17 central London restaurants with festive sparkle
Published 25 November 2025

Fitzrovia is not necessarily short of smart, efficient bistros with a switched-on city ambience, but here is one that stands head and shoulders above the competition. The layout will look familiar – close-packed tables, glass dividers, an open kitchen at the back – but there is a distinctiveness to both the atmosphere and the essentially French cooking. Staff are knowledgeable and voluble in equal measure, and there is no cold feeling of being processed. The kitchen, under Stuart Andrew, is conscious of making an impression – even something as humble as soupe au pistou comes out swinging, full of tiny carrot and courgette brunoise, bites of green bean, poached fresh coco beans and super-fine noodles, with a generous dot of intense basil pistou. To follow, a fillet of sea bass on spinach with mussels in a saffron-scented sauce made with the mussel liquor is a star performance, while the game season furnishes a roast partridge with boudin blanc, quince and parsley roots. The side-order of truffade (a baconed-up dauphinoise with a breadcrumb topping) is a must. Finish with something as simple as a Neapolitan triumvirate of homemade ice creams or tarte au citron with bergamot Chantilly. An impressive wine list has been meticulously selected with an eye to the quality-price ratio; glasses start at £8, and there are some real treasures on the splash-out 'cellar list'.

Run with consummate grace and decorum by ever-present Gavin Rankin, this archetypal Mayfair brasserie feels as if it has been around forever – even though it only arrived on the scene in 2004. Inside, the green banquettes are almost an institution in themselves, and everything about the beautifully appointed dining room speaks of discreet civility and understated class – no wonder the late Queen Elizabeth felt right at home here.

In fact, everyone is most welcome and the whole place exudes genuine warmth – thanks in part to ‘truly exceptional’ staff and classical service of the old school. The menu is built on precisely executed, canonical specialities with Provençal overtones – think asparagus with hollandaise sauce, iced lobster soufflé and jambon persillé ahead of steak tartare with Pont Neuf potatoes, red mullet with anchovy butter or entrecôte of beef with pommes frites.

Many dishes have impressed of late, from devilled eggs (rich and creamy) to Dover sole, executed with consummate elegance, flair and copious quantities of butter – plus a dash of seasoning to bring it home. Desserts are well-tried classics, from île flottante, Marina’s chocolate cake and tarte tatin to Bellamy's famous 'soft' ice creams. Otherwise, a bowl of Minstrels (often brought out by Rankin himself) provides the final satisfying flourish. The lunchtime table d’hôte is a steal, and the fiercely Francophile wine list (from £30) offers terrific value across the range.

Are high-profile restaurants above pubs becoming a thing in London? On the first floor of the Three Compasses pub in Farringdon, this reworking of Henry Harris’s famed (and much missed) Racine in Knightsbridge revives the chef’s avowed mission to provide resolutely French food and drink after a gap of seven years. Reached via steep stairs, it’s a pleasant, light-filled room, where a lot of effort has gone into creating a mood that is warm and unpretentious. Come here if you want straight-talking Gallic brasserie classics, dishes straight out of Larousse Gastronomique. Escargots à la bourguignonne, perhaps, or Bayonne ham with celeriac rémoulade, then rabbit with mustard sauce or côte de boeuf with sauce béarnaise. All dishes are chosen from a large, densely written blackboard menu, hoisted from table to table – a convincing slice of France if it weren’t for the mainly English accents of the on-the-ball waiting staff. Our meal opened with a gutsy, rich scallop dish (one of the evening specials), served with its coral atop a purée of fennel, lemon and olive oil, ahead of a Racine classic – tête de veau with a punchy sauce ravigote (one of the best-selling items on the menu). To conclude, we enjoyed a hard-to-fault pot de crème aux griottines. The mainly French wine list is a good one, with about 14 by the glass (from £7.50), and bottles from £29.95.

Brunswick House was one of the glories of Vauxhall when it was extended lavishly in the mid-18th century, but its fate was to be hewn in two. One half ended up headquartering the gasworks and then the local railway company, while the other was acquired by the Duke of Brunswick. It is here, amid chequerboard floors, battalions of chandeliers and luxurious drapes, that a combined restaurant, café and cocktail bar operation has sprung forth, with an outdoor terrace for taking the Vauxhall air. The main dining room can feel a touch draughty on a winter's night, but hang tough, because here comes Jackson Boxer with some contemporary brasserie cooking that adds gloss to an already lustrous scene.

