32 of Britain’s best wine bars and restaurants for soaking up the sun
Published 14 August 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.

Ahoy there landlubbers! You don’t need to have your sea legs to enjoy the unique experience of dining at Barge East, a floating (but not moving) restaurant on the river Lee at Hackney Wick. The carefully preserved Dutch barge has been moored there for five years, and has grown during that time to include a street kitchen and canalside garden and to adapt to the needs of visitors to the area which now include West Ham football fans (check for home fixtures before you book) and besequinned devotees en route to the ABBA Voyage Arena. Inside the barge, it’s more hygge than hectic, with upcycled wooden tables, cushions and little vases of flowers. The vibe is romantic, quirky, and charming. While the cooking is fairly up-to-the-minute – zero-waste techniques feed into the menu – it’s all very approachable. You don’t have to be Gen Z to understand what you’re eating. We were impressed by a nicely made ham hock and pistachio terrine with ajo blanco, and by classical venison loin with pomegranate, parsnip and bread sauce. Loquat purée and mushroom XO don’t do an awful lot for English asparagus, but the produce can’t be faulted. Other dishes might include whey-brined chicken with braised spelt and wild garlic pesto or spiced cauliflower with cauliflower-leaf bhaji and rice cakes. Finish with sticky toffee pudding, sweet cicely panna cotta or an inspired cheese course of ‘lost bread’ with Wigmore, walnuts, celery. A list of European wines (from £34) includes around half a dozen by the glass. The bill takes the form of a message in a bottle. The message being, you don’t have to break the bank to enjoy a meal out in London.

Part of the Black Rock Group, which also includes the Coal Shed, the Salt Room and Tutto, this remodelled 16th-century coaching inn remains one of the hottest tickets in town. It’s difficult to pinpoint the secret to the restaurant’s continued success because they do everything so well. As one diner noted: ‘Whether an occasion, a Sunday lunch or an early-doors dinner, this bistro can cater for anything’.

With its flint stone walls, open kitchen, dining counter and burnt-orange banquettes, it still feels fresh and stylish (the charming enclosed courtyard is a great spot in good weather). Service is seamless, from the warm welcome at the reception desk to attention to detail at the table. More importantly, everyone seems genuinely pleased to see you. Chef Peter Dantanus’s regularly changing list of small plates combines wood-fired cooking and global influences to beguiling effect.

A simple plate of plump, perfectly cooked mussels served on toast was made memorable by the gentle heat and richness of an Urfa chilli butter. Aubergine, smoky from the wood fire and deeply savoury from the addition of miso had the perfect combination of soft flesh and crispy skin, with a generous topping of crispy shallots, pomegranate and pine nuts adding crunch, while a sour cream dressing lent contrasting richness. Small, waxy skillet-baked potatoes, drenched in a herb cream and showered with gratings of hard sheep’s cheese have been a menu staple since day one and remain a must-order.

Not everything was perfect on our visit: the signature wood-fired flatbread with sesame brown butter was doughy and greasy, while charred grey mullet with buttermilk crab curry was served tepid in a grainy sauce. These did, however, feel like minor mishaps in the context of an otherwise pleasurable experience. The reasonably priced wine list is a bonus, but cocktails including the signature Burnt Orange Martini or something from the Margarita list, are the thing to drink here; the restaurant is open until 1am at the weekend for late-night drinks.

The prospect of chilling out on a hugely desirable decked terrace by the river Cherwell makes this enchanting Victorian boathouse one of Oxford’s great delights – and that’s before you factor in its glorious wine cellar and the added temptations of punting on the water. Dating from 1904, this beloved institution is also a good shout for capably handled food with noticeable English and French accents. Nothing is overplayed here, but the kitchen comes up with subtly creative ideas to match the seasons. Eating alfresco in summer, you might indulge in a bowl of gazpacho with watermelon or Cornish mackerel with sauce pipérade ahead of Cotswold chicken breast with samphire, tarragon and pea fricassée. Come winter, other treats await those who congregate in the dining room – an affable blend of wooden floorboards, bare beams and white tablecloths. Openers such as venison fritters with Parmesan purée and crispy kale might precede guinea fowl adorned with a festive harvest of walnut purée, wild mushrooms, roasted Brussels sprouts and bone marrow jus. For afters, hot chocolate pot with passion fruit is a perennial favourite – although you might prefer local strawberries with elderflower custard or tarte tatin with Calvados ice cream, depending on the calendar. For many, however, it’s all about the superlative wine list, an all-embracing compendium stuffed with mouthwatering global selections ranging from Old World aristocrats of high pedigree to the most fashionable young contenders. Mark-ups are kind, with selections from the 'shortlist' starting at £19.75 (£5 for a standard glass).

