Best restaurants in Bath
Published 11 September 2026

This admirable neighbourhood bistro offers astute, seasonal Anglo-French cooking (with a few modern global influences) at affordable prices – the prix-fixe lunch, in particular, offers exceptional value. It’s a low-key, bijou, warm-hearted kind of place, squeezed into the ground floor of a Georgian terrace not far from Pulteney Bridge, with a small private room overlooking the river at the back. Affable service has a quiet confidence that comes from knowing what they’re serving is good, from scallops with kimchi to onglet steak with Café de Paris butter. Our openers ranged from fried polenta on a bed of deeply flavoured wild garlic purée with tapenade and Parmesan to crisp buttermilk quail accompanied by kohlrabi coleslaw and pear ketchup. To follow, sea bream arrived with just-squeaky green beans dressed with a delicate lovage sauce, while a pork chop was served with apple, roast garlic and Calvados sauce. For dessert, poached rhubarb with whipped mascarpone and vanilla crumb brought things to a close. The mainly French wine list provides plenty of affordable drinking, but there are a few pricier options for those who want to push the boat out.

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.

It opened in 2021 but La Terra has the feel of a long-established Italian restaurant, with faithful regulars welcomed as friends and cooking rooted in chef Alessandro Scola's family traditions. He and business partner Vito Scaduto (front of house) worked in some of the locality’s more renowned establishments before teaming up for this project – and it runs like a well-oiled machine, from the on-point service to the thrum of the open kitchen at the back. The interior is light and airy, the pale walls and cool grey of the marble-topped tables warmed by vintage wall lights and red padded seating.

Scola's cooking combines traditional Italian recipes and ingredients with contemporary creative flair. A starter of lamb shoulder croquettes with kumquats and jus lacked crunch but was meaty, full-flavoured and satisfying, while exceptionally good burrata (from Puglia) was fittingly paired with sweet pear, bitter chicory and crunchy, buttery pine nuts. Sourcing is impeccable: a pearly piece of Brixham plaice, cooked just-so and served with fregola, salty-garlicky bagna cauda and earthy Jerusalem artichoke purée was a high point of our visit, while a plate of traditional Roman gnocchi was equally delightful – made with semolina, pan-fried until burnished and served with crispy fried guanciale, sprightly wild mushrooms, butternut squash and unctuous pan juices.

To conclude, an Amalfi lemon posset with curd and burnt white chocolate offered a novel spin on a classic recipe. Wash it all down with well-sourced, mostly Italian wines, including a decent selection by the glass.

Visitors heap praise on this ‘delightfully individual’ boutique restaurant – the kind of place that ‘leaves you feeling you’ve had a special experience’. Don’t let the website’s monochrome picture of a dour Scottish chef or the ‘Great produce. No option’ policy give the wrong impression – dining here is great fun. Pumping music, outrageous decor (a large sign by the open kitchen reads ‘Live Sex Show’) and ‘imaginative dishes presented with enthusiasm and pride’ make it feel a bit like being at a supper club.

That said, there's nothing amateur about Jones’s cooking, which fuses Indian spicing with top-drawer British ingredients across eight inventive courses, starting with a bag of warm home-baked sourdough served alongside Bloody Mary butter and Jerusalem artichoke syrup.

Dining here requires a leap of faith: there’s no menu and there are no substitutions (vegetarians and those with food intolerances must go elsewhere). For omnivores, however, many delights await: say, an espresso cup of extraordinarily rich and velvety mousse, flavoured with chicken of the woods mushrooms (foraged, pickled and dried by Jones) and accompanied by a bite-size vegetable bhaji under a snowdrift of Parmesan. Or how about perfectly cooked tandoori monkfish in a curried cream with apple matchsticks, roast parsnip and toasted pumpkin seeds? Meat could be rose veal with gravy and a comforting but pokey horseradish mash stippled with tiny diced cucumber and candied artichoke.

