Ekstedt grew up with who so influenced his primal ‘cooking’ technique. With the chefs (head chef opened Ekstedt’s wine bar) coming out of the kitchen to explain and present sizzling dishes, it reminds me of the exhilaration I experienced when I first visited Noma back in 2008 when New Nordic was truly new and I’d never tasted vendace roe, here served simply and exquisitely on charred, ember cooked leek. There’s a lobster dish with a most unusual juxtaposition of ingredients (a few surprises are de rigueur) and hay smoked mallard that comes with exceptional black pudding and trout roe, buckwheat and creamy, earthy turnip puree. It tastes like the soul of a forest. Dishes are explained with poetic pride as are the wine pairings (plenty of unexpected joys such as a Jura red) or soft beverages ranging from barley waters to rosehip, kombucha to freshly pressed apple juice. Dessert arrives as wood-fired cep souffle, improbably light and serendipitously partnered with the tang of wild blueberries and subtle resin of pine needle ice-cream. The dining room doesn’t have the rustic hygge of the Stockholm original I visited some four years ago, yet despite being within the hotel, it feels cosy and Scandi cosseting. Forget the booking frenzy surrounding Noma, somehow voted number one in The World’s 50 Best at its new address, here’s how to experience the Nordic spirit in London without prodigious outlay and push the boundaries of what’s delicious. Reviewed by Sudi Pigott
One Michelin star Luca is the epitome of fine Italian dining, with a warm atmosphere and spectacular presentation of food without sacrificing flavour. The menu may be Italian, but the ingredients are organically British, such as Orkney scallops and Scottish halibut, while the wine list is better described as a book.
Not only plant-based, but with one of the best vegan menus in London, Pied a Terre is the city's longest-running Michelin-starred restaurant. Chef Asimakis Chaniotis delicately blends French and Greek cuisine in the a la carte and tasting menus. Choose from over 800 wines on the wine list or pair your meal with a hand-picked wine flight.
On an unlikely looking stretch close to King’s Cross station, Dim Sum Duck quietly opened towards the end of 2020. It was a slow burn of an opening that gradually began to garner praise, with the cryptic note on their Instagram page stating that it was ‘run by a dim sum chef with 30 years’ experience’. Intriguing. Having navigated the perils of several lockdowns (or smackdowns, as I’ve begun calling them), the chance to drop in a couple of times finally arrived. A tiny, unassuming restaurant, offering no frills, no reservations, open all day – flinging out some of the best dim sum I have ever had. Pro Tip: arrive before 12pm or waltz in between 3-5.30pm, any other time and you’ll be faced with a queue. We arrive too early on a first visit for duck (still being prepared as we pile in at 12.01pm on opening), and instead trawl through as many dishes as we can. Everything we have is exceptional. We’ll get to the duck another day. The dim sum are eye-wideningly good. It’s clear we’re in stellar dumpling territory as soon as the Har Gau come out: the ultimate test of a dim sum chef’s skills, the delicate pleating requiring great dexterity, the supreme quality of these an indicator of what is to follow – translucent gossamer skins holding impeccable bouncy chunks of prawn with a whisper of sesame oil. We’re off to a rollicking start. Siu Mai are crammed with minced pork and prawn, the silken wrapping holding a plump, generous filling bursting out of its casing, excellent when dredged through some chilli oil. Two baskets in and we’re already planning a return visit. Shanghai soup dumplings are a total star, that delicate pleating in evidence again, almost impossibly thin and delicate, a deep and satisfying pork broth within – these are the kind of morsels that can make you grin inanely and wonder if you should order another round immediately. We resist, this time. Too many others to try. Roast pork cheung fun, a classic of Cantonese cuisine with its origins in the province of Guangdong, are the Platonic ideal of this wonderfully slippery rice noodle dish, jammed with good char siu pork, bathing in a pool of light soy (which begs to be slurped up at the end, which we do), with the prawn version coming in a close second. Wonderful, wonderful stuff. Deep fried prawn dumplings with ‘salad cream’ is a fun little number, a lacy, crisp carapace showing deft frying skills. I’m guessing the ‘salad cream’ here may the cutely packaged