The younger sibling of Covino in Chester is altogether a larger, more aspirational affair. Its greatest USP is the location. Although not the first to fly high in the sky over Manchester's city centre, it keeps the urban panorama centre stage with clean, modern lines and a clever use of the rooftop space. The wrap-around interior provides every frill-free table with a pigeon’s eye view; high chairs border the long counter of the open kitchen. The connecting garden area (note the beehives) provides ample seating to satisfy the Mancunian thirst for sunshine when it appears. Climat describes itself as a 'wine-led' restaurant, a reference to their impressively stocked cellar. Burgundy leads the pack but doesn’t dominate. A Xinomavro 2018 from Macedonia had big flavours that partnered well with a robust dish of lamb leg, roasted cauliflower and kale. Unfortunately, the wine descriptions are generic; a sommelier or more informed serving staff might have helped guide the choice. The sharing-plates menu is a good spread of classic and modern, with a broadly Gallic orientation, plus retro and international references: salt fish beignets with aïoli and herb salad; prawn cocktail with avocado mousse and baby gem vol-au-vents; Tamworth pork chop with flat beans and Pommery mustard. The kitchen shows a deft hand with vegetables and salads, which are often enlivened with bitter notes – a combo of beetroot, whipped tofu, charcoal vinaigrette and mustard cress, for example, contrasted its creamy, light and earthy elements well. But there are slips, too, from an excessively oily dressing on purple sprouting broccoli to a plum tarte fine that proved unremarkable. Luckily, the quartet of well-sourced cheeses (a sheep’s milk St Helena; Roquefort-like sheep’s milk Regalis; a lactic, soft goat’s milk Elrick Log; and raw milk Baron Bigod) proved a better finale. It may be unfair to compare Climat with older sibling Covino (both are relaxed and innovative, without being gimmicky), but at inspection we found the latter offered a much more happy-making experience. 

Corkage has always felt like the kind of neighbourhood restaurant that can give a neighbourhood a good name. The original manifestation was in an engaging tiny space quite a way up Walcot Street and was so successful a larger branch opened in Chapel Row, just off Queen Square. Post-pandemic, only the Chapel Row branch has survived. A long and narrow dining room with chunky wood furniture, bookended by a snug front bar and a timbered and tented rear terrace, it’s instantly appealing, a very attractive operation with rough edges but with its heart in the right place. It works as a wine and small-plates bar, offering great value, breezy, friendly service, and bags of atmosphere. The short, regularly changing menu is reflective of the Mediterranean basin, the seasons, and the chef’s enthusiasms. Thus you’ll find cured-and-torched mackerel fillet with soured cream, vermouth jelly and breadcrumbs alongside lamb sweetbreads with a mix of peas, broad beans and shallots, a dab of labneh and a smear of herb oil. Or there could be slow-braised shoulder of lamb with butter beans, lemon and greens, and nicely charred octopus atop chickpea purée with a red pepper and onion salad. Pudding might be a tart (perhaps lemon with crème fraîche) or a special of burnt Catalan cheesecake. Not the least attraction of the place is the long list of kindly priced wines, a mainly classy Eurocentric coterie with skin contact and 'funky' offerings, plus a good by-the-glass selection.

Margate is inundated with blow-ins from the London restaurant scene and beyond at the moment, but it was local talent that established the town as a serious food destination. And there are few better examples than Dory’s, the small, simple seafood eatery-cum-wine bar overlooking the beach, where a local, seasonal and sustainable commitment filters down from famous older sibling Angela’s, just round the corner. Ethical credentials pour forth from chalkboard menus and the drinks list (aperitifs run to a take on the Bloody Mary earthed up with garlic) and, as a no-cook set-up, it’s a model of its kind. Dishes are pre-made: the likes of soused paprika mussels are served cold, but brown crab piled high on toast (creamy with just a hint of chilli warmth) or smoked haddock and dill pie (with a fabulous pastry crust) are finished or reheated behind the bar. We also tried a bass fillet with kale, lentils and green sauce (superb), reignited our love affair with smoked prawns (first sampled at Angela's in the summer), and enjoyed an apple cake with caramel and crème fraîche. From a trio of wines by the glass chalked up on a board, we chose a skin-contact Rennersistas-Intergalactic from Burgenland, Austria – a brilliant match for the food; by contrast, the wine list proper favours some superb, forward-thinking English vineyards. The fact that everything is as it should be is down to a cracking front-of-house team. And while Dory's now takes bookings, the good news is that some space is reserved each day for walk-ins – a godsend in a town where the best restaurants can be booked up weeks in advance.

Swans in the middle of Manchester! Who would have thought? But Flawd is on the New Islington Marina, a network of canals and water basins now home to barges and wildfowl, new apartments, green spaces and walkways. The feel is Dutch or Scandinavian, enhanced by a fine-weather terrace. It’s a suitable setting for a contemporary bottle shop, wine bar and sharing-plate eatery of restricted size with a buzzy atmosphere, enthusiastic staff and a funky playlist. As soon as you walk in, you know it’s a place in which to have fun.