Puddings range from schoolroom to very grown up, as in a warm apple and medjool date cake in a pool of miso caramel with sea buckthorn sorbet and a sabayon of San Zeno dessert wine. If you don’t opt for the wine flights, choice by the glass is limited but the sommelier will see you right. Service is friendly and personal. You won’t want to leave.

Head chef Chris Cleghorn has been honing his technique in the Queensberry Hotel's basement restaurant for more than a decade now, and things are down to a pretty fine art. If you're looking for inventive, refined and beautifully presented dishes, then his tasting menus (choose anything from three to nine courses) hit the mark. Cleghorn places great emphasis on seasonality as well as provenance, and is rightly proud of the wealth of local produce he can draw on. It is perhaps a shame that cooking of such flair is hidden away below ground in a room which, although well lit and tastefully decorated, is a little characterless. Service is suited and formal, though efficient and helpful. You will not be pouring your own drinks here. Each dish is carefully explained by the kitchen staff as it is brought to the table – a starter of cured trout with wasabi cream, purple radish and apple sorbet, for example. Even the seasonal lunch menu offers overtly opulent ideas such as poached and barbecued Cornish lobster with vanilla salt, fermented sweetcorn, lovage oil, verbena leaves and a frothy, light lobster cream. Cleghorn's technical mastery is showcased in a late-summer dessert involving mildly smoky, intensely flavourful barbecued raspberries with tonka-bean parfait, coulis, fennel strands and 25-year-old balsamic vinegar. The extensive, globetrotting wine list is user-friendly, with an excellent selection by the glass and various bottles grouped by style ('rich, intense, opulent') so you can easily choose something to suit your mood.

This lively family-run venue stays true to the best elements of a treasured British institution. Spread over two levels, it's a slick, upmarket chippy downstairs and a separate, indoor/outdoor upper deck (the Little Scallop) complete with a delightful Mediterranean vibe. Setting the scene is a vintage bathtub filled with ice displaying some of the day’s catch for all to see. We ate in the ground-floor space with its open kitchen, shiny tiling and nautical references – dangling lobster pots, ropes strung across the ceiling. The menu is a mix of chip-shop classics and more inventive restaurant-style dishes, but be sure to check out the blackboard displaying the day’s specials – all based on the freshest fish from British waters. Prawn cocktail and moules marinière are textbook versions, or you could start with a plate of Orkney scallops – cooked to caramelised perfection, topped with fragrant garlic and fresh herb butter served in the shell on a sheet of ‘pretend newspaper’. After that, it’s hard to resist prime North Atlantic cod loin in a crisp, light batter with chunky fresh-cut chips, mushy peas and homemade tartare sauce, but for something different, try half a Start Bay ray wing with salsa verde or monkfish with lemon aïoli. Non-fish options such as spiced chickpea fritters with curry sauce and fennel salad plug any gaps, while desserts focus on classics ranging from sticky toffee pudding (served with a rich caramel sauce) to perfectly bittersweet chocolate mousse. To drink, there’s a decent selection of European wines, alongside beers, ciders and after-dinner libations. 

‘The atmosphere makes you feel special as soon as you walk upstairs’, notes a fan of this charmingly relaxed small-plates bistro above Bath’s deservedly popular Landrace community bakery (famous for milling its Somerset grains in-house). Stone walls adorned with framed posters, high shelves lined with empty wine bottles and scruffy wood floors create a cool, rustic feel that’s matched by the kitchen’s equally rustic flavours. Chef Rob Sachdev’s passion for local sourcing is evident throughout the menu, and sharing is the name of the game, whether you’re into small plates or full-on main courses. Duck mortadella or pot-caught octopus with tomato and bread salad might be one way to start, or you can go big with a winning plate of pasta such as fettuccine with ragù di cortile. Otherwise, get satisfaction from a summery serving of Gotheleny pork with broad beans à la plancha. Desserts, meanwhile, are a great advert for the bakery's patisserie skills, as in pistachio and mascarpone mille-feuille. An adventurous list of natural and biodynamic wines offers a chance to be pleasantly surprised by something new. 