Kewpie mayonnaise, the Japanese condiment beloved of chefs across the world including David Chang of Momofuku fame – a flourish of playful cheffy fusion. Glutinous rice wrapped in lotus leaves, also known as lo mai gai, is another charmer. A present to be unwrapped, it reveals more of that excellent char siu pork, alongside chunks of chicken and mushroom: a package of joy, unfurling its sticky goodness, with flavour running through it until the very last grain of rice. Haunting. We end up chatting to charming owner Alec on our second visit, who breezily runs the front of house, and gently probe him with questions about the chef. The mystery remains, with the only detail revealed that the mystery man has been instrumental in the success of a top place in London. We’re loving the intrigue. A dish that we perhaps wouldn’t have jumped on during early visits, as we were in true dumpling mode, is the stir fried beef with Ho Fun noodles, which we’re steered towards by Alec as ‘a big favourite’ – he wasn’t wrong. Pitch perfect, showcasing good nuggets of beef, humming with smoky wok hei, the fabled ‘breath of the wok’ imparting magical smoky depth, another marker of the skill in the kitchen – every strand of noodle is perfectly coated with its delicate sauce. Mystery chef strikes again. It’s another ‘must order’. On our handful of visits, it’s hard not to order the favourites, yet the menu sprawls out into plenty of other tempting options, including ‘seafood bean curd spring roll’ and ‘slow stew pork ribs with watercress soup’. We’ll get to them eventually. It’s a spot that plays on your mind hours after leaving, a real teaser. Thankfully (dangerously) I pass through King’s Cross almost every day, and there’s now a recurring thought of: can I squeeze a couple of dumplings in before the train home? Yes, yes I very much can…and I will. This is as good a dim sum experience as you’ll find in London. It demands repeated visits. With dumplings – and more – as good as this, I’m happy for the chef mystery to remain. Reviewed by Zeren Wilson in September 2021
Tucked away in a former beer cellar beneath the rowdy Blue Posts pub in Soho, Evelyn's Table is pub food on a Michelin scale. Serving just two meals a day, the frequently changing menu combines British ingredients with Asian techniques. Sake and wine, including low ABV options, complete the experience.
<p>It was a choice between a Massaman curry and <em>foie gras</em> with Pedro Ximenz that led me to Andanza. I was on a mission, striding towards a favoured spot in London Bridge for some Thai fishcakes and more, when the pintxos menu in the window caught my attention in the window: <em>pil pil cod en tempura; mini hamburguesa con Manchego; foie gras con reducción de Pedro Ximenez </em>– hold my coat, I’m going in. </p> <p>Memories of several Txakoli-fuelled visits to San Sebastián are some of my most memorable restaurant/bar visits of all time, bouncing in and out of pintxo bars in the Old Town, and at Andanza I’m soon taking a gleeful bite out of a cutesy little slider-esque bun, reminding me of the irreverent A Fuego Negr<em>o,</em> where the kobe beef <em>hamburguesa </em>was one of several sparky little <em>pintxos</em> – it became a cult dish ordered by everyone. Here, it’s a belting start on a first visit which reassures me this place is<em> the real deal. </em></p> <p>Maybe it was luck that pulled me in here – I later find out that Andanza means ‘fortune’ or ‘fate’ in Spanish – but a couple of small plates later I’m charmed enough to start plotting another visit. It all starts to make sense when I find out that Head Chef is Paulina Irzyk, formerly senior sous chef at the excellent London Basque hang-outs Donostia and Lurra, two fantastic Spanish resaurants from the same owner. A tiny open kitchen adds a homely bustle to the room, and each time I’m impressed with the quality and playfulness of the dishes coming out. The clever knack of appearing effortless is achieved impeccably here. </p> <p>So, that <em>foie gras</em>: it may well be the best value £7 morsel in London. A second visit sees my pal immediately ordering another couple for us, and he’s bang on with that move. Slab of wobbling seared foie, on warm bread, a drizzle of sweet/tangy Pedro Ximenez, and a walnut flourish on top – it’s the most decadent bar snack in town. Again, memories are pinging back to San Sebastián, as with this one they seem to be channelling bustling La Cuchara de San Telmo, where I remember watching goggle-eyed as a flurry of similar dishes streamed out of a tiny kitchen to a bar crammed with drinkers.