The blackboard menu changes regularly and features local and regional ingredients such as Lancaster smoked mackerel, Garstang Blue cheese and ‘big dollops’ of outstanding sourdough bread from neighbouring bakery Pollen. Charcuterie is from Curing Rebels in Brighton, however, although who cares about regional pedantry when it’s this good?

This place has pedigree, and it shows: flair and imagination define the largely plant-focused cooking, which goes big on flavour. Unctuous whipped split-pea dip might be paired with fermented kale or spring onions, while stewed autumn tomatoes are served with ‘nduja and garlic toast. Elsewhere, grilled romanesco is paired with goat’s curd and treviso (‘a deliciously earthy combo’), and assorted brassicas are heaped with autumnal chestnut mushrooms and topped with shavings of cured ox heart (like ‘poor people’s truffle’).

The word Flawd refers to an 18th-century term meaning ‘drunk’, which is fitting as they major on natural and low-intervention wines from small producers. It’s also a trick to disabuse drinkers of the perception that such wines are ‘flawed’. With a range of styles by the glass, it’s easy to delve into this brave new world – and if that lacks appeal, there’s also an excellent choice of craft beer. Note: there are no reservations and no desserts. A flaw, perhaps, but not a fatal one.

Situated a stone’s throw from the Grand Union Canal, the Fox has already become a valued neighbourhood asset in the little enclave of Catherine-de-Barnes. It may be on a busy road, but inside the bright restaurant is a relaxing spot with its beige carpet, chilled soundtrack, white walls and mirrored faux windows. At the rear, a beautiful vine-covered terrace, potted olive trees and a little stretch of lawn bravely try to conjure up the Mediterranean – though heaters and blankets are on hand for chilly Solihull nights. The brief, regularly changing menu incorporates small and large plates at lunch, as well as a selection of antipasti snacks, while dinner is a fixed-price deal. Creamy broccoli and blue-cheese soup, served with moreish toasted sourdough (from a nearby bakery), could be followed by a succulent chunk of hake with sliced courgette and a rich Crémant velouté, topped by a rather chewy frond of dried seaweed. A well-presented caramelised white-chocolate cheesecake with banana ice cream makes a pleasing finale, while the selection of local beers and a concise but varied wine list are further draws. Nevertheless, it is the warm welcome and friendly service that attract most praise from regulars. ‘They take really good care of you’; ‘nothing is too much trouble’; 'service is first class, relaxed, attentive and personal’ are typical plaudits. Morning coffee, bread for sale, and a roster of special events (from brunch to a menu celebrating International Women’s Day) also help to make this a cherished local haunt.

‘A celebratory and inspiring environment offering a little bit of escapism in the heart of Oxford,’ is one reader’s verdict on this long-standing beau monde favourite, which now boasts a heated garden terrace and an adjacent art gallery/private dining space (handy for wedding bashes). The essence of Gees, though, has always been its beautiful conservatory restaurant, converted from a greengrocer’s in 1985 and still under the same ownership.

Globe lights dangle from the glass roof, while black-and-white tiled flooring and a convivial crowd of youngish locals add to the brasserie vibe – as does the catch-all Med-inspired menu. Crisp, thin-based pizzette with regularly changing toppings (including an inspired pairing of Taleggio with potatoes and thyme) are equally good as a first course or as a snack with drinks; alternatively, start with harissa-roasted squash, chickpeas and feta. Moving on, ‘today’s fish’ could be a little fillet of fresh mackerel matched with a wonderfully punchy anchovy and tomato salsa; otherwise, dip into the selection of pastas – perhaps rigatoni with duck ragù and pecorino. Sides such as tenderstem broccoli with chimichurri provide the greenery, yet also bump up an already sizeable bill.

To finish, desserts such as chocolate nemesis and crema catalana maintain the broadly Med theme, likewise unhurried Sunday roasts such as porchetta with chorizo-roast potatoes, carrots and courgettes. However, Gees' main attraction is its happy hubbub, helped along by agreeable young staff and a drinks list comprising cocktails and a 30-strong selection of wines with southern Europe as the main player.

It's a mighty long way from the south London heartlands of Brixton and Peckham where Nicholas Balfe's other venues have been sited, but South Petherton in Somerset exudes its own contrasting charisma. In Holm, he has founded a rural enclave, where the kitchen can move in rhythm with the West Country seasons, the full gastronomic range of menu formats all driven by what is most tempting from surrounding farmsteads and suppliers.

From the dining area to the guest rooms, the place has been done out with the lightest palette, with terrazzo flooring, blond wood, distressed plasterwork and small framed abstract shapes to look at. Staff are attentive, friendly and importantly informed about Dan Graham's intuitively poised dishes. Lighter lunch starters might take in crisply crumbed hogget croquette with yoghurt and gherkins, or a bowl of beetroot, apple and feta soup. Follow on with butterflied mackerel zigzagged with aïoli, or an accurately pink bavette with Isle of Wight tomatoes. Pair with a well-dressed bowl of local saladings, or roasted pink firs dabbed with chimichurri.

