17 of the best restaurants for solo diners
Published 04 February 2026

Next door to elder sibling the Little Chartroom, this all-day venue is the McCarrons' first foray into casual eating. The compact café, wine bar and bottle shop is open all day, offering a flexible menu that deals in everything from full breakfasts (with very good coffee) to brunchy kedgeree fritters with curry mayo and cured egg yolk or BBQ flatbread with ox tongue and romesco – though with the likes of crispy squid bun with mushroom XO and baby gem also on offer, it’s possible to assemble a three-course dinner from the various options. The bottle shop’s range is included in the wine list (add corkage to the shelf price), or you can sip local beers and cocktails.

The mood is casual and the decor pared-back at Swedish-born chef Tomas Eriksson’s hard-working Broadstairs asset. Ingo is a tiny neighbourhood spot and then some, with enthusiastic locals and tourists cramming the kitchen/bar stools (reserved for walk-ins) and a handful of close-packed tables (bookable). The attraction is a blackboard menu of well-wrought Spanish and Mediterranean-style cooking shot through with honesty and integrity.

Cantabrian anchovies with olive oil, jamón croquetas, baked salt-cod brandade, and smoked prawns are the stock in trade, but it’s the exemplary small sharing plates with their emphatic no-nonsense flavours that keep the crowds returning. Highlights of our meal were a serving of cured trout with lemon crème fraîche and pickled cucumbers, a vivid dish of piquillo peppers stuffed with rich, tender braised beef cheek, and chicken schnitzel topped with curry mayo and pickles.

To round things off, go for the salted chocolate mousse with olive oil or a plate of Manchego cheese with truffle honey. As for drinks, you could start with a cocktail or look to the short list of affordable wines (priced between £30 and £46), with everything available by the glass (from £7). Charming service seals the deal. 

This spot-on take on the classic tapas bar is authentically, some say irritatingly, reservation-free – unlike Barrafina's other branches in the capital (Adelaide Street, Drury Lane, Borough Yards and King’s Cross). Inside, just 28 high stools are lined up along the length of the L-shaped kitchen counter to accommodate diners (there are some pavement tables too). The attraction is not only the lively, informal vibe but also the theatre of dishes cooked in front of you – a line-up of top-drawer tapas rendered as simply as possible. Freshness is the key (especially when it comes to seafood) and you can sample the results by ordering from the standard placemat menu: made-to-order mini tortillas, croquetas, chipirones, gambas rojos, pluma Ibérico with confit potatoes. Even better is the little specials board, a daily changing roster of more creative dishes along the lines of fresh grilled mackerel slathered in a bright, garlicky chimichurri sauce or a plate of lamb's sweetbreads with fresh peas, cooked in a richly lip-smacking sauce that we found especially impressive. Crema catalana and Santiago tart are the never-off-the-menu desserts. Spanish regional wines by the glass, carafe or bottle match the food perfectly, likewise a big choice of sherries – including the Hart brothers’ own-brand manzanilla.

A ‘very reliable’ Mayfair fixture since 1916, the self-titled ‘grand dame of Swallow Street’ is still shucking oysters with a vengeance under the stewardship of chef/patron Richard Corrigan. These days, regulars agree that its two great assets are the ground-floor Oyster Bar and the spacious gem of a terrace on Swallow Street itself (heated and covered for year-round bonhomie).

If you’re indoors, the best seats are indubitably at the marble-topped bar counter, where you can watch the chefs expertly flashing their thick-bladed oyster knives and doing the business on ‘natives’ and ‘rocks’ from places as far apart as Donegal, Oban and Jersey – although one fan reckons the Pembrokeshire specimens deserve a special mention. Otherwise, squeeze into one of the close-packed tables for a more formal and ‘extremely fresh’ piscine blowout – perhaps scallop ceviche dressed with jalapeño, mint and lime ahead of Dover sole meunière or pan-seared turbot with olive-oil mash and langoustine sauce.