The smash hit among the nibbles is his hash brown piped with duck liver parfait and topped with sliced kumquat. Togarashi-spiced Brixham squid with charred white cabbage makes a case for itself among the starters (apart from its jarring dollop of English mustard), or there might be on-trend crudo of chalk stream trout sharpened with green apple and sorrel. For main course, the likes of Tamworth pork chop with rhubarb or cod in saffron broth with broccoli, aim to keep taste buds firing, but the most dynamic action is in the sharing dishes. Our spatchcocked chicken had been roasted to retain its moistness from leg to wing to breast, and came with accompaniments of salty clams, Brazilian-style moqueca broth and discreet jalapeño pistou, all topped with a herbaceous border's worth of mint and coriander – a roaring success.

At the end, there could be riz au lait with rhubarb and pistachio, or a wodge of walnut and coffee cake in a sabayon of Pedro Ximénez. Wines look as though they are doing their best to live up to the surroundings, with fairly ferocious mark-ups. A short slate of 'special pours by the glass' could be worth considering, if you've a yen for old Gevrey, middle-aged Austrian Riesling or spanking-new Oxfordshire fizz.

Here we have a little haven of French provincial cooking amid the bustle of Borough Market, a neat, simply dressed bistro with candles on the tables and a menu featuring pâté en croûte, grilled ox heart with Café de Paris butter, and a daily line-up of blackboard specials. Clare Lattin and Tom Hill cut their teeth at London’s Ducksoup, then moved on to osteria Emilia in Devon, so they have serious chops when it comes to running restaurants. There’s nothing quite like the buzz in here when the place is full, with upbeat service adding to the all-round joie de vivre.

The kitchen is run by Elliot Hashtroudi, who takes due account of seasonal British produce for a series of delicious French vignettes where each plate is allowed to shine in its own right. We kicked off with a snack of smoked eel served atop curried devilled eggs, before tackling a starter of white crabmeat perfectly matched with a barattiere melon and cucumber emulsion, heritage tomatoes and a melon granita. For the main course, the richness of a superb Welsh pork schnitzel (crisp on the outside, juicy on the inside) was offset by a salad of greengage and crispy pig's ear – although a combo of octopus, pig's trotter and bacon looked equally intriguing. 

To finish, we were taken by the peach tart and the canelé with lemon curd, but finally settled for a rich dark chocolate marquise topped with Chantilly cream and beef-fat salted caramel. A dozen low-intervention wines from small French and Italian producers start at £35, with by-the-glass selections changing each day.

Camellia Panjabi was one of the first restaurateurs in London to showcase, in a modern idiom, the many-splendid iterations of Indian regional cooking. This is upscale food that shines with glittery excitement and regal flavours in a glamorous setting. On arrival, you are engulfed in a wave of attention; some might feel a touch overwhelmed, but for others it’s a magic carpet ride to the glory days of the Raj. The cavernous interior is glitzy, glossy, lavishly crammed with gilt, crystal, shimmering lights, framed colonial prints, large artworks and etched glass.

The food is equally polished: dabba gosht was a creamy, nutty lamb stew; baked crab balchao served in its baking dish was gently spiced and topped with crispy breadcrumbs. Other small plates might include baked venison samosa or scallops in Mangalorean sauce. There is an Indian barbecue selection offering the likes of tandoori Amritsan sea bass or Afghani chicken tikka, as well as roster of slow-cooked dishes that includes 'Parsi wedding' duck, Bengal lamb curry and a delicious nut-thickened Karwan fish curry made with halibut. The waiting staff are happy to convey any request to modify the spicing back to the kitchen.

Desserts are equally wide-ranging within the national compass: dark chocolate and Punjabi rum tart, cherry shrikhand or perfect Persian kulfi, elegantly moulded like citrus segments and served on a silvery plate. The Sunday brunch is also worth noting, as is the Pukka Bar lunch. 

Jackson Boxer is one of the most versatile chef-owners in the capital and with the price of premium seafood squeezing margins at Orasay, he re-jigged the concept in early 2025 and relaunched the place as Dove – a more accessible proposition. The interior has remained largely untouched: muted and stripped-back, with herringbone flooring, off-white walls, squishy orangey banquettes and pendant lighting. Wooden tables with flickering candles are closely packed along the front room, but there’s more generous spacing at the back that benefits from a skylight – perfect on a warm sunny day, although it can get noisy when busy.