Evening menus bring on the more substantial likes of pork loin with burnt pear, or Cornish sea bass with pumpkin in brown butter, while the vegetarian option might offer a fortifying assemblage of gnocchi with girolles and sweetcorn. We finished with an excellent tarta de Santiago (almond and citrus cake) with poached quince and crème fraîche, but there could be fig-leaf panna cotta with plums and shortbread, or chocolate crémeux and honeycomb.

Fragrant cocktails and a concise yet imaginative wine list inspire confidence, and there's a fuller cellar list for deep-divers. Castlewood Vineyard's Devon sparklers in both colours should get the party started.

‘A beacon of freshness and seasonality’ in the elegant environs of Herne Hill, independently owned Llewelyn’s has more than proved its worth as a neighbourhood asset with chef Lasse Petersen at the helm. Large windows flood the pale walls of the dining room with natural light, reflected by gilt-edged mirrors, while the sumptuous leather of the green banquettes makes a naturally inviting place to linger during an unhurried lunchtime. Despite the relative simplicity of the menu descriptions, there is much afoot in the dishes: a rösti is embellished with smoked eel and mustard leaf, while monkfish is given the seasonal treatment with capers, crab and Brussels sprouts.

There are touches of traditionalism too: crisp-skinned pollack might be honour-guarded with mussels and sauced with a rich bisque, while grilled leg of lamb could be dressed with bagna cauda and charred greens. Veggies might fancy something cheesy – perhaps Roquefort with marinated figs, grapes and frisée or a Comté soufflé with creamed spinach and autumn truffle. Desserts play the seasonal card, from a set cream with winter citrus and pistachio to a ‘mince pie’ riff on Arctic roll.

Service exudes ‘unwavering warmth and impeccable hospitality,’ according to one devotee, while an eclectic collection of wines, including a welter of skin-contact gear, adds to the allure. The owners also run a shop and wine bar called Lulu's, next door to the restaurant.

When Ombra opened its doors by the banks of the Regent's Canal back in 2011, today’s gentrification was a long way off. Now this former retail site is custom-built for a taste of Venetian-style bacaro cool. Drop by on spec, have a drink and a snack with some fresh bread from the owners’ bakery Forno – whatever you fancy. It's the perfect setting with its edgy but wonderfully whimsical interior design, tinted floor-to-ceiling windows and heated terrace for alfresco socialising.

Chef Mitshel Ibrahim (ex-Clove Club) conjures up some rare inventions, taking his cue from the traditions of regional Italian small-plates grazing, but adding flavours that are all his own – how about Carlingford oysters topped with startling cherry mustard? As for his light and crispy crostino topped with the most translucent home-cured pancetta, it ranks as ’one of the singularly most delicious mouthfuls I have ever tasted,’ drooled an inspector.

Other prize nibbles might range from a ‘cauliflower mushroom’ (sparassis) with Calabrian chilli and egg yolk to cured mackerel tartare with fennel and blood orange, although you must leave room for some silky hand-rolled pasta. Tagliatelle with well-judged anchovy butter and a generous amount of shaved truffle is a ‘triumph of less is more’, while crab tortelloni with crab ragù and hen of the woods brings delicacy as well as flavour to the table.

The menu also includes a couple of heftier ‘secondi’ too (a show-stopping dish of melting sweetbreads in perfectly balanced pea and mint velouté, say), while classic ‘dolci’ could herald panna cotta with poached pears or chestnut and roasted quince semifreddo. Since ‘ombra’ is Venetian dialect for a weeny glass of wine, it’s no surprise that drinkers have a ‘really interesting’ choice of Italian low-intervention tipples to sample. There are cool spritzs and aperitifs too.

‘This is how summer dining should be,’ thought one visitor. Indeed. Deep in the Wiltshire countryside, Pythouse's billowing flower gardens and warm walls embrace the old lean-to conservatory that acts as a dining room. Geraniums and little lemon trees juggle for windowsill space, blinds shade from the sun, and doors are open to the breeze. It’s an easy place in which to pass a few hours – especially when your table is filled variously with good things, prepared simply, mostly over fire. Bouncy, chewy potato bread with garlicky fava-bean houmous drizzled with rapeseed oil and a gathering of pickled veg nudges the appetite. The garden dictates culinary proceedings, with preserved ingredients lifting flavours here and there. A June outing brought treasures aplenty: miso-braised hispi cabbage with wet garlic; slow-cooked tomatoes with wisps of pickled rose petals and herb oil; roasted beets with smoked cream, fig-leaf vinegar and the toasty crunch of puffed quinoa. What’s not grown on site comes from nearby: wild venison from north Somerset; pasture-reared beef from a small family farm in the impossibly romantic-sounding hamlet of Nempnett Thrubwell; chalk stream trout (served with asparagus velouté). Gorgeously tender lamb (cooked pink) is a highlight, with a wilt of fermented wild garlic giving sharpness and roasted cauliflower purée adding a savoury note. To finish, fresh strawberries tumble against the 'Milk Bar's crack pie’ – a chewy, treacly, biscuity tart topped with thick, whipped Jersey-milk Ivy House cream – while bitter notes temper sweetness nicely in an espresso caramel with a Pump Street chocolate mousse. To drink? Yes there’s wine, but this is the home of Sprigster, the botanical shrub that surely refreshes parts no alcohol can truly reach.