Readers have praised the impeccable Cornish fish stew packed with myriad different species in a tomato and saffron broth, although you can also feast on classics such as fish and chips, fish pie and Bentley’s handsome shellfish platters. Pudding might be crème caramel with Armagnac-soaked prunes or a bitter chocolate mousse embellished with cherries, gold leaf and amaretto. The classy fish-friendly wine list is priced for Mayfair’s big spenders, although it does offer some excellent bargains by the glass.

It’s easy to walk past Bibi. One’s eye tends to be drawn to North Audley Street’s flashier inhabitants, such as The Ivy Asia or Roka. But this bijou space, which combines the look of a luxurious railway dining car with a private members-only club feel, is by far the more interesting option – its sociable vibe, warm service and small-plate Indian cooking seducing most who cross its threshold.

Chet Sharma's modern Anglo-Indian cuisine fuses different culinary influences from across the Subcontinent with the absolute best of British produce. His delicate blend of spices, the unique tangy, sour notes, the subtle hint of heat that lingers gently on the palate, the extra layers of taste and texture, translate into creative small plates such as the never-off-the-menu interpretations of nimbu pani or the signature Sharmaji’s Lahori chicken, all carried off with the same sure touch and stunning presentation.

The best seats are the comfortable counter stools that grandstand the long, narrow kitchen, though there are some black-leather booths along the opposite wall. It's pricey (the five-course lunch taster is a good introduction). But limber up with a cocktail, lean into the warmth of the service and the extremely well-chosen (if expensive) wines, and this is a great option for an unstuffy celebratory meal.

Brett successfully pulls off that tricky balance of delivering high-class and complex cooking within a buzzy neighbourhood atmosphere. Exposed stonework and monochrome decor provide an unfussy backdrop for closely packed tables and counter seating, where diners might appreciate the 'interactions with the chefs whose enthusiasm is infectious'.  Front of house is warm and casual, while table settings are equally laid-back – raw linen napkins providing a cheeky decorative nod to Glasgow iconography. 

Under executive chef Colin Anderson, the offer has evolved from a ‘naturally’ inclined wine bar with small plates to a focused à la carte restaurant – although drinks and nibbles remain a popular pavement option on sunny days. Menus showcase seasonality and localism, plus a passion for cooking over fire in the open galley kitchen. Snacks such as a Basque-inspired gilda (skewered olives, anchovies and spicy pickled pepper) on a chicken-fat croûton or flame-scorched barbecued lamb breast with Scotch bonnet and aubergine miso prepare the palate – perhaps with an extended skin-contact orange wine as an aperitif. 

Starters might include a rich but not cloying mushroom XO linguine with Cantabrian anchovies and aged Parmesan topped with crispy leek 'angel-hair'. A standout main of stuffed chicken 'hind' and Orkney scallop served ballotine style and finished with morel purée and a consommé of chicken bone and scallop exemplifies the kitchen's culinary craft. The small dessert selection could include a golden mango and Flor de Caña brûlée with crispy milk skin and pulled toffee, which is imaginative and suitably grown-up. 

Quality cooking and ingredients don’t come cheap, even in a neighbourhood setting, and three courses can easily hit £75 without drinks. This makes the two-course lunchtime option for £32 particularly tempting. Distinctive house cocktails and some interesting rotating wines by the glass are supported by an extensive bottled list ranging from £29 for the house options to north of £300 for some fancy Burgundies.

Mixing a come-as-you-please vibe with upbeat cooking, loud music, a sense of fun and unquestionable value (note the £5 Negronis and spritzes) – the late Russell Norman’s formula for a good restaurant was always guaranteed to win over the local populace. Now run by Monique Sierra, Brutto is as popular as ever, with the checked tablecloths, Chianti bottles and typewritten menu (in Italian and English) summoning up the spirit of a traditional Florentine trattoria.

There is much to applaud here. A plate of anchovies with cold butter curls and St John sourdough is a good starting point, and we are big fans of the pork tonnato with caperberries. Elsewhere, there’s exemplary pasta (perhaps pappardelle with rabbit and lemon or maltagliati with oxtail ragù), plus a punchy, fall-apart beef shin and peppercorn stew, and an 800g Florentine T-bone steak that was shared by three contented diners and pronounced ‘fantastic’ – even the house red they washed it down with ‘was more than acceptable’. Brutto's roast potatoes are also 'something special', too. 

Desserts are no slouch either. We can recommend the tiramisu, but it's also worth looking out for the panna cotta with English strawberries or poached apricots with aged Parmesan. The young front-of-house team is superbly drilled, and there’s an attractive list of mainly (but not exclusively) Tuscan and other Italian wines.

Cantina Caruso is Margate’s typically cool answer to the problem of where to eat if you have no reservation. An Italian deli by day, it transforms at weekends into a walk-in wine bar with a brief menu of small(ish) plates. Despite being next door to alma mater Bottega Caruso, it has the tucked-away feel of a hidden gem – rustic and atmospheric, with charming staff who are clearly proud of the food and wine they serve. Much depends on sourcing, and Simona Di Dio and Harry Ryder have an enviable reputation for garnering faultless raw materials. Pop in for a glass of Nerocapitano (a Sicilian chilled red) and you could be tempted to add some Sardinian pickles and a plate or two of simple, affordable Italian classics. It’s the kind of unfiddly, big-flavoured food that we all like to eat, seen at its proudest in a dish of local squid and peas or the extraordinary aubergine parmigiana. No wonder Cantina is an all-year-round local hit.

It's easy to see why this laid-back neighbourhood diner in the heart of Stokes Croft attracts such a loyal following. Blending classy, seasonal cooking from chef Matty Groves (formerly of Bath’s Menu Gordon Jones) with a friendly, relaxed atmosphere in unpretentious surroundings, a meal here is a reliably good night out. And it may take the whole night – service is never less than charming,  but it can be slow at times. A recent reconfiguration has seen the kitchen move downstairs, allowing space for a chef’s table private-dining experience. The ground-floor dining room now feels a little lighter and brighter, though not much has changed about the shabby-chic, dark blue and white decor, save for a lick of white paint.

Menu-wise, it’s worth ruining your appetite by dipping into the snack section, perhaps for a home-baked toasted crumpet topped with gooey Cheddar emulsion and a tangle of piquant onion. Follow on with, say, a starter of warm crab and crayfish butter with fresh herbs and house bread. Mains could be a classic French onglet with peppercorn sauce, frites and Strode valley salad or a beautifully executed plate of hand-rolled tagliatelle with girolles and toasted pine nuts bathed in a rich Parmesan and butter sauce that would make any nonna smile. Portions are generous, but do save space for the regularly changing homemade ice creams and sorbets. Fixed-price lunches are a steal.

The drinks list offers cocktails, local ciders and ales, but wine is a strength here, so you can rely on decent-value house selections or take the opportunity to try out something new. The owners also run Carmen Street Wine (a bottle shop and wine bar) just round the corner. 

Chef Ben Harrison spent his formative years with Marco Pierre White, and went on to cultivate his own style while working in private service, away from the glare of the UK food scene. Now he is cooking in Cornwall, offering diners a relaxed small-plates experience that marries Basque-inspired cuisine with modern British ways – a dynamic reflection of seasonal produce and his own creative flair. 

Counter Culture is deliberately informal: the room is stripped back, rustic and split in two, with a bar on one side serving mostly organic and orange wines as well as organic real ales from nearby Atlantic Brewery. On the other side is a small dining room, looking onto the kitchen pass – with further seating outside, on the street.

Expect a playful and inventive approach to familiar ingredients, with the focus on bold, clean flavours presented with understated elegance. Exquisitely prepared pintxos might feature delightfully tangy Cornish rarebit and mushroom duxelles or equally robust cured trout – caught just along the coast at Boscastle – on a sourdough base with a zesty apple salsa and a dollop of caviar. Effortlessly executed ray wing with samphire, rainbow chard and brown butter pointed up with pickled wild garlic buds further showcases the freshness of local seafood. As for meat, a dish of beef shin, mash and Aral Farm spinach is given depth and deliciousness with the addition of anchovy brown-butter sauce, while plump lamb faggots are elevated with turnips, girolles and a pungent devilled sauce. Desserts are real crowd-pleasers, too – be sure to leave space for an outstanding Basque cheesecake. 

With Newquay going through something of a renaissance at the moment, Counter Culture is a vibrant tribute to the town's evolving restaurant landscape, all driven by a chef with a rich and varied background.

Diners are spoilt for choice along Cambridge’s food-rich Mill Road, but if you’re in the mood for fish, Fin Boys is the address to know. Its purpose is clear: to buy seasonal seafood from sustainable sources, and deploy it for ever-changing menus with care, flair (often inspired by Japan) and minimal waste. There’s also chef-chat if you choose the counter seating, and plenty of people-watching from the bright window seats.

The kitchen's take on prawn toast involving fried milk bread layered generously with chopped prawns, oyster sauce and furikake (for seaweed-sesame savouriness) has a deserved fan club – although bouncy hot crumpets, loaded richly with crab cacio e pepe, are a deliciously substantial alternative (especially when paired with an Old Vines Chenin Blanc blend from South Africa's Mullineux Winery that features on the fish-friendly drinks list).

Follow, perhaps, with bluefin tuna, dry-aged on-site to perfect firmness, in a puddle of blood-orange ponzu, where the flavours surf vigorously through deep umami, citrus-sweetness and lip-tingling togarashi chilli-heat, before a spoonful of labneh calms everything down. There's also beautiful balance in a bowl of creamy sushi rice with diced poached squid, agretti and angel-hair nori, with puffed rice for texture and squid-seaweed broth as an anchor.

Among the bigger plates, line-caught Cornish monkfish might come with cauliflower purée and sea beets in midwinter, or make a summer outing alongside zucchini (from nearby Flourish Farm) with shiitake and kelp XO sauce. If you're after fishy comfort food, you might get lucky with clam risotto, a classic fish soup with garlicky rouille and plenty of Gruyère or rigatoni with a velvet-crab sauce. Finish with the enduringly popular Basque cheesecake or a simple affogato involving locally made Jack’s Gelato.

A block or two from Piccadilly Gardens, Higher Ground is run by a triumvirate who met while working at Blue Hill at Stone Barns in Pocantico Hills in New York State. They have now rocked up at the corner of an office building in, naturally, New York Street, to bring up-to-the-minute bistro food to a vanguard gastronomic city. Much of what comes into the kitchen is supplied by their own farm Cinderwood, a market garden smallholding in Cheshire, and its vivid intensities of flavour inspire chefs and diners alike. Eaten in a bright, spacious airport-style space, with counter seating as well as tables, the result is dishes that you will want to share, rather than merely being told that you have to. Green pea and spring garlic fritters enriched with Isle of Mull Cheddar won't touch the sides, and there are pedigree cured meats such as 12-month air-dried culatello or the cannily sourced salami taormina from Curing Rebels of Brighton. Fish cookery is of the first water: Scottish turbot with grilled lettuce, spring onions and basil is perfect with a side order of waxy Marfona potatoes dressed in roasted yeast and smoked butter. Desserts are, surprisingly, of a more delicate persuasion than puds and cheesecake. Try house-cultured yoghurt with preserved gooseberry and bay leaf, or milk ice cream given a little fairground pizzazz with chocolate malt fudge. Speciality bottled ales from the English regions are a plus point, and wine-drinkers can be sure their tipple will have been left to its own devices as far as possible, turning burnt orange for Ardèche Marsanne or abashed pink for Sicilian rosato. House fizz is a Crémant de Limoux.

If you want to gain access to Ben Chapman’s smoking-hot Soho homage to Thai regional cuisine (and much more besides), you have two choices: assemble a group of four friends (or more) and book a table in the basement dining room, where you can have a loud, noisy BBQ party, indoors; alternatively, go on spec, play the waiting game and queue outside for a slot at the stainless steel ground-floor counter (simply add your name and number to the list and grab a drink nearby until you are called). The pay-off is masterful cooking inspired and influenced by those regions where northern Thailand borders Myanmar, Laos and China's Yunnan province, but supplemented by regular supplies of British seasonal produce (notably day-boat fish and rare-breed meat). Intense, blisteringly hot dishes from the charcoal grill line up alongside slow-cooked claypots imbued with deep, dark, pungent flavours. On the one hand, that might mean skewers of aged ‘cull yaw’ mutton spiced with cumin or pounded hake with karashina (giant Japanese mustard leaves); on the other, perhaps monkfish liver curry with harlequin squash or the now-famous, sticky-rich baked glass noodles with specially reared Tamworth pork and brown crabmeat. Also, don’t forget to order some stir-fried Cornish greens and a bowl of brown jasmine rice on the side. ‘Sharing beers’, ferments and cocktails made with kitchen ingredients flow freely, but don't ignore Kiln's eclectic wine list – a short, intelligently chosen line-up that matches the spicy demands of the food.

The Radford family’s follow-up to their Edinburgh flagship Timberyard shares its traits as a singularly stylish and occasionally esoteric place to eat. Perched at the top of Montrose Terrace, an all-white paint job had erased signs of its past life as a pansies-in-the-window pub and sets the tone for minimalist interiors, neutral tones and natural textures.

There are two ways to enjoy Montrose. On the ground floor, a warmly lit wine bar attracts an all-day crowd who come for the roster of light plates (sardines on toast, say) and the magnificent drinks list – a well of creativity, curated by Anna Sebelova and shared with Timberyard. Vermouths, liqueurs and bitters are all made in-house, while softs such as hibiscus and wormwood kombucha or the unusual savoury notes of Koseret tea keep things interesting for the abstainers.

Upstairs, chef Moray Lamb’s cooking gets a little more serious with a set menu of four courses (plus canapés and petits fours) for around £80. The atmosphere is more serious too, with space for just 15 diners, tables dressed in unbleached linens and light coming mostly from the dim glow of pillar candles – although a two-hour time allocation on tables puts Montrose at odds with its tasting menu compatriots elsewhere in the city.

Our winter visit began with a duo of superlative snacks (a delicate smoked eel doughnut, and a bite of choux au craquelin filled with Gubbeen cheese), while an opener of Shetland squid in a tangle of noodle-like strips felt more technically interesting than lovably delicious. A beautifully wobbly veal sweetbread blanketed in a silky Jerusalem artichoke sauce suffered from a hint of over-seasoning, but nothing could trump the triumphant savoury finale – pink-fleshed sika deer with sophisticated accompaniments including celeriac, pine and juniper.

The wine list is also a triumph – an oenophile’s tour of English and European viticulture, with the emphasis on organic and natural production. Choices by the glass are many and varied, but also look for bottles highlighted in ‘orange’. Overall, we found the service to be informed and amiable, if a little softly spoken at times. Our advice: save the moody refinement of the restaurant for an intimate occasion and revel in the buzzy fun of the wine bar as frequently as possible.

One of the ‘coolest’ places to move to in 2025 (according to The Times), Newnham’s recently elevated reputation rests more than a little on the opening of this fantastic boutique bistro and bottle shop. Beautifully restored from its previous incarnation as a Post Office, the formerly derelict building remains artfully distressed – think bare plaster ceilings and rough wooden floors – yet very stylish. Owners Ben Thompson and Florence de Maré are both successful designers, and it shows. Head chef Fred Page, most recently of Marle at Heckfield Place, commands the room from behind a high-top counter surrounding his open kitchen. You can sit at that counter, or at a scattering of tables around the room – there are no bad spots here. 

Likewise, there are no bad choices on Page’s weekly changing menus, which show a deep love and respect for the abundant local produce in this overlooked corner of Gloucestershire – some of which comes from the owners’ nearby smallholding. Everything is made in-house, from the cordial in your rhubarb Bellini to the unbelievably crispy olive oil-soaked spelt rolls, and Page’s small plates tease out the very best from his chosen ingredients. Feast on a snack-sized, oozingly rich pig’s head croquette with a tart, tarragon-infused sauce ravigote, a plate of perfectly executed, lemon-scented chard and ricotta ravioli, or a hearty bowl of zarzuela with monkfish, octopus and cockles. If you can resist a hunk of local cheese with homemade chutney and bara brith, pudding could be strawberry and elderflower meringue. Excellent-value lunchtime deals are also available. 

Wines by the 175ml glass or 375ml carafe are chalked on a blackboard, or you can choose something special from the additional 'premium' list. This is, of course, a bottle shop, so there’s plenty more choice on the shelves behind you. Delightfully warm, personal service makes you feel like an old friend – or, at least, a very welcome new one. 

Next door to the Quality Chop House, Quality Wines is a purveyor of good drinking, with a wine bar/restaurant added to its offer five days a week (Tue-Sat, lunch and dinner). Bentwood chairs, candles in wine bottles, and a central marble table do not disguise the fact that one is eating in an emporium – but that’s no criticism (unless the single basic loo bothers you). The atmosphere is convivial and the seasoned waiters greet many of the customers like old friends. Nick Bramham cooks with confidence. One has to applaud the sheer excess of a glossy bun rammed with fried octopus, pommes allumettes and more aïoli (whatever a cardiologist might have to say), while boiled Swiss chard with Cretan sheep's cheese and pine nuts is impressively restrained. Risotto primavera with asparagus, peas and courgettes, plus some oil and a few twists of pepper is Italian for comme il faut. For dessert, don’t miss the stunning pig-fat cannolo. The blackboard menu changes weekly but there’ll always be gildas, charcuterie and focaccia to nibble on while mulling the wine list. Selections by the glass change daily and bottles from the shelves can be purchased to drink in (expect to pay corkage). To give some idea of the range: a random sample might include Czech Riesling, a classic Loire Chenin, and a Sussex Pinot. 

Almost two decades old, this offshoot of the original St John (housed in a former bank opposite Old Spitalfields Market) still retains something of that functional look – although the interior (close-packed wooden tables, whitewashed walls) now comes with bottles of wine, loaves of bread and blackboards by way of decoration. It’s the clatter and chatter of diners that lends the room its warm ambience. Menus, updated daily, speak to Britain’s historic foodways but feel fresh and modern. What you read is what you get: ‘Eccles cake and Lancashire cheese’; ‘smoked haddock, saffron and mash’; ‘boiled ham, carrots, and parsley sauce’; even ‘mushy courgettes’. It adheres to the nose-to-tail gospel of St John’s Fergus Henderson, so also expect heart, liver, kidneys and tails, alongside seasonal salads (cauliflower, leek and chickpeas) and vegetable dishes such as bobby beans with roast shallots and mustard. It’s rather fun to become reacquainted with specialities last seen in the Winnie the Pooh cookbook: jelly, prunes, sprats and anchovy toast, for example. Bread and wine, as the name suggests, are a focus. You can buy both to go, or you can sit down with a bottle from the all-French list which includes St John’s own-label Crémant de Limoux, Mâcon-Villages and claret.