18 of our favourite Good Food Guide perks for January
Published 22 January 2025

In a foodie courtyard behind Dalston Junction, the inviting smell of burning embers and charring now mingles with the aromas of hops and freshly baked loaves. Those embers are from Acme Fire Cult – a low-budget, eco-conscious eatery devoted to fire-fuelled cooking, with plenty of noise and loud music adding to the vibe and more than half the tables outside, under cover and close to the smoky action. But this isn’t just another dude-food BBQ joint: here, vegetables are elevated to a starring role, with rare-breed meats and day-boat fish providing the support acts. There’s also much use of micro-seasonal ferments and by-products from the 40FT Brewery next door – Acme even makes its own version of Marmite from leftover yeast.

The menu is a globe-straddling line-up of unorthodox but exciting modern dishes: coal-roasted leeks with pistachio and romesco are a favourite with readers (‘salty, sweet, delicious and utterly incredible’), likewise tomatoes with green goddess and sorrel. As meat and fish are introduced, you might find chunks of lamb makhani meatballs (a homely dish with ‘subtly balanced spices’) a Tamworth pork chop with mojo rojo or whole gilthead bream slathered with guanjillo chill butter. For afters, there’s usually a choice of two seasonal offerings, perhaps saffron and honey-poached pear with sesame and vanilla yoghurt.

Saturday means brunch, while on Sundays everyone piles in for the sharing platters of grilled and smoked meats piled high on dripping toast (‘it’s the only place where I’d happily be outdoor for my roast,’ commented one fan). To drink, mezcal margaritas fly out of the bar, seven taps dispense brews from 40FT and the concise wine list is a knowledgeable, well-researched slate.

* Desai is launching a 10-seater chef's table (aka Hrishi's Table), which will serve a 16-course taster utilising produce from Farlam Hall's kitchen garden alongside matching wines. *

Built of Lakeland stone and with architectural roots dating back to the 15th century, Farlam Hall’s fortunes were once closely entwined with the Cumbrian coal-mining industry. It's a country house on the human scale, with gardens to wander in and bright interiors that owe nothing to sickly chintz, while the Cedar Tree restaurant puts Farlam in the first rank of regional cooking in the UK. Hrishikesh Desai, formerly at The Gilpin, Windermere, is an accomplished and energetically inventive chef brimming with smart ideas. Appetisers include fragile tartlets of peanut and coriander tartare with cauliflower and coconut foam – a whole world of flavours in a mouthful. Desai’s gastronomic signature is the artful incorporation of Indian nuances and seasonings into contemporary western cooking: a serving of red and golden beetroot fresh from the garden, for example, comes with thick, chilled beetroot rasam (a South Indian soup) as well as apple and ginger chutney and coconut bavarois. Dishes often match great flavour impact with astonishing delicacy of technique: a piece of salmon is very slowly poached, and then supported by salmon rillettes and a gently herbed and spiced garden gazpacho, while cured hake in a subliminally light batter comes with roasted pineapple topped with lemon mayo and caviar for a wondrous combination. That sense of travelling around the plate, encountering new surprises at every turn, also illuminates a main course of salt-aged Creedy Carver duck breast with a sweet-sharp blackcurrant sauce, the braised leg, pressed duck and hazelnut terrine and, on the side, a samosa containing layered shaved celeriac, topped with a little Parmesan and truffle. It takes formidable ingenuity and poise to bring so many elements together without creating a culinary brawl, but Desai is a skilled conductor. A délice of strong Valrhona chocolate with spiced orange panna cotta and milk sorbet, or perhaps a golden raspberry soufflé with matching coulis and toasted pistachio ice cream, are the kinds of desserts that hit the sweet spot for most of us. Despite the monotonous pop muzak piped provokingly into the dining room, which views over garden and lake do their best to nullify, it's a gorgeous experience. A varietally arranged wine list with garrulous tasting descriptions suits the country-house mood. Glasses (from £7.50) are a trifle dull, almost as though they are tiptoeing round the food rather than squaring up to meet it head-on. Braver selections would round out the offer.