Whether it’s your first time or your fiftieth time at Rochelle Canteen, you can’t fail to feel a frisson when pressing the buzzer to gain admission. Is this the place? Is it open? But once inside the old building (formerly a school bike shed), seated in the glass-walled canteen or basking in the beautifully dappled light of the garden, you feel immediately at ease. The daily changing menu is a ‘celebration of all the things that we love most,' say owners Margot Henderson and Melanie Arnold, while the venue's many regulars share their enthusiasm for Anglo-European cookery, classic and modern. Typically, that might mean faggots with carrots and green sauce, French onion soup, cod cheeks with anchovy and rosemary, crab tart with a nicely dressed little salad, or sweetbreads with radishes, bacon and mint. For afters, steamed marmalade pudding, cherry parfait and plum pavlova are puds of the ‘proper’ persuasion. In short, Rochelle is pretty much idyllic – especially at lunchtime and especially in the summer. Wines (from £35) are European, and predominantly French.

Opened on Bristol’s waterfront Cargo development in 2017, this 'restaurant in a shipping container' may be starting to show its age (in good weather, the terrace is the place to be), but Root still delivers fresh creativity on the plate. Part of Josh Eggleton’s Pony Restaurant Group, it offers an ever-changing seasonal menu of vegetable-led small plates – although there are always a couple of fish and meat choices, say butterflied red mullet with Isle of Wight tomatoes and saffron aïoli. 

A recent meal kicked off with a simple plate of crudités, elevated by the presence of sparklingly fresh raw vegetables, punchy pickles and a delicious cashew and seaweed dip. Light and fluffy gnudi-style ewe’s curd dumplings are a Root signature dish and rightly so; the accompanying braised greens had great flavour, accentuated by tart and fragrant preserved lemon. By contrast, Wye Valley asparagus with peas, broad beans, radish and cider shallots was spring personified in one fresh and invigorating assemblage. A beautifully made honey and brown butter tart brought the meal to a satisfactorily sweet conclusion. The wine list offers 25 choices, with eight available by the carafe. The emphasis is on natural viticulture, but with enough organic and biodynamic options to please the wider wine-drinking audience. 

With founding chef Rob Howell having relocated to the sister Root in Wells, we couldn’t completely dismiss the nagging feeling that the Bristol original is now something of a poor relation. In addition to the interior’s wear and tear, service was somewhat inattentive and there was a general lack of excitement about the experience. Nevertheless, there is still plenty to love about Root, and it remains a Bristol stalwart.

Sam Harrison’s ‘wow factor’ brasserie has quickly become a local institution, where friends are cherished and first timers are welcomed with arms open wide. It's joyous, buzzy, unpretentious and a godsend for the neighbourhood – especially as the man himself and his wonderfully accommodating staff help to create that special frisson of ‘show and anticipation’. The glorious setting by the river ‘feels a million miles from central London’, while the airy, clean-lined dining room (lots of light and glass) emanates an invitingly civilised glow. There’s also a much-in-demand outdoor terrace and a ‘spectacular’ bar – don’t miss the ‘oyster happy hour’. As for the cooking, seasonality rules and the kitchen is big on provenance, supporting local suppliers and the community (‘they even use ingredients from a farm on a nearby inner-city school,’ observed one fan). The result is a rolling roster of refreshingly straightforward but creative dishes noted for their bold, up-front flavours. Seafood platters go down a storm, but also expect anything from mussels with ‘nduja, spring onion and samphire to lamb rump accompanied by potato terrine, purple sprouting broccoli and wild garlic. Devotees of cheeseburgers, spatchcock poussin and lobster rolls won’t be disappointed, while those who are sweet of tooth can delight in desserts such as buttermilk panna cotta or rhubarb pavlova with lemon curd. Sam’s set menu is one of the capital’s bargains and locals descend in their droves for the terrific Sunday lunch blowout. There are also ‘special wines to discover’ from a well-chosen list offering affordable access and a decent selection by the glass. 