Boxer's extensive repertoire comes to the fore in a broadly based menu that ventures beyond seafood. Orasay’s popular crispy potato cake is now deep-fried, topped with raw scallop and finished with a touch of finger lime and chicken salt, while deep-fried Taleggio and Wiltshire truffle lasagne is an utterly moreish prospect. That said, the kitchen hasn't forgotten how to cook fish: four king-sized red Atlantic prawns are simply grilled with smoked garlic and black-lime butter, while steamed hake with caramelised pumpkin, hazelnuts and mint is a beautifully balanced dish. Larger plates might include Tamworth pork loin chop or glazed duck leg with smoked beetroot for those hankering after some animal protein, and there's an 'off-menu' burger too. To finish, Estate Dairy 'Fior di Latte' soft serve, sprinkled with early-harvest olive oil and served with oat cookies provides a pleasant finale. 

The wine list has also been reconfigured and features a global selection of bottles from £35, with almost everything available by the glass. A handful of weekly special pours is offered by the glass, and there are half a dozen options for non-drinkers. Service is friendly, easy-going and well-tuned to the cool, bustling neighbourhood vibe.

From the street Humo’s muted appearance gives little away, but its owners (the Creative Restaurant Group, which includes Endo at the Rotunda) have splashed out on the interior. The room certainly has impact – the former Wild Honey spot never felt as glitzy. Devoted to 'live fire' cooking, the best seats are at the long, deep counter overlooking the rush of heat and flames of the four-metre-long wood grill – there are conventional dining tables, too.

In charge of it all is Robbie Jameson, a chef with an unerring feel for cooking over flames, using different kinds of wood to enhance flavours. He puts a strong emphasis on seafood, too, and his menu shouts out to the flavours of East Asia, notably Japan, all refracted through an occidental prism – a style that a finely pitched opener of Hampshire trout smoked over applewood summed up perfectly. Topped by roe marinated in yuzu, with a ‘salad’ of compressed apple and myoga (Japanese ginger root) and set on a sauce of English horseradish, pineapple, mango and lime, it was all about clear flavours, freshness and intensity.

Impressive technique is used to enhance, not to overwhelm: a single scallop is roasted directly over wood from aged whisky barrels, giving a sweet, subtle smokiness that’s underscored by a whisky, brown butter and verjus sabayon, while slices of nectarine provide a sweet-fresh note. Elsewhere, a nugget of 32-day aged Cornish lamb with beetroot sauce is made memorable with a Castelfranco radicchio ‘salad’ topped with sweet onion jam made from aged balsamic, celeriac and apple, while the accompanying skewer of confit lamb belly pressed with spinach and garlic is a perfect example of layering complex flavours. Dessert might be 'cinders' ('something sweet when the flames are off') or pandan and lime cream with 72% Araguani chocolate and blood orange. A set lunch option with optional wine pairings is a good introduction to Jameson's cooking, while the full wine list takes itself very seriously with prices that reflect the postcode.

Opened in 1927 as L’Escargot Bienvenue (complete with a snail farm in the basement), this bastion of old Soho has moved gently with the times while retaining its ageless sense of style – thanks in part to its current patron Brian Clivaz. A substantial refit in 2023 enhanced the famously warm, softly lit interiors, numerous salons and private spaces, and the veritable gallery of artwork lining the walls.

‘Slow and sure’ is the restaurant’s motto, and the kitchen continues to deliver a comforting rendition of 'la cuisine bourgeoise' – which means lobster salad, navarin of lamb, grilled halibut with hollandaise, confit duck with Puy lentils, crème brûlée and chocolate soufflé. The titular gastropods are shipped up from Herefordshire these days, although their treatment is as emphatically traditional as ever – slathered with parsley and garlic or, perhaps, flambéed with Pernod. Occasionally the menu strays off-piste for the likes of crab linguine with leeks and tarragon or asparagus and pea risotto, but it's back to France for cheeses and madeleines.

Fixed-price lunches and pre-theatre deals are good value for the postcode, afternoon tea is a pleasing surprise, and ‘flavoursome’ Sunday lunches have delivered ‘exceptional quality’ – from ‘rôti de côte de boeuf à l‘anglaise’ to tarte au citron. Wines are patriotically Gallic, of course, with big-ticket bottles for those who want to splurge but also some more affordable regional options for everyday drinking.