</p> <p>Another eye-wideningly good couple of plates come during a third visit with the ebullient and irrepressible Hugh Wright, their PR honcho who has been helping them again since London has begun whirring into some form of normality after a tricky couple of restriction-besmirched years: a perfect dining wing-man <em>campadre</em>, it allows us to take on some of the larger ‘tapas’ dishes alongside those cheeky and compelling <em>pintxos</em>. Breaded tuna loin and goat’s cheese sounds a bit mental and has to be tried, and is a little revelation: delicately crumbed tuna, stuffed with cheese and topped with air-dried tuna loin from Andalucia known as <em>Mojama</em>, which does a fine impression of jamón and is cured in exactly the same way. It’s like an unholy schnitzel breaking all the rules and having a riot. An ‘order again each visit’ dish. The other larger dish sees fillets of the John Dory smooching with white bean purée, and sounds much sexier in Spanish: <em>San Pedro, puré de fabes, salsa verde </em>– ¡olé! we have another hit. </p> <p>Attention to detail is all around, from the quality of the ‘picos’ bread sticks, several notches above the usual with more heft and artisanal grain flavour, the filtered clarity of the ice in their excellent gin and tonics, and the perfect char on the bread for the classic <em>pan con tomate</em> that carries a luscious smear of garlicky tomato pulp, soused with plenty of good olive oil – details matter, and they’re nailing them here. </p> <p>Other playful dishes include the Pil Pil cod en Tempura 'fish and chips', a finely battered little tranche with a 'vinegar sauce' and a riotous pomegranate seed scattered Pulled Goat Crumpet. <em>Arroz negro</em> hums with the stock from baby squid chipirones and is topped with a flourish of cockles. The smart wine list has character and focus, with sharp picks of Ribeira Sacra from Dominio do Bibei, and the Gallina de Piel 'Mimetic' from David Seijas, former long-time sommelier of the legendary three Michelin starred El Bulli — the food here sits comfortably among such company.</p> <p>Anything not to love about Andanza? Yes, the fact that it's not at the end of my road. Lucky London Bridge locals: fate must have brought them together.</p> <p>Reviewed by Zeren Wilson </p> <p> </p>
A quiet confidence emanates from the menus of Café Deco – its stark simplicity and understated elegance assures the diner that everything is going to be alright. Chef/owner Anna Tobias has serious industry kudos running through her culinary DNA, from working with titan Jeremy Lee at Blueprint Café, regular stints at The River Café, to her first Head Chef role at Rochelle Canteen, the hidden gem in a Shoreditch schoolyard. Her first solo gig was always going to be keenly watched by those tracking the stars of the London cheffing scene. Now she has come roaring out of the traps with the kind of spot that lucky Bloomsbury residents will be delighted to call their ‘local’, an oasis of calm a short stagger from Tottenham Court Road. It’s a neighbourhood restaurant that rewards repeated weekly visits, the menu shifting subtly – and temptingly – every day. Over the last couple of years, Tobias has continued to have stints at the River Café, as well as a residency at Clapton wine bar P. Franco, an incubator for several chefs who have gone on to open their own venues. During this time, she has become known for championing ‘brown food’ on Instagram: unfussy plates of home-cooking which value flavour rather than looks: anything from anchovy toast to Scotch broth. The Café Deco venture is a collaboration with 40 Maltby Street, the restaurant and wine bar which has done much to lead the renaissance of the dining scene in the environs of Borough Market. Opening first as a takeaway towards the end of 2020, my first taste of Café Deco had me revelling in a fat slab of tortilla wedged between bouncy fresh focaccia, a slick of garlicky aioli helping things merrily along – worth the indecent double-carbing. The focaccia was such a star, not a mere vessel for the excellent tortilla, that I asked Anna where it was from: “It’s our own focaccia”, she said. Of course it was, and it showed. Now able to open for full table service, the details shine through everywhere: from the homemade sourdough bread and tangy butter to the strikingly retro-labelled and extremely mineral Loire sparkling water Source Parot, drawn from the volcanic rocks of the Monts du Forez and naturally carbonated. A plate of new-season asparagus, Jersey Royal potatoes, and the silkiest, diaphanous