London escapees Ivor and Susie Dunkerton started making organic cider and perry on their Herefordshire smallholding back in 1980 and their enterprise has reaped rich rewards ever since. The business is now run by their son and production has moved to Cheltenham, but inquisitive travellers can still visit the original cider mill – and its adjoining restaurant, housed in a beautiful Grade II-listed 400-year-old barn nearby. Run by local chef Sophie Bowen, it eschews folksy, homespun fodder in favour of stylish contemporary food inspired by ingredients from the surrounding countryside. At lunchtime, you can graze from the café menu (shallot fishcakes, teriyaki beef with pickled cabbage, seafood chowder), but it pays to book in for the full works in the evening – especially if you’re intrigued by the prospect of baked hake with creamy polenta, sautéed wild mushrooms and kale dressed with shrimps and capers or soy-marinated pork loin accompanied by a black pudding croquette, caraway-spiked spring greens and horseradish mayo. To finish, freshly fried doughnuts with citrus curd sound unmissable, but also consider the caramelised white chocolate, tarragon and rhubarb millefeuille. Sunday lunch is a showcase for slow-cooked Herefordshire beef with all the trimmings. To drink, one of Dunkertons fruity brews is the natural choice, but there’s also a short list of well-chosen wines from £21.

Found down narrow lanes a few miles from Chard, this remote but civilised hostelry of some character encapsulates many people’s idea of what a rural inn should be like. The Englishness of the setting – quietly hugging a gentle, verdant slope at the foot of the Blackdown Hills – combined with wood-burners, a medley of old wooden tables and chairs, local ales, beer garden and all, create a feel of well-ordered rusticity.

Maddie Beaumont and Ben Porter run their business very personally, the relaxed atmosphere and easy-going service working well with the comfortable, simple interior and stunning location. Apart from the views and the glorious summer dining terrace, people come here for the sourdough pizzas and for the Cotley Estate Ruby Red burger (with Monterey Jack, spiced beef brisket, roasted garlic aïoli, chilli relish, house slaw and chunky chips) that was proving so popular on our visit.

Indeed, the seasonal menu reflects a strong relationship with local suppliers, the dishes a familiar combination of quality ingredients along the lines of grilled Cornish monkfish tail with braised baby gem, marie rose sauce, king prawns and violet artichokes, plus a warm tomato salad on the side. There are steaks too, popular Sunday roasts, a British cheese slate and generous desserts that play the comfort card. The wine list is very reasonably priced (from £28), and mainly European, with a handful from the New World. Comfortable bedrooms are in the former stables,

A centuries-old village local atop a hill midway between Hadrian's Wall and the conurbations of Tyne & Wear, the Feathers continues to provide sustenance for locals and visitors alike. Inside, it looks the part with beams, log-burning stoves, Northumbrian ales and old-fashioned pub games as part of the offer, although the place has built its current reputation on locally sourced seasonal food, industrious home production and a commitment to ethical practices. The kitchen cures its own charcuterie, makes black pudding and pickles North Sea herrings (‘as good as most I’ve had in Scandinavia,’ noted one visitor) – as well as producing bespoke spirits including mulberry gin. They have a published list of more than 60 local suppliers, including foragers and growers, Northumbrian farmers specialising in rare breeds and day-boat fishermen catching sustainable species off the East Coast. An outdoor fire pit works its magic on flatbreads, grilled vegetables (used for vegan meze) and Haydon Bridge beef patties (slotted into brioche buns with Gorgonzola piccante and dill pickles). Otherwise, the kitchen’s eclectic approach sees battered haddock and fillet of wild halibut with chilli and rosemary velouté alongside braised local roe deer with celeriac purée, English lentils and emmer wheat or Spanish-style home-cured pork chop with fried potatoes and bravas sauce. For afters, the Northumbrian cheeses are well worth a punt, as are the homemade ices and homespun desserts such as blackberry and apple sponge with custard or steamed gingerbread pudding. To drink, vermouth-based cocktails and keenly priced, well-chosen wines fit the bill nicely.

There are plenty of reasons to linger in this cosy all-year courtyard garden right at the heart of the Corinthia London hotel. Beautifully sheltered, shaded and planted, it cuts a real dash in summer but come winter a mix of sofas with blankets, two fireplaces and plenty of heaters make this a comfortable and elegant destination whatever the weather. Among the all-day food and drinks offering, expect Mediterranean airs in show-stopping main courses such as white asparagus served with a morel and artichoke casserole, wild garlic and fresh Parmesan, or a beautifully rendered, baked sea bass fillet with fennel, capers and lemon. Eggs Mimosa or beef carpaccio start things off with plenty of oomph, otherwise plump for just one dish – say a satisfying salade niçoise or a pizzette topped with Ortiz tuna, tomato, black olive and pea shoots. It’s all about good food, good wine – and cigars after 9.30pm – at prices that match the surroundings.