Originally conceived by the owners of the Clove Club, this ‘Britalian’ restaurant is almost as well-known for its bar as its restaurant –so it was with some reluctance that we bypassed the Negroni-based fun in favour of the dining room. Until we clapped eyes on the space itself, that is: a stunning covered garden worthy of a Roman palazzo. Seating is divided between an attractive cosmopolitan room and a terrace complete with a fireplace, cobbles and foliage (you can specify where you sit when you reserve). For the Luca-on-a-budget experience, try the bar, where lunch is currently £32 for two courses. Otherwise, those with cash to splash can knock themselves out with four courses, Italian-style, and a bottle or two from the impressive Italian list – specialist subject Barolo (sub-£50 bottles are few). Vitello tonnato may now be ubiquitous in London but we’ll never tire of it when it's as satisfying as this. The veal is more well done than is fashionable – a good thing – but is tender and flavoursome beneath a generous spoon of tonnato mayonnaise and a frisky celery, artichoke and lemon salad. Terrific stuff. Fresh pasta is a standout: mezzi paccheri with a pork sausage ragù gains depth from anchovy and freshness from mint, while green and yellow variegated ribbons of tagliatelle with rabbit, lardo and green olives are comforting and luxurious in equal measure. Secondi at inspection include Hebridean lamb with caponata, Hereford beef fillet and short rib, and a dish of John Dory with mussels, mousserons, Jersey Royals and a frothy lemon verbena sauce. Tiramisu, like your nonna might make, is a bravely unfancy finish; vanilla panna cotta with Yorkshire rhubarb is a nicely executed pairing, if lacking the ‘Luca’ signature that characterises the restaurant's best dishes. Overall, a confident operation. Credit, in particular, for setting a tone as conducive to business as it is to pleasure.

There are a number of contenders for London’s best-looking dining room, but the old Criterion (established in 1873) must come very near the top of the list. Now fully restored after years in the doldrums, the interior pays homage to the Parisian-style grand brasserie, with extravagant decoration in the form of a stunning gold mosaic ceiling, marble walls studded with semi-precious stones, and an impressive, raised stage-like private dining area to the rear. However, as the lamps and artefacts indicate, culinary inspiration comes from India – this 180-seater is now the capital’s fourth Masala Zone, that highly regarded group from the family behind some of London’s best upmarket Indian restaurants (Chutney Mary, Veeraswamy and Amaya).

The joy of eating at any Masala Zone is that each kitchen dives straight into well-loved traditional specialities in ways that make them seem full of unexplored potential. A broad selection of small plates and snacks kicks things off, perhaps a moreish 'onion flower' bhaji or lamb sliders served in home-baked caramelised onion pao bread. Follow with a deliciously fragrant Alleppey prawn curry lifted by a blend of freshly stone-ground spices and mellowed with coconut, or a fiery chicken dish (from the southwestern city of Mangalore) balanced with coconut milk and lime. They serve an excellent butter chicken, too. The paneer, made fresh daily, is not to missed, whether makhanwalla (a rich, caramelised tomato curry) or tikka (marinated in yoghurt, fenugreek leaves and yellow chilli).

Biryanis are equally worthy of attention, as are the all-in-one thalis (a perfect budget option if you're eating solo). Breakfast and afternoon ‘high chai’ are also worth knowing about. Prices are kind, staff are charming, and the mayhem of Piccadilly Circus seems a world away. The Masala Zone group is also famed for its ‘snappy’ cocktails and well-chosen, food-friendly wines.

Sited in a Queen Anne townhouse in Holborn, this was the first of the Noble Rot triplets to emerge, and it established the format to perfection. There is a distinguished menu of Anglo-French cooking, there are small-plate snacks in the bar area, a long counter, walls full of appealing prints, and – not least – a wine list that, from teeny taster tots to bottles of the world's finest, coaxes all palates and pockets to try out new things and celebrate the old.

A reporter who knows his black puddings found nothing but admiration for the Christian Parra boudin noir, served here with chicory roasted in port. That was followed by Yorkshire pheasant with soft, positively gooey polenta given textural heft with chestnuts. Another seasoned diner writes that ‘Saturday lunch is my happy place,’ and where better to spend it than on the set menu here, which offers superb value and unforgettable flavours into the bargain?