'One of those old-school places where everything is just done right; a proper treat,’ was one reader’s verdict on Richard Corrigan’s ‘brilliant’ Mayfair flagship. Culinary aspirations are sky-high but the kitchen keeps its feet firmly on the earth, offering everything from a classic opener such as roast veal sweetbread with langoustine, peas and soda bread crumb to a pie of poulet de bresse chicken, morels and artichokes that has been deemed ‘historically good’. Furred and feathered game is always a feature in season, while Irish beef is a solid mainstay throughout the year. Influences from the chef’s native Ireland are melded with foraged foods and tip-top supplies from artisan producers, while a sense of clubby nostalgia permeates the place, ‘complemented by staff who clearly like to see guests having a good time.’ Lunch and dinner ‘du jour’ menus are devoid of any sense of corner-cutting, especially when the finish line is reached via a spring fruit salad or Eve’s pudding with apple and rhubarb. The wine list is vast and authoritative, opening with a changing seasonal selection and including a classy by-the-glass selection.

Located in the basement of Drakes Hotel, this neutrally attired dining room does the job without stirring high emotions – though the soundtrack might well push the limits of those not revived by memories of holidays in Ibiza. That said, readers concur that Dilsk is one of Brighton's foremost dining experiences. Tom Stephens has a CV packed with high-profile mentors, including Tom Kerridge and Simon Rogan, and delivers his version of modern British dining via a trio of menus – a three-course lunch (a great entry point), and a six- or ten-course taster.

The full repertoire kicks off with snacks, the pick being a smoked mackerel pâté with perry jelly and a squid-ink tuile. Next up, the signature lightly poached oyster with trout roe, pickled radish and a custard of dilsk (another name for dulse, the slippery red seaweed) – a dish that positively dazzles with colour and maritime flavours. Bread is a course in itself: a laminated brioche/croissant hybrid with a rich, potent butter, garlic and crispy black cabbage.

This is food in which sauces play off against impressive core ingredients sourced from the local area: a turnip dashi creation is a joyous umami hit when served with smoked eel and Brighton salami; a combo of squash, caviar and bone marrow elevates a piece of BBQ monkfish; and caramelised cream with ceps and truffle (the accompaniment to pink partridge breast) is simply ‘divine’.

Three dessert courses come with the full menu, the standout being a confection involving 71% Nicaraguan chocolate and rapeseed oil smoked over Earl Grey tea and barley miso – complex, comforting and delicious. Service is informed, dedicated and unobtrusive. The wine list is arranged by style, with some organic offerings but slim pickings under £35 a bottle.

Above Carlyon Bay, at one end of a parade of shops and cafés behind an area of off-road parking, there is more culinary glamour to Edie's than might first appear. Co-owner and chef Nigel Brown has done stints at Le Manoir aux Quat'Saisons and at the late Bill Granger's Sydney restaurant. Inside, the place feels like a true neighbourhood spot, not least because it is run with such sympathetic charm.

Contemporary brasserie cooking is the name of the game, with a good-value fixed-price menu supplementing an appreciably adventurous carte. First off might be a dazzling salad of Isle of Wight tomatoes with pickled shallots, pangrattato, whipped feta and basil oil, an energising blaze of colour. Much is made of the starter soufflés, perhaps Comté cheese with spinach and wild mushroom fricassée. Soft gnudi make a satisfying lunchtime main, accompanied by a riot of spring veg in lemon butter with crumbled sourdough croûtes adding crunch, while fish dishes are all you might expect for the location – maybe halibut with brown shrimps and saffron potatoes in curry sauce. Fillet steaks with hand-cut chips, watercress and Café de Paris butter will be a dead cert for a large proportion of the clientele.

