Wined and dined: 19 of Britain’s best wine bars and bottle shops with great food
Published 24 June 2025

Located in the warehouse of Gergovie Wines, 40 Maltby Street is a casual, no-bookings dining spot under Bermondsey's rumbling railway arches – a setting that belies the quality of the food emerging from the very small open kitchen. There's strong commitment to seasonality and provenance across the menu – take a dish of raw mackerel, pickled forced rhubarb and horseradish, which one reporter enjoyed so much they had to order it again straight away. On our most recent visit, a chicken and bacon terrine also hit the spot – the rich pork fat judiciously stuffed with hazelnuts to give a welcome crunch. 

While the model is small plates for sharing, there are a few larger offerings, perhaps confit duck with bitter leaves and potato cake, or crumbed skate with Jerusalem artichokes and pickled chanterelles. Also expect a strong showing of veggie dishes such as roasted pumpkin with chickpeas, crispy broccoli and yoghurt. A short selection of desserts, which always includes at least one sorbet or ice cream, continues the seasonal theme – from a winter offering of marmalade sponge pudding to elderflower jelly with strawberries and a brandy snap in early summer. 

As for drinks, natural wines from low-intervention producers are the stars of the show, and it's worth hanging out at the bar to peruse what's on offer while you wait for a table. Staff know their stuff and demonstrate an excellent knowledge of the extensive list, especially when it comes to the daily changing selection of by-the-glass sips.  In all, 40 Maltby Street is the kind of no-frills eatery and wine emporium that we would all love to have in our neighbourhood.

A useful address on Kingly Street, this tiny corridor of a wine bar – high stools, tapas-style tables, a scattering of outside seating – is the place to come for a glass of wine and tasty, snacky food ranging from plates of Neal's Yard cheese and Cobble Lane coppa to an excellent beef sando (with a vibrant purée of dill and pickled cucumber). An interesting and unusual list of low-intervention wines from European producers, plus a couple of cocktails, keep this relaxed spot nicely buzzing.

Hebden Bridge has always been a hotbed of laid-back cafés and cake shops, but a chic, boho wave has rippled through the stone-built town centre of late: one well-travelled visitor almost felt their compass needle juddering towards Hoxton. That said, the town is still Yorkshire through and through, and here is a place that suits it to a nicety – ‘unfailingly reliable, unerringly delicious, unremittingly relaxed … and brilliant value, too’.

It helps to pronounce Coin in the French manner, as it's on a corner site – a flatiron wedge of a building that was once (what else?) a bank. The decor also lends itself to that high-end vibe, with exposed brickwork, ironwork and plenty of space between the wooden tables. Young, casually dressed waiting staff are a delight, and are efficiently on top of their game.

An inspired and ever-changing sharing menu has plenty of modern brasserie energy, opening perhaps with a clutch of Lindisfarne oysters with lemon and Tabasco or a plate of yellow fine beans, Isle of Wight tomatoes, potato and capers. Wandering into the more robust precincts of the repertoire, one might stumble on gammon with new season’s leeks braised in Sheppy’s cider, while side orders of crispy Maris Peer potatoes with tomato salsa or puffed choux chips dusted in finely grated Parmesan should definitely not be passed up. There are also plates of excellent artisan charcuterie and cheeses (served with quince jelly and a Sevilla cracker). Classic desserts major on set creams and custards.

Fondue Sundays with Bloody Mary chasers sound like fun, likewise the adventurous list of low-intervention wines. In short, ‘Coin has the character, quality and consistency to keep drawing you back… whether it's just for a vermouth, a glass of wine or a long lazy meal with friends’.

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.

‘The highest quality meat and cheese we’ve tried anywhere,’ thought a fan of this popular charcuteria/bar/bottle shop hard by Leeds railway station. The many marvels of the curer’s and cheesemaker's craft are on display via a series of customised sharing boards loaded with artisan classics – from instantly addictive Ibérico secreto and bresaola di Montagna to Baron Bigod and cave-aged Gruyère. A few tapas plates (butter beans in lardo broth, say) are also on offer, along with sourdough sandwiches and affogato, although cured meat (matched with a glass or two of natural wine) is the main reason for befriending this cool, cashless gem. There’s a branch in Ilkley.

Located in multicultural Levenshulme, this small-plates restaurant, wine bar and wine shop has moved to larger premises on the opposite side of the A6. The new place is almost twice the size of the original, and they now have a kitchen bigger than a broom cupboard. That said, owners Caroline Dubois and Isobel Jenkins have replicated the relaxed look and feel of their old venue: furnishings are simple and the colour palate low-key.