Italian ham encapsulates the Café Deco credo, a confident strut of distinct elements jiving alongside each other – the ham is exceptional, lacy sweet fat, satin-textured. Potted shrimp is a classic, flawlessly delivered, the shrimps studded into a butter rich with cayenne pepper, blushingly orange, alongside some pickled slivers of cucumber. On this visit, it takes extreme self-discipline not to also order the ravishing sounding lamb faggots with creamed nettles and onion gravy – next time. Another visit sees me dropping in for a dish that perfectly encapsulates Tobias’ ethos of generosity of flavour trumping cheffy artifice: a plate of buckwheat and mushroom cabbage rolls, the most thrilling plate of ‘peasant food’ I’ve had all year. I am soothed by these parcels of green, stuffed with buckwheat grains, topped with a rich slurry of tomato sauce that could just have easily been the finest ‘sugo di pomodoro’ in a plate of pasta at The River Café – kitchen skills singing from the plate, a handful of ingredients, a bewitching symphony. There are Café Deco jams and preserves, jarred items to take-away, such as minestrone, lamb meatballs with orzo, and chocolate and prune tartlets cutely laid out on the bar. Wine is a big focus too, with the whole list available for off-sales. I find myself feverishly checking their Instagram page each day for what may be on the menu, to see if I can be tempted (oh yes, I can) by even a quick drive-by takeaway, which could be asparagus frittata or cheese and spring onion quiche one day, a sausage and cime di rapa focaccia on another. Waldorf Salad; watercress soup; eggs mayonnaise; deep fried Gubbeen and potato salad; gnudi and wild garlic pesto; cicoria and borlotti bean stew; mint choc-chip ice-cream; crème caramel. It’s the kind of menu that tugs you in, holds you tight, refuses to let you go. Homely cooking with an unerring sense of focus and sure handed ethos. Get there. Return. Repeat. It’s the kind of local that is worth travelling for…wherever you live. Reviewed by Zeren Wilson in May 2021
Putting a vegan twist on traditionally meat-centric Caribbean food, Jam Delish in Islington is family owned and fully plant-based. Their classic dishes like saltfish, fried plantain and curried goat are mixed with traditional spices and sauces to create modern, tasty plates.
Fluffy foccacia, cacio e pepe and prawn ravioli are paired with a strong selection of Italian wines at this casual Islington eatery. The spring silk scarves of Bancone fame are the crowning glory of chef Louis Korovilas, and combined with careful presentation and friendly staff, it's the perfect neighbourhood Italian.
Russell Norman's reimagined Italian trattoria ticks all the boxes, serving pasta classics and Florentine favourites, plus a variation of steaks by weight. The house wines and negronis served on gingham tablecloths are the icing on the cake of a homely yet luxurious experience.
The first time I tasted the food from chef Max Rocha was towards the end of 2020, in a pub called Mannion’s, the finest Irish pub in Tottenham. Chowing down on a handsomely hefty pork, apricot and pistachio terrine, I knew this was a chap to keep tabs on. He was also knocking out a cracking Guinness soda bread `and sprats with mayonnaise – no nonsense, gutsy cooking, drawing on both his Irish heritage and his time spent in the kitchens of London stalwarts such as The River Café, St. John Bread and Wine, and Spring. So here he is, his first permanent spot on the Regent’s Canal in East London – the term ‘café’ is misleading, this is a proper restaurant – and from the kick-off, the menus and cooking here are worthy of serious attention amongst the rash of openings in the London food milieu. The vibe is indeed canteen-chic: a clattery stark white dining room hosting a fully open kitchen, the rattle of pans and hiss of the grill there to enjoy, observe and titillate, if that’s your thing – it very much happens to be mine. The opening salvo of sage and anchovy fritti sets the tone, the kind of salty fried nuggets that enjoy the accompaniment of the bitter twang of a Campari spritz. Perhaps two or three. A good start. Open from breakfast with bacon sandwiches, kippers and brown butter and capers, and homemade black pudding with poached eggs, the couple of lunches that I’ve enjoyed there already include some ‘must orders’. Rabbit pasta is a constant on the menu at the moment, ribbons of pappardelle tangled amongst delicate shreds of rabbit, bolstered by the grunt of the odd piece of offal running through it – satisfying, carefully judged, skilful