Finish with elderflower panna cotta, yoghurt sorbet and lemon curd or – if you missed its savoury cousin earlier on – a raspberry soufflé with rum anglaise and vanilla ice cream. The short, helpfully annotated wine list has reasonable mark-ups, with glasses from £5.25.

Veer off the Portree to Dunvegan road in northern Skye to find the leafy little hamlet of Edinbane and what was, until 2017, a derelict 16th-century hunting lodge on a shaded riverbank. Converted into a restaurant with rooms by a young local chef, it is now one of the most talked-about kitchens on the island. The decor is traditional, cosy but understated design-wise, ranging from low-beamed ceilings, dark wood panelling and teal paintwork to tartan carpeting in muted hues and chocolate-brown leather chairs. The background music steers a similarly safe course, a medley for the middle-aged. The interiors might not make your pulse race, but the menu will. Immediately attention-grabbing is Calum Montgomery's focus on provenance. A separate sheet accompanying the 10-course taster lists the fishermen, foragers and crofters by name, many of whom are friends and family: Calum’s uncle Alasdair caught the hake and monkfish, while his cousin Peter MacAskill harvested the rope-grown mussels (served barbecued and topped with a silky potato mousse). The distance from producer to plate is noted too, with the wagyu beef from Perthshire the biggest schlep (198 miles). At our test meal, this arrived with truffle and red wine jus, plus a solitary chip-shaped, satisfyingly crunchy roast potato and carrot (puréed and pickled). Equally impressive was a giant scallop, hand-dived and plucked from the waters off the small island of Rona, meaty and tender, served on a smoky seaweed butter sauce laced with diced cucumber. An unexpected highlight was the bread course. The warm, steamed brioche with its sprinkling of crispy ham and chives was soft and moreish, smeared with an unctuous wild black-garlic butter, the herb gleaned from the lodge's grounds. Another wild picking, meadowsweet, features in the pre-dessert ice cream and is also one of the botanicals in the house gin, made by a local distillery. Even the 'handcrafted' tonic water, (from Walter Gregor in Aberdeenshire) has well-documented provenance. There's a wine flight matched to the tasting menu, of course, while the carefully curated list focuses on the Old World with nine by the glass – although the signature cocktails and local beers (try the Cuillin Brewery's Seaweed IPA) are every bit as noteworthy.

Llansteffan sits on the blue-green Tywi estuary, its ascending streets of pretty houses topped by a magnificent castle. Set at the upper end of the village, close to the church, the Inn at the Sticks covers many bases: bedrooms and a deli/wine bar in addition to the main pub/restaurant space. The setting is rustic in a stylish, uncluttered way, with quarry tiles and wood floors, exposed beams, brickwork and a couple of chunky wood burners.

‘Welsh sharing plates’ describes the menu (expect beef, lamb, cockles, faggots and excellent cheeses), although you might also encounter Asian sticky pork with pak choi, sesame seeds and crispy noodles, or sweet, gleaming Vichy carrots teamed with the breezy, lemony freshness of whipped feta and topped with almond and chilli crumb, basil gel and a drizzle of honey.

Astonishing flavours, colour and verve take this place far beyond normal pub fare although it never stints on the classics. The beef, beer and Perl Las blue cheese pie is on-point in every department, delivering a bounty of big, tender chunks of meat, a deep and dark savoury gravy, and a perfectly risen puff-pastry top. Other standout dishes include cockle popcorn – light-as-air batter, with a drizzle of homemade chilli vinegar and a punchy little pot of aïoli for dipping.

The bar stays high for desserts ranging from a beguilingly soft and gooey 'bara brith' sticky toffee pudding set on a butterscotch and tea sauce to a Welsh coffee panna cotta sporting a candied walnut crumb and a sleek caramel sauce. To drink, there’s an excellent choice of wines as well as beers.