Originally a bakehouse and later a Jägerbomb-fuelled student hangout, Walcot House now attracts a lively crowd with its offer of a clubby dance venue/nightclub, cocktail bar and stylish restaurant. The space is filled with natural light during the day, when locals drop by for breakfast, coffee and light bites, although it has an altogether sexier vibe come evening. The whole place has an exuberant buzz, so get in the mood with an up-to-the minute cocktail from the Dilly Bar, before sampling the restaurant’s wares. Walcot’s owners also run the local butcher’s, specialising in native breeds and ageing all their meat on-site – sample the quality by ordering a well-seasoned beef tartare (complete with capers, silky rich confit egg yolk and some West Country pecorino). After that, a ribeye steak cooked on the bone has a powerful meaty flavour – just add some buttery, garlicky roasties, and baby gem with pancetta and sourdough croûtons in a pleasant Caesar dressing. The kitchen also shows its mettle when it comes to day-boat fish – perhaps seared hand-dived scallops with smoky roasted cauliflower and sweet/salty caper and raisin purée followed by delicate lemon sole embellished with the saline zing of marsh samphire. Desserts are mostly classics such as pain perdu with roasted plums and vanilla Chantilly or Valrhona chocolate mousse with olive oil and smoked salt. The staff get full marks for their warm, welcoming attitude and their seamless attention to detail; they also talk passionately about the wine list – we landed on a ‘lip-smacking’ Cabernet Sauvignon from the Yarra Valley, Australia.

At this tiny six-cover restaurant, chef James Wilkins offers an almost private dining experience, showcasing his mastery of classical French cooking and passion for fine produce, particularly seafood. If you’re one of the many fans of his previous 'Wilks' in Bristol, you will know what to expect, but now it’s a one man show: Wilkins is a genial host who acts as your waiter and sommelier as well as chef, which makes for a unique experience. 'It's like a personal dinner party,' observed one fan.

Wilkins' presence and the stunning quality of the food and wine more than make up for the slightly shabby surroundings of this former art shop in the suburbs of Bath. With only one sitting per service, there’s plenty of time to savour the highly seasonal, ‘exquisite’ and ‘beautifully presented’ tasting menus. Billed as ‘four’ courses for lunch and ‘six’ for dinner, they are complemented by multiple amuse-bouches, canapés, phenomenal home-baked bread and petits fours. Fish features prominently, perhaps a velvety bisque of Scottish langoustines with seaweed brioche and fennel butter to start, or wild John Dory with a black truffle crust, girolles, peas and wild asparagus in a 'sea truffle' butter emulsion.

Elsewhere, meat lovers might consider a canapé of caramelised veal sweetbreads with morels, or breast and leg of pigeon with Roscoff onions, pigeon liver parfait, fresh almonds, chocolate nibs and intensely flavourful sweet-and-sour macerated cherries. To finish, an early-summer dessert could involve raspberries with wholegrain shortbread and crème fraîche ice cream under a wafer-thin wild pepper tuile.

Being able to interrogate Wilkins about the creative process behind each dish as it arrives only adds to the enjoyment. The predominantly French wine list and remarkably good-value wine flights come from small-batch, minimal intervention producers and are of dazzling quality. How long such an intimate operation will remain viable is anyone’s guess – so we strongly suggest you visit soon.

A taste of real-deal Nepalese cooking without having to endure a long-haul flight to Kathmandu, this cheery townhouse basement has all the homespun flavours and authentic artifacts you could wish for. The carte is quite short but group menus offer much more variety – and great value too. Meat eaters might plump for spiced pork momo dumplings, peppery bhutuwa chicken or the YYY lamb suffused with cumin; others could pick butternut squash and braised chickpeas with turmeric or bakula banda (spicy stir-fried white cabbage and broad beans), followed by kesariko dahi (creamed saffron yoghurt with marinated oranges and crushed pistachios). Citrussy Nepalese Kuwa beer is the drink of choice.