7 tiny restaurants punching well above their weight
Published 03 August 2026

It might be a tiny converted shed tucked behind Bridport’s police station, but this weekends-only restaurant is both sophisticated and instantly lovable. Sisters Connie and Jess Booth are floral decorators and growers by day, but come Friday and Saturday evenings, they chalk up a confidently short blackboard menu detailing exactly what you might want to eat for the time of year (and even the weather). Two sittings (6.30pm and 8.30pm) make the most of the 20 or so covers, which are quite comfortably accommodated around little bistro tables dressed with white paper tablecloths and colourful dinner candles. Start with a local pint or cocktail du jour to kick things off and let the buzzing atmosphere and vibey music wash over you. Thursday nights offer a single-choice dinner, often with live music, and are saved for walk-ins; otherwise, bookings should be made via their Instagram page. Don’t miss Selected Grapes, the wine bar and shop across the yard, for a pre- or post-meal bottle.

The name Ar Bòrd (‘our table’ in Gaelic) perfectly sums up this little village restaurant – you eat in the spacious front room of Iain and Joyce Hetherington’s modern house. What started out as a supper club has evolved into a popular seasonal destination that works because Joyce is a natural host, while Iain’s generous fixed-price carte is built on produce grown, caught or reared on the island. Meals always start with a thick slice of freshly baked sourdough, followed by an amuse-bouche of, say, smoked sea trout on a wafer-thin crispbread given a sharp kick with homemade green chilli sauce. To follow, a mound of delicate white Croig-landed crab is piled on plump chilli pancakes and topped with a cuttlefish-ink cracker. Mains could feature a cassoulet, five-hour slow-cooked shoulder of lamb or pan-fried hake with potato and Inverlussa mussel curry. Desserts are down-to-earth, perhaps a take on Eton mess involving strawberries, meringue and crumbled shortbread with a thick meadowsweet custard. The restaurant is BYOB, although guests can pick up wine from Dugie’s shop in the village.

Having scored a palpable hit with Copper & Ink in Blackheath, Tony and Becky Rodd have proved they are no one-hit wonder, quickly establishing Fifteen Square Metres as one of Broadstairs’ must-visit restaurants – ‘it’s like being in their home,’ noted one visitor. The venue's name references its bijou dimensions, so expect a small, contemporary space with just 16 seats and a galley kitchen tucked into one corner of the dining room. Despite the limitations, Tony Rodd has put together a thoroughly enticing package of good-value, generously portioned small plates, which arrive from the kitchen as and when they’re ready. Solid simplicity combined with a creative spirit yields appetising dishes ranging from mackerel tartare with salted celeriac, apple and avocado purée or jerk pork belly pointed up with mango slaw, charred pineapple and crackling. Reporters have appreciated that the whole kitchen is ‘gluten-free’ (right down to excellent bread), while clever desserts including grilled peaches with white chocolate mousse and basil oil, and clever pairings from an astute blackboard of global wines, all add to the feel-good vibe. 

Located in a parade of shops in Liverpool's Aigburth suburb, this Thai café lacks nothing in local support – even midweek evenings are reliably rammed. With a Buddhist fantasy mural on one wall, and staff who are full of smiles and advice, it's a winning formula. Nor does the menu stick rigidly to tried-and-tested Thai classics. Vigorously seasoned dishes built from many ingredients keep the taste buds tingling, with stir-fries of cashews, sweet orange, shallots and chilli jam adding lustre to grilled prawns or fatty pork belly in stinky shrimp paste with asparagus, chillies, garlic and dill. The approach to chilli, often hot as Hades in Thai cooking, is at the subtler end of the spectrum here, but dishes are nonetheless impeccably balanced. A side of stir-fried greens with edamame and chunks of garlic nicely boosts the plain jasmine rice. A short drinks list includes a lime-fragrant off-dry Rhine Riesling, the perfect complement if Singha or Chang beers aren't your thing.

It quickly gained fame and went viral with its homemade kofte and aubergine pitta ‘sandwiches’ – thanks largely to Instagram – but there’s much more to this cosy, personally run Iranian-Iraqi café/bistro on Goldsmiths Row. Set up by Ziad Halub and Farsin Rabiee, Logma (the name means ‘perfect bite’) has really hit the spot: ‘It’s what is missing in London,’ commented one, who was bowled over by the sheer friendliness of the set-up. By day, the place sets out its stall as a welcoming neighbourhood café, serving coffee and pastries, backed up by comforting, home-cooked lunch dishes – slow-braised stews, herb-flecked soups and rice specialities, as well as the aforementioned sandwiches. On Wednesday evenings, it’s all about ‘Logma Lates’, bookable weekly supper clubs (BYOB) serving fusion cuisine from the region to guests seated at communal tables.

With deliciously lazy Afro-Cuban beats on the turntable plus tequilas and Cuban rums in evidence behind the bar, there was a distinct Latino vibe to this diminutive weekend-only spot when we crammed in early one Saturday evening. At the back is a minuscule kitchen where Steve Bishop-Laggett methodically prepares a short, world-hopping, monthly changing menu. Meat takes a leading role (‘we like offal’ states the website) – a fact emphasised by the stuffed animals (foxes, deer and various horned beings) displayed on the wood-panelled walls. Best come as a couple (or a maximum of four) to balance out a meal of, say, a thick slice of beef tongue accompanied by tender chunks of lamb neck, herby green chorizo, and ‘cowboy’ beans in a very rich bone-marrow sauce, refreshingly countered by shrimp ceviche tostada with shredded cabbage, salad, cocktail sauce and radish. A couple of wines (both Portuguese on our visit) augment a short list of spirits and cocktails – the Margaritas are recommended, especially when paired with some cactus fries and prickly pear BBQ sauce.

It may be tiny, with just four tables and a counter across the window, but the Small Canteen has a big heart. ‘Like dining in an old friend’s house,' notes one. The concise menu is squashed and smudged onto a blackboard in Sam Betts’ ever-so-slightly chaotic ship, which is run with immense verve and generosity. Start with good chewy bread plus sprightly dips, before moving on to a bowl of crab broth with tortellini or a heart-warming plateful of braised ox cheek with potatoes, carrots and bacon. Everything here is rich, abundant and delicious. Customers feel 'part of something special’, and tables are so closely packed you get to know your neighbours, who may also provide good reports of puds such as pear and polenta cake with honey and pistachio. We don’t know how Betts manages to pull off such a ‘masterclass of creativity and restraint,’ but we are very glad he does – especially when the blackboard also lists cocktails, juices and organic lemonade. Otherwise, there are organic wines by the carafe and obscure craft beers, too.