There are lots of hints that this semi-rural pub in the upmarket residential village of Old Windsor is part of Scottish-born chef Adam Handling’s mini empire. With its stylish tartan tub chairs and walls bedecked with dried heather and flowers, the decor has more than a hint of a modern Highland lodge about it. The menu includes signature Handling dishes such as the excellent sourdough served with chicken butter, chicken-skin scratchings and an intense but quaffable chicken jus for dunking. The biggest clue, however, is just how polished, professional and smooth the whole operation is. This might be a pub (and a highly enjoyable one at that), but high standards are maintained throughout – especially when it comes to the beautifully presented, precisely cooked and big flavoured food. Purists might be surprised by the artfully arranged pile of paprika-flavoured crispy shallots that tops off a playful version of steak tartare, but they wouldn’t argue with the extra layer of complexity they lend to this otherwise classic dish. To follow, chicken breast, possibly cooked sous-vide before being browned in a pan, was exceptionally tender and had excellent flavour, the mark of a good bird. Simply but elegantly garnished with tenderstem broccoli, fresh basil, crème fraîche and 'London miso', it was the perfect lunch dish. For afters, 'the king's trifle' involved a subtle yet spicy mix of parkin, ginger cream, custard and strawberry jelly topped with candied pistachios. You will also need to be strong willed to avoid bumping up your bill with some tempting snacks such as the intriguing octopus 'hot dog' in a brioche bun with mustard and harissa. Wine doesn’t come cheap either, with just four bottles under £40, but it’s an interesting and thoughtfully assembled list – particularly if you fancy splashing out at the higher end. In good weather, a seat on the shaded front terrace overlooking open fields would be the ideal spot for a lazy repast.

A serene village in the verdant Lyth Valley, complete with a pretty church and rolling hills, is home to this upmarket hostelry. Originally a blacksmith's forge at the beginning of the 19th century, its old bones make for a magnificent country inn, where beams and slates, real fires and real ales feel right at home across several spaces. It's been a dining destination for several decades and continues to deliver a menu that keeps its feet firmly on the ground, with produce from the owners' farm ensuring that food miles are kept to a minimum.

Lancashire cheese soufflé with caramelised red onions is a cross-border favourite, comforting and rich, or you could try a lighter option such as beetroot and pomegranate salad with goat's cheese and raspberry vinaigrette. Cumbrian lamb arrives with a miniature shepherd's pie, while fish might feature pan-roasted cod with cider and mussel sauce, plus a serving of mash to soak it all up.

During the week, lunchtime brings similar dishes, with the addition of pub staples such as fish and chips or local wild boar and damson sausages (with mash and gravy). Those damsons also appear as a sorbet with the Punch Bowl's renowned lemon tart. Sunday lunch (a weekly changing blow-out) brings roast beef sirloin with Yorkies and seasonal vegetables (some courtesy of the owner's farm). Well-chosen wines from £27.

Seafood cooked over fire is a USP to grab the attention of any self-identifying foodie – and it gets even better, because the Salt Room occupies a spot overlooking the English Channel. It's a shame about the busy road out front, especially if you're lucky enough to have nabbed a table on the terrace, but this is Brighton and you're not here for the tranquillity, right? Crittal-style floor-to-ceiling windows serve up seaside views indoors too (depending on where you're seated). There's an energy to the place which suits the city – it's big and loud. The menu favours seafood but meaty and veggie things are not discarded, perhaps Himalayan salt-aged ribeye, or tempura king oyster mushrooms. If you're diving into the seafood, and have a willing accomplice, the blackboard reveals the market fish of the day, cooked over hot coals: Brighton sea bass or Cornish brill, say, filleted or on the bone ('so you can divvy it up yourself'), arrives with potatoes, vegetables, lemongrass and seaweed consommé. Mackerel 'nduja is a first-course rillette with tangy salted ricotta and pickled shallots, or there might be tuna crudo with spicy ponzu. A main-course cod, cooked just-so, comes with cauliflower multiple ways and a shellfish bisque of proper depth, while Cornish monkfish gets the barbecue treatment and a stew of white beans and 'nduja (again). Desserts include a board of seaside-themed treats, but the highlight for one reader was a choux bun with passion fruit and mango crémeux. The wine list kicks off with a selection called 'Coastal Whites', which sails from Kefalonia to Cape Aghulas; bottles start at £25, with plenty of options by the glass and carafe. 

In 2013, chef-patron Andrew Pern (of the much-garlanded Star Inn, 20 or so miles away in Harome) snapped up a derelict water pumping station by the river Ouse and added another restaurant to his portfolio. He attached a contemporary, glass-fronted extension and a spacious terrace to the Grade II-listed building, and with views across the river, there is nowhere better on a balmy day. Indoors, the 130-cover dining room is equally inviting with generous tables, velvet banquettes and characterful vintage lampshades.

Pern's aim is to bring ‘a little taste of the countryside to the city’ with the help of a seasonally changing menu: North York Moors game sausage with truffled mash; venison and beef-shin terrine; confit duck leg and duck parfait; Yorkshire Wolds chicken with fondant potato, wild garlic and pink peppercorn jus. The menu is largely meat-focused, though there is fish from the coast such as a fillet of stone bass on buttered leeks with mussels and a lovely ‘scallop’ of thinly sliced, battered and deep-fried potatoes. To finish, keep it local with Yorkshire rhubarb and almond tart or Whitby rum and York honey panna cotta.

As a seasoned restaurateur, Pern has all bases covered here – from a substantial wine list, classic and ‘zero’ cocktails, weekend breakfasts and special dinners to a children’s menu and some of the best Sunday roasts in the city.