stuff. Pizzetta with Taleggio and Parma ham, a crisp disc topped with cheese carrying a suitably satisfying honk, is a carbon-copy of the one wheeled out at The River Café, and it’s clear Max has churned out many of these there: joyfully, at a fraction of the price here at Café Cecilia. Onglet with a nigh-on-perfect green peppercorn sauce and chips, has also been on each menu since the opening weeks; ravishingly ruby-red steak, deep beefy flavour, expertly judged, and the kind of potato skills that show an Irishman’s devotion to the tuber – this may be the finest iteration of steak frites in London right now. More skilful riffs on the potato appear with a supreme potato cake, thinly layered potato pave style, two thick fried slabs, jiving alongside a wickedly silky cod’s roe and thinly sliced radishes: taramasalata that’s gone to university and emerged with a Ph.D. During the same lunch, we end up happily over-ordering, as a specials board knocked us off-kilter from the menu, leaving us compelled to order a Coronation chicken sandwich and chips (excellent, crammed with chicken thighs between toasted sourdough), and the tempting plaice and gribiche (spooned up to the very last morsel of egg, caper and tarragon-flecked mustard mayonnaise) – the same board led us astray into girolles and green sauce on toast, with a couple of unadvertised fried eggs, blushing orange yolks happily tipping us over edge. Desserts feature homely tarts and ice-creams, sorbets and possets, chocolate pots and shortbread – simple classics, zero faff, executed with love and aplomb. If there is a ‘caff’ vibe at all, it comes from the echo and jangle of the room when it’s full, and from the array of bread (excellent large roundels of crisply carapaced sourdough and Guinness bread) and a daily tart, all available to take-away for those on the hoof. It’s a clever trick to pull off a serious restaurant with the breezy feel of an all-day diner, but it’s also a savvy one, being a short stagger away from the bustle of Broadway Market, a destination and haven for discerning food-centric Londoners for years – the crowd in this part of town will soon sniff out the treats being served in this room. Some chefs are worth keeping track of as they work their way through some of the best restaurants in the land. We have one here who has made a much-anticipated debut with confidence and a quietly modest swagger – no need to keep tracking, we know exactly where to find him, here by the canal-side in E8. Reviewed by Zeren Wilson
The Guinea Grill is famous for its grass-fed British beef, which it has served in a variety of ways since the 1960s. Steaks, mixed grills and pies are all on the menu, and the Sunday roast with thick gravy and Yorkshire pudding can't be topped.
Despite its 19th century origins, the menu at the Pig and Butcher is refreshingly modern, using local meats cooked and cured on site. A consistently lively atmosphere, fantastic steaks and Sunday roasts, and a wine list sourced from family-run vineyards make this a cosy local pub not to be missed.
Mostly taken up by greenery during the day, and elegantly lit at night, Coq d'Argent's rooftop not only has some of the best views of the city, but some of the best French cuisine too. The restaurant actually has four terraces, where you can enjoy all the classics either alfresco or under cover paired with plates selected by the Head Chef.
Alto by San Carlo, perched on the side of Selfridge's department store, is London's answer to a summer in Tuscany. White tablecloths and roof beams wrapped with lemon tree vines provide a city escape - whether you're enjoying an Italian coffee, evening aperols or an upscale dinner.
Inspired by India's former military mess clubs, Brigadiers serves light Indian street food, grilled and tandoori meats in the City of London. Reminiscent of an old-world party, with designated areas for pool and card games, beer and whisky are encouraged, as is lively chit-chat.
Despite Seabird being famous for boasting London's longest oyster menu, this rooftop bar and restaurant with skyline views is ideal for just a tipple. Cosy cushions and plants make it feel like a jungle oasis, and to match the vibe in summer, choose a fruity frozen cocktail or some sparkling wine.
Now in their permanent location in Oxford Circus, Tendril is a plant-first dining concept that stays away from fauz meats and puts vegetables front and centre in a variety of delicious dishes. They aim for zero waste eatery centres around root-to-shoot food like pak choy in massaman sauce, chipotle mushrooms and leek fritters.