It might start with something as simple as egg mayonnaise, a perfectly pitched boiled egg in sumptuous, glossy dressing with an assertive mustard kick, criss-crossed with a pair of Ortiz anchovies. Proceed to a dish of morteau sausage on mustard-strafed soupy lentils, and a wodge of the house sourdough to mop up. On the main menu, things get even classier, when Cornish brill in vin jaune with Alsace bacon competes with Swaledale mutton chops and puntarelle for favour. The bistro desserts rise to the stars for crème caramel with Sauternes raisins or the near-perfect lemon tart, ‘just the right side of mouth-puckering with citrus, then sinking into sweet creaminess’.

The wine list, meanwhile, is worth spending a while with: there are glasses of more obscure and overlooked wines among the first battalions, with Coravin selections of those in their finest array to follow on. Choices across the globe are hardly ever less than excellent, and if you're on a splash, there are few better spreads of Champagne in London.

A fixture of dining out in the heart of the West End since the time of George III, Rules is now well into its third century of operations. It remains a gloriously unreconstructed monument to British ways of dining, coming into its own particularly during the game season. A diner who knows his birds regretted the seeming obsolescence of the grouse season these days, but was relieved to find a red-legged partridge on the bill of fare in September. A silver pint tankard of Black Velvet (Champagne got up in a sombre coat of Guinness, originally to mourn the passing of Prince Albert in 1861) makes for a satisfying entrée to the Rules experience.

Dishes that have slipped into the heritage category are treated as if they were still the acme of gastronomy – witness the steak and kidney suet pudding freighted with tender succulent beef and intensely flavoured offal (plus an oyster too, if you will), together with another silver vessel, this time a boat of extra gravy. Add sides of dauphinoise and creamed spinach, and satisfaction is complete.

Start perhaps with stuffed mussels replete with garlic and herb butter, topped with breadcrumbs, or one of the daringly modern salads – smoked ham, pomegranate and blood-orange, or beetroot, apple, walnut and blue cheese – the better to enjoy the richness to come. Main-course fish includes a salmon escalope napped with Champagne chive butter, but meat options tend to be the favourites: a ‘cassoulet’ made with rabbit, smoked bacon and black pudding, for example. Treacle tart and orchard fruit crumbles are de rigueur for afters, but flourless blood-orange and chocolate cake shows that not all passing trends pass Rules by.

A deeply traditional wine list opens with a Rhône red and a dry white Bordeaux by the glass. Service, from initial halloo to fond farewell, is impeccable throughout, while the decorative style (complete with glistening burnished wood, classical figurines, old prints and paintings) augments the atmosphere a treat. Be prepared, though, for a steep, narrow ascent to the bathrooms.

Discreet elegance is the Cocochine’s stock-in-trade, perceptible from the moment you step into the ground-floor dining room or ascend to the intimate chef’s counter above. While there’s a palpable sense of luxury and ease, it’s the innate sense of hospitality from the front of house staff matched with the creative, inspired and personal cooking from Sri Lankan-born chef Larry Jayasekara that makes the place memorable.

Jayasekara’s gastronomic signature is the artful incorporation of Sri Lankan nuances and seasoning into technically dazzling modern food, its roots embedded in his classical training in France and Britain. To get a glimpse, the ridiculously good-value three-course set lunch is a great intro; otherwise, it’s eight seriously impressive courses. Technique is used to enhance rather than overwhelm ingredients, and the result is a stunning showcase for prime British produce. A pick of the early courses was an enormous langoustine served over seaweed and green lentils, paired with Jerusalem artichoke purée and finished with a rich lobster bisque. Later, a dish of meltingly tender roasted sika deer with coconut sambal, chilli, beetroot soubise, a peppery nasturtium purée and a red wine jus, captured on one plate Jayasekara’s ability to tease flavours from ingredients and combine them into coherently delicious, strikingly beautiful food.

It's normal practice for fruits seasoned with chilli and salt to be sold on rail and bus journeys in Sri Lanka, and the diced pineapple with lemongrass sorbet, chilli flakes, coriander oil and lemon balm proved to be a brilliant homage. A sensational collection of some 1,400 bottles majors on prestige estates from Burgundy and Bordeaux with astonishing breadth and value elsewhere. Prices start at £33 and there are two dozen by the glass from £15. It’s worth noting, too, that the top floor is where you’ll find ‘possibly the most sensational private room in town’.