'A bit of a departure for Inverness and a great addition,' reports our mole in the Highlands. First opened as a passion project in 2021, this relaxed wine bar is now in full swing and popular with locals. Inside is a small mix of tables with a room upstairs for tastings or private bookings – and when the sun shines, there's hot competition for a seat outside to enjoy the 200-strong wine list or the selection of Scottish beers, ciders and whiskies. Platters of cheese and dry-cured meats all come from Highland producers and are served with locally baked sourdough bread. Dogs and children welcome. Booking highly recommended.

Tucked into one side of the landmark brutalist building that is 180 Strand, Toklas is easy to miss. Just remember it has its own entrance on Surrey Street, opposite the old Strand tube station – if you find yourself outside Toklas Café & Bakery, you’ve gone too far. Set one level above the street, it’s a genuine find – an oasis of calm, especially on a warm summer’s day when a table on the wide, plant-filled terrace is highly prized. The restrained modern interior goes bare on napery and big on concrete, but natural light floods in through huge windows and striking artworks add colour.

The restaurant draws inspiration – and its name – from the avant-garde American food writer Alice B Toklas, but what distinguishes it is a commitment to concise, seasonal and elegant Mediterranean-style cooking. Indeed, the kitchen is noted for its simple, calendar-tuned line-up of dishes based on the freshest of ingredients with classic accompaniments. Those pristine raw materials are handled with a delicate touch, as in a starter of wild sea bass crudo with sweet 'honeycomb' tomatoes offset by dots of salty bottarga, plus a colourfully tangled assembly of black figs, oakleaf lettuce, crunchy hazelnuts, pecorino shavings and honey. Rabbit saltimbocca with a pile of braised chard and a chunk of fresh Amalfi lemon is completely delicious in its simplicity, while homemade pasta is the business: a plate of tagliatelle with Scottish girolles, garlic and parsley showed up well during our lunchtime visit. 

And there’s concord right to the final act: our dessert of gorgeous, perfectly roasted amaretto peaches needed nothing more than a dollop of mascarpone. The innovative wine list is dominated by bottles from the Mediterranean basin. Although there are comparatively few options under £40, drinkers have access to a generous clutch of recommendations by the glass and carafe. Excellent cocktails, too.

In the gentrified hinterland to the south of London Bridge, Trivet has the capacious, calming feel of somewhere on the American West Coast. A small outdoor terrace (with its own summertime menu), a glamorous bar and well-spaced tables set the scene for a smooth operation centred on an open kitchen, where Jonny Lake – formerly executive chef at the Fat Duck – is an authoritative gentle giant armed with tweezers. Staff are responsive to queries, the sommelier particularly good with recommendations, and the whole experience is restorative (assuming tootly-flutey jazz doesn't spoil your digestion). Nibble on olives, spiced cashews, or long broad vegetable crackers to get started. The food is all about sharply delineated flavours, with bite from pickled ingredients, salty savour from the likes of kombu and dashi, and combinations that spark the imagination. A braised spiky artichoke dressed in seaweed stock with cauliflower mushroom has plenty of piscine intensity, though it is actually a vegan dish, while dashi stock poured at the table turns a heap of saladings with kombu and gorse flowers into a sharp-dressed escort for panko-crumbed veal sweetbread. At main, a spin on duck with orange is composed of livid-pink fatless breast crusted in puffed rice and cracked peppercorns, with Tarocco blood-orange, orange-laced carrot purée, orange and endive salad, and bigarade sauce. An essentially fairly mainstream dish of turbot poached in citrus with herbed Chardonnay butter sauce was less than successfully partnered with chunks of confit Delica pumpkin that would have done better with the duck. A Turkish note is sounded in a small steamed yoghurt sponge coated in sesame seeds for dessert that comes with vanilla cream rippled with black olive caramel, or there may be a great wedge of griottine and almond tart with fantastic pastry, only let down by very pallidly flavoured pistachio ice cream. The wines are an adventurous modern collection, with stars from Turkey and Georgia alongside the skin content and 'funky' offerings. Seek the readily forthcoming advice. In a recent development, the owners have launched Labombe, a wine bar open every Monday evening in the restaurant's bar space. Alongside the rich depths of Trivet's full cellar, punters can look forward to a special by-the-glass selection from master sommelier Isa Bal, plus a blackboard menu of snacks and small plates.

Just a brisk, bracing walk from the local saltmarshes and north Norfolk’s designated National Landscape, this modernised pub with rooms overlooking the village green is a must for twitchers as well as getaway weekenders with kids (and dogs). Solid sustenance comes in the form of a seasonal menu with its finger on the local pulse, so expect anything from Brancaster mussels with chorizo and fries to Houghton Hall venison ragù with whipped polenta, via smoked seafood boards and hefty steaks with sauces. We have received mixed reports since the current regime took over, although there’s no arguing when it comes to the ‘fabulous’ Sunday roasts, the buzzy vibe or the local ales at the bar.