Simon Rogan was awarded an MBE in the New Year Honours List at the end of 2023, which is some measure of the influence he has had on contemporary British dining. The nerve centre of the whole operation is still here, in a stone-built former smithy on a Cartmel road-bend, not far from its sibling Rogan & Co. The ambience has lost none of its rusticity, from the roughcast whitewashed walls and raftered ceilings to the anvil after which the place is named. The light, airy conservatory makes a fine spot for lunch. Smartly clad staff oversee a welcoming – and supremely professional – approach to hospitality, and the food does the rest. The kitchen mobilises a battalion of unexpected ingredients in surprising – even stunning – combinations, with textural notes to the fore as well as a clear focus on sustainability and regionalism. Among the appetisers is a fritter of Duroc pork and smoked eel on lovage emulsion with sweetcorn purée, an unimaginably delicious composition of flavours. There is also a pudding of Berkswell cheese coated in caramelised birch sap, tapped from a tree just a couple of miles away. A succession of plated dishes might include tiny pink fir potatoes cooked in chicken fat with pickled walnuts and an oil of burnt onion ash, while one of L'Enclume's signatures is the seaweed custard in beef broth and bone marrow, garnished with a house blend of caviar and Maldon oyster. Various vegetable-based specialties are always part of the menu, their seasonal freshness offset with powerful herbs and seasonings. As for animal protein, a pairing of John Dory and cuttlefish in pork fat with shrimp sauce, spinach and verbena might precede an outstanding dish of dry-aged Middle White pork in mead sauce with black garlic purée and pickled allium seeds, plus a pork-fat crumpet sitting on a hot stone to keep it warm. Textures go haywire in a serving of frozen Tunworth cheese topped with puffed buckwheat, lemon thyme crystals and gel, on a compôte of Champagne rhubarb. After strawberries and sweet cicely cream served in a ceramic pouch, followed by a miso-caramel mousse with apple (another L’Enclume signature), we concluded with an array of superlative petits fours – including a cornet of peach-stone ice cream with elderflower and white-chocolate ganache, and a tiny caramelised pear tart with a spot of herb oil. Wines by the glass are presented on an iPad, which you may want to keep by you as the menu progresses, but it's best to let the wine flights themselves take wing on a cosmopolitan journey around the globe.

Any restaurant located on Mayfair's Mount Street must bring expectations of high prices and a certain well-groomed charm. Mount St doesn't disappoint on either count. There’s a classy subtlety to this dining room located above the Audley Public House. Large windows let natural light flood in and every inch of the walls is covered in art, courtesy of Artfarm (the hospitality arm of the modern gallery group Hauser & Wirth) which is behind the redevelopment of the whole building. It makes for a voguishly svelte (and welcome) package – open for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Given the fact that it received the seal of approval from the King and Queen when they dined here late in 2022, coupled with the cult status of its eye-wateringly priced lobster pie for two, it's no surprise that booking is essential. The menu follows both the classic school (oysters, caviar, omelette Arnold Bennett, Portland crab with brown crab mayonnaise) and more contemporary themes (a pairing of Orkney scallops with a smooth smoked eel sauce and slivers of raw apple adding some texture). Stick with fish and you might be rewarded by Dover sole with brown butter hollandaise, but meats are also allowed to shine – as in a gutsy dish of perfectly timed West Country lamb chops teamed with some slow-cooked belly. Finish up with a banana soufflé plus rum and raisin ice cream and salted caramel or a gloriously old-fashioned savoury, perhaps Gentleman’s Relish on toast with cucumber. The wide-ranging wine list, strongest in France and Italy, is predictably pricey.

One could easily walk past Origin Social thinking it was just another café/bar on an anonymous strip with views of passing traffic and a Kwik Fit garage – in fact it is rather exceptional. With its long bar, substantial wine and cocktail list and a changing roster of local ales from the likes of Brew York, the Kirkstall Brewery and Knaresborough’s Turning Point Brew Co, it does feel more like a pub than restaurant but the food for such an unassuming place is surprising.

A parade of globally inspired small plates brings imaginative and thoughtfully cooked dishes along the lines of king scallops served on the shell in a buttery, lime and 'nduja dressing, or roast watermelon with feta, walnut and pickled shallots dressed with balsamic and honey. The menu is divided into 'sea', 'meat' and 'vegetables', with a fair selection of vegan and gluten-free options including, say, BBQ tenderstem broccoli with tahini dressing, pomegranate, pistachio and dukkah.

'Three plates for £20' is the best-selling deal, although we opted to splash out on some pricier items including baked salmon and Shetland mussels in a Thai green curry sauce (the salmon itself, accurately cooked, would have been generous enough to stand as a main course on its own). Equally well judged was the Mexican-spiced Scotch egg with a perfectly timed soft yolk wrapped in good-quality sausagemeat on a spicy barbecue sauce. Origin certainly lives up to its 'Social' tag and it's great fun, thanks to some remarkable talent in the kitchen, terrific value and knowledgeable service from a young team.

With its altar-like, meat-ageing cabinet and a blackboard listing premium cuts, Porter & Rye reveres the ‘cow as king’ and customers duly pay homage. Inside, it's small with mezzanines maximising the tables, although judicious use of glass and subtle lighting achieves an overall effect that is more cosy than cramped. The informal welcome from easy-going but competent staff further fuels that laid-back feel. Stools for bar and counter dining – plus a grazing menu for those on the hoof – add capacity at busy times.

The menu offers small plates, big plates, cuts and big cuts, plus a token vegetarian option, game and seafood, although everyone is here for the beef – impeccably sourced, lovingly aged and carefully prepared. Carpaccio is moistened with truffled goat's milk and gets a satisfyingly salty hit from shredded pecorino. Delicate veal sweetbreads sit on walnuts and red pepper pesto – an atypical arrangement, although the earthy flavours work together. The full range of standard steaks are supplemented by a market selection of bigger sharing cuts (tomahawk, chateaubriand, porterhouse) priced by weight and age. The cooking is exact, accompaniments include some standout beef-dripping fries, and the ‘select your own weapon’ steak knife is a nice touch.

For some, however, the crowning glory is the traditional Sunday roast with its duo of thick-sliced meat and braised ox cheek complemented by an extensive range of oven-roasted vegetables, a suitably gnarly yorkie and glossy bone-marrow jus. Desserts might include the popular sticky toffee Alaska with its caramelised dome of meringue hiding a ginger-infused ice. Wines come from a short list of popular favourites with a steak-friendly focus. Prices are kind and most are available by the glass, although there are a few ‘opulent’ choices for those wanting to splash out.

‘Precise, interesting French-accented cooking’ combined with genial service and a chilled vibe is the winning formula at this spirited neighbourhood eatery in the heart of increasingly foodie Melrose. Inside, it feels calm, informal and airy, with an open pass, a thoughtfully laid-out dining room at the back, and owners who are prepared to go that extra mile for their customers: ‘you can tell they really love the local community,’ noted one regular. In the kitchen, finely honed French technique meets judiciously sourced Scottish produce, as in roast Borders lamb loin and crispy shoulder teamed with ratatouille, roasted potatoes and lamb jus or a pairing of North Sea cod and Orkney crab invigorated with coastal vegetables and sauce américaine. The menu also finds room for the likes of Catalan fish stew or gnocchi with a verdant assembly of asparagus, courgette, peas and basil, while the kitchen is happy to provide beer-battered haddock or cheeseburgers with house sauce and skinny fries for those who prefer to keep things staunchly traditional. The results are solid and flavoursome, rounded off with desserts such as raspberry and whisky cranachan or a warm sponge cake with chocolate brownie and crème anglaise. Readers also praise the terrific-value weekday lunches, and the offer of brunch goes down well with those who fancy kick-starting their day with a full Scottish, some French toast or a plate of truffled mushrooms Benedict. The short wine list has a decent showing of dependable international labels.

Dating from the 19th-century and surrounded by 240 acres of Sussex gardens and woodlands, Italianate Grade II-listed Leonardslee House is now home to a distinctive and elegant fine-dining restaurant with rooms. Here, Jean Delport and his team forage for ingredients, though the chef also looks to his South African culinary heritage, which lends a very distinctive flavour to his 16-course ‘Estate Experience’. Slices of biltong formed part of our array of canapés served in the bar, alongside breadsticks glazed with homemade ‘Marmite’ and topped with a refined version of slaphakskeentjies (a South African onion salad with a cooked egg and mustard dressing).

A first course of lobster with cauliflower and kombu-washed Exmoor caviar, served with a glass of excellent Blanc de Blancs from Leonardslee’s own vineyard, was almost upstaged by the accompanying vertoek – an ethereally light, savoury doughnut finished with lardo and crispy pork skin. The mosbolletjies bread course was a highlight. Made with wine must from the vineyard, the traditional anise-flavoured brioche-like loaf was served in a mini cast iron casserole with home-churned butter ceremoniously melted tableside in a pan into which biltong spices, mushroom garum, red-wine onions and herbs from the estate were added.

‘Rabbit eats carrot’ showcased another estate ingredient in an impressively elaborate signature dish of many parts: a terrine of rabbit, duck liver, pork and rabbit jelly sandwiched between wafers of 'feuilles de brick' pastry, paired with carrot mayonnaise; buttermilk- and vodka-marinated deep-fried rabbit leg, presented in a smoke-filled cloche; pastry boats of confit rabbit and chilli jam, topped with rabbit mousse, cured egg yolk and marinated carrots. The dish was completed with crisp carrot 'leather' tartlets filled with rabbit offal and presented on a moss-topped log from the garden – a bravura exhibition of culinary technique and nose-to-tail cooking that was a delight to eat.

There were a few hiccups during the three-and-a-half-hour marathon, but despite the extended duration, the pace of the meal never flagged and the service remained engaged and genuinely friendly throughout. Each course was accompanied by an information card, a clever way to avoid overly long dish descriptions at the table. Wines from Leonardslee and sister South African winery Benguela Cove offer particular value on a varied and interesting list where two-thirds of the bottles are priced at less than three figures – a pleasant surprise given the ambition of the restaurant.

You wouldn’t guess it from the name, but Sonny Stores is a charming neighbourhood Italian, set in a former corner shop amid the terraces and bay windows of Southville. Out front, a blackboard advertises takeaway pizzas, but inside you’ll find no trace of Leaning Tower or Ponte Vecchio chintz: the interiors are bright and contemporary, with Fellini-esque terrazzo flooring, a smattering of potted plants and a sunflower painted over the door – indeed, it ‘feels like you’re in someone’s living room.’

The name ‘Sonny’ is borrowed from the son of owners Mary Glynn and chef Pegs Quinn (ex-River Café) – it's clear the restaurant they run together is also a labour of love. Antipasti are thoughtfully assembled – check out the excellent fat Nocellara olives and the much-loved (though admittedly not Italian) Cantabrian anchovies (chunky specimens doused in salt and oil). Starters might take inspiration from across the peninsula – there are northern Italian notes in a dish of crispy beef tongue with salsa rossa, though deep-fried whole quail with hot honey and crème fraîche on the side is more of a departure.

Pasta dishes might include looping pappardelle with rich chicken-liver ragù, parsley and Parmesan – though our standout dish was a main course of poached cod in a rich broth of clams ‘acqua pazza’, resting on bruschetta that absorbed the flavours. Some might round off with pear ice cream, brown sugar and walnut; others go for a generous slab of tiramisu. Also look out for the good-value weekday set lunches.

For decades, the Milbrook has defended its reputation as a reliable source of decent pub food in the South Hams but since Caitlin Owens took on ownership in 2021, it has found a new stride. Elegant restoration has amplified the cosy low-ceilinged hostelry into a sophisticated destination, whether you’re staying in the rooms across the road, or rocking up sandy-footed from the beach, ready for a pint of Salcombe Brewery Ocean Cider by the babbling brook at the back.

Beyond good looks, the menu is bolstered by its connection to Fowlescombe – a luxury rural retreat and working regenerative farm – and by Elly Wentworth, who works as executive chef across both sites, balancing prime ingredients with an approachable menu. Brixham crab and fresh corn chowder made for a swoon-worthy opener on our most recent visit, while a Toulouse sausage was packed with flavour and the triple-cooked chips were as good as you’d hope.

Sunday lunches and seasonal desserts such as Fowlescombe farm honey and fig trifle with roasted hazelnuts complete the package, while on dark nights the fireside beckons for a pre- or post-prandial trip through the adventurous wine list, which uses the Coravin system to offer maximum interest by the glass. Service can fluctuate with the seasons but it always supports a convivial hubbub of happy diners.

You may think that an ear-splittingly noisy restaurant, painted black, run by a team of tattooed chefs and named after a US punk band of the 70s, is not for you. Think again. This place is a terrific find. Mark Hill heads the kitchen, sending out eclectic Asian-inspired street food ‘with a big slice of punk rock’. That means an ever-changing line-up of small plates or an unstuffy tasting menu of five or six adventurous dishes rich in spices and heady flavours.

We enjoyed a cracking ‘14-spice pigeon yakitori’: two generous pieces on a skewer finished with nam jim, peanuts and lime leaves. Elsewhere, jackfruit was cleverly transformed with the addition of Burmese curry paste and a ‘prik laab’ spice mix, all set on a parilla leaf and served with pickle, chilli jam, crunchy onions and crackers. Hull meets Bangkok on Sunday when they have their own distinctive take on the classic roast lunch. Expect slow-roast beef, pork with a soy glaze and prik laab-cured duck breast, while tamarind-glazed celeriac served with a spiced beignet stuffed with betel leaves should please the vegans. All the dishes come with confit carrots, charred cabbage, roast potatoes, Yorkshire pudding and a fabulous gravy singing with spices.

As for dessert, try the delightful ‘distorted’ steamed ginger pudding – a mini suet pudding filled with stem ginger floating in a soothing chamomile and miso custard. A chilled glass of South African Gamay shone from the short, well-described wine list, but don't ignore the cool cocktails. ‘We play brash music, serve spicy food and strong drink, but most importantly, we are a place of respect, welcomeness and love,’ say the owners. You have been warned.

A reworking of Wyatt & Jones, in that it has the same owners and the same location (under York Gate on the steep incline as Harbour Street runs down to the sea), but the newly minted Twenty Seven Harbour Street offers a short menu of small sharing plates cooked over fire. Little has changed inside – think chapel chairs and wooden tables, soothing dark colours, big windows with views to the sea – and the welcome remains as friendly for passing tourists as it is for the many loyal locals. Staff are efficient and, like the food, anything but dour.

Bright colours, carefully matched textures and a global array of flavours characterise the likes of squid-ink rice with sobrasada, tempura monkfish, peas, aïoli and red chilli – one of the highlights of our meal. Vivid flavours and on-point cooking also typified a gently charred and carefully seasoned devilled red mullet, while chargrilled asparagus atop crab gribiche was clever and understated. A tender, flavoursome Kentish pork chop (served with aubergine, anchovy and rosemary butter) was simply delicious, too. We shared a luscious and satisfying final course – sourdough doughnuts covered in white, milk and dark chocolate with a sprinkling of pistachios.

Dishes arrive as and when they are ready, so the table can fill up quickly – but let it be, because this is a place for relaxed, tasty, wine-bar grazing, especially when there is an enterprising spread of European and English wines by the glass. Breakfast is offered at weekends, and the wood-fired roasts on Sundays are highly recommended.