The menu is mostly vegetarian/vegan but neither didactic nor absolutist – an occasional chicken sandwich may cause a bit of fuss but the kitchen sticks to its principles, serving up innovative dishes based on organic, seasonal and locally produced food. Sustainability is also more than a token buzzword, while staff have a friendly, personable approach and detailed knowledge of the regularly changing repertoire.

A ‘larger’ plate of fermented potato, celeriac and cavolo nero gratin – a clever variation on a dauphinoise theme – comes with a chicory and orange salad, while smaller plates might range from butternut squash with hazelnut, sage, pickled mushrooms and fried egg to a brightly composed, pastel-hued crunchy salad of cauliflower, sprouts, pomegranate, sesame and mint. To finish, you can’t go wrong with Pump Street chocolate ganache with cocoa nibs and olive oil. Excellent cakes and bakes are also available from the takeaway counter, along with Isca’s own maple-and-rosemary nuts and various gourmet goodies.

On the drinks front, Isca specialises in natural wines, with the emphasis firmly on low-intervention and biodynamic producers. The list also provides a bonanza for those simple souls who delight in collecting wacky labels such as Lunatic (from Frederic Mabileau and Garo'vin in the Loire) and Stop Making Sense (from Fruita Analògica in Girona). 

As the name suggests, this is the perfect drinking spot, whether you're enjoying a bottle of something familiar and reasonably priced with friends or exploring quality wines slightly outside the norm. Yet, though wine is a big focus here, food is by no means neglected – in fact, John Dory offers a masterclass in how to run a new-wave wine bar. Monthly Sunday lunches and steak nights are big attractions, as are the regular collaborations with chefs from near and far. There are special pasta nights too (check Instagram for dates and details). And if you happen to drop by when the kitchen isn't operating and get peckish, order from a selection of locally made pies, sausage rolls, croquettes and more. We promise it’s all good stuff. Rickety wooden tables and chairs confirm the informality of the set-up, and devotees are enthusiastic about the affable service, led by wine experts Louisa Walls and Zeren Wilson. This is a place that serves its neighbourhood well, even if you're just in for cheese, olives and a glass of wine.

How 2020s is this? The place started off as a domestic supper club, before decamping to a Sherwood shipping container and then finding its way to Derby Road through a crowdfunding operation. It appears to have settled in nicely. Inside is a jumble of furniture to either side, with a pathway running between them, and an embarrassment of decorative riches – the work of local artists trying their luck amid a tide of eccentric knick-knacks.

The day's food offerings are chalked up on a board in front of the bar area, and take an enthusiastically global approach. As well as tempting bar snacks, the menu deals in plates of varying sizes, but all portions are fairly generous. Brazilian clam moqueca is suddenly everywhere you look, and it turns up here, alongside the likes of truffled arancini, 'fried spuds and Parmesan cream' or prawn croquettes with tarragon crème fraîche. Our serving of burrata had a lot more going on than is usually the one-note lactic case, being kitted out with rhubarb, almonds, herb oil and bitter leaves. That clam moqueca also impressed us, as did a serving of pork and cabbage dumplings.

When the plates get larger, they grow into the likes of beef brisket in Madeira with horseradish mash or skrei cod in white wine. Finish with frozen chocolate mousse nibbed with candied ginger, or tonka panna cotta with apple and cider compôte. The wine list is all-natural, naturally, and there are cocktails and beers too.

‘It’s a much-needed addition to Aberdeen,’ says one reader, and they are not alone in praising this Italian wine bar and bottle shop. A bright, contemporary space with modish touches throughout, the come-as-you-are ambience seems perfect for working your way through a short, enticing small-plates menu focused on local and seasonal produce, washed down with Italian wines from a modest, well-chosen list. 

Top picks might run from 'tasting plates' of marancini (gently truffled and generously covered in Parmesan) or a sensational quail Scotch egg (perfectly runny) with wild garlic pesto and raw broad beans in a simple oil dressing to slow-cooked pork cheek in two crisp (but quite small) tartlet cases with sweet onion and a Parmesan espuma – in short, honest, good-value cooking with no fancy frills.

Another highlight of our visit was a special of roast quail breasts, the leg meat made into a rich, unctuous filling for a delicate single raviolo, which came with tenderstem broccoli and a sauce that was perfectly pitched to cut through the richness of the meat. To finish, a Sicilian orange posset and its accompanying velvety, sharp rhubarb sorbet was also pitch-perfect, while tiramisu was served family-style as a scoop from a larger dish, with some terrific vanilla gelato. Also expect warm and hugely knowledgeable service from an engaged and proud team. Overall, Mara is just what