Opened without fanfare or PR bluster towards the back end of 2023, this slick New York Italian is the brainchild of former Soho House COO Martin Kuczmarski, a man who knows a thing or two about running restaurants. From the off, it looks absolutely fabulous, with swathes of Art Deco-inspired wood panelling, proper tablecloths and proper candlelight lending a radiant glow to proceedings. A vinyl soundtrack of 70s disco and soul keeps the good times rolling, although it never intrudes or ruins conversations across the table.

The menu is stuffed with the kind of comfort food that people just love to eat – from lobster rolls, mini hot dogs and bowls of Tuscan minestrone to textbook chopped salad and a raft of pasta classics (spaghetti with meatballs, hot penne arrabbiata etc). Burgers and ribeye steaks are present and correct too, as is ‘The Dover’ sole (suitably finessed with chilli, lime and samphire), while the beef arrosto with mash is up there with the dishes you’d find at the best trattorias in Florence. As expected, desserts hop from New York (baked cheesecake brûlée) to Italy (vanilla panna cotta with summer berries) – and if you fancy a Baileys Shakerato or an Italicus Sgroppino dessert cocktail, they’ll mix that too.

Pre-prandial sips at the bar are a must, and the wine list kicks off at around £40 a bottle, which is reasonable for this part of town. There's also no need to book if you fancy a drink and a snack at the bar out front. In short, this Mayfair hot spot offers some of the best hospitality in London right now, with a side order of irresistible food, in one of the capital’s most alluring dining rooms.

Jun Tanaka's ninth restaurant enterprise settled into the foodscape of Charlotte Street as soon as it opened, and is now off and running again, following a period of closure due to a fire. The ambience still feels cool and relaxed, with grey banquettes against roughcast brickwork, ornamental lights and mirrors, plus a few comfortable seats at the bar and another room upstairs. Clued-up staff are full of personable maturity without being overbearing, while the pace is judged to perfection. Initial flavours are as strong and multi-layered as they need to be to make a good first impression – as in snacks such as exquisite crab and seaweed tartlets, or coccoli dough balls with puréed artichokes and a great whack of black truffle. Starters from the sharing menu might feature a tempura-battered piece of red mullet with carrot/shallot escabeche and shrieking-green wild garlic aïoli (that perfect batter one of a few personal references from a chef with Japanese heritage). Otherwise, an Italian and Provençal mood prevails: mains take a simpler approach for a veal chop with morels, or whole grilled (but not especially crisp-skinned) sea bass, surrounded by an honour-guard of luscious mussels and Sicilian datterini tomatoes in red and amber shades. Finish with chopped peach poached in mulled wine with yoghurt sorbet and mint oil or a gargantuan choux au craquelin, its biscuit-coated, chocolate-based soft shell encasing a huge orb of pistachio ice cream. This is a menu yearning away from the concept of sharing dishes (how to divide a serving of monkfish, prawns and clams in broth?) but the food is bright and appealing at nearly every turn, right down to the good-value set lunch. A mostly impressive wine list needs a little more variety among dry whites by the glass, where high-acid Sauvignons, Rieslings and Verdejos rule the roost, but there are good growers throughout.

Despite its setting on the cusp of touristy Covent Garden, Stevie Parle's latest restaurant is one with serious intent. The first thing to note is the design, as shiny and seductive as the sports car in one of the glossy images on the wall: cream cord and chrome cantilever chairs, heavyweight granite ice buckets, curvy oxblood tiled columns and David Mellor cutlery evoke a retro 60s sort of chic – there’s a glamour that takes us back to the Wolseley in its heyday.

While the fun and buzzy dining room can be enjoyed on an entirely superficial level, executive chef Olly Pierrepont leads a sure-footed kitchen, with a menu driven by whole-carcass butchery and a raft of prime produce – some of it carted in from Kent by Parle himself. A strong snack game kicks off with potato sourdough which arrives with a pot of gravy – messy, slurpy, a bit bonkers but so satisfying. Butterflied day boat sea bass with an anchovy and rosemary sauce was simple but perfectly cooked main, while a curry of cod clams and mussels and gentle spices with ghee flatbread was thrilling. Morello cherry clafoutis makes for a satisfying ending.

Unstuffy service was and spot-on and we found the great-value ‘quick lunch’ (snacks plus two or three courses) is worth knowing about.. Martinis might best match the mood but there’s also an accessible line up of modern alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks and a wine list that opens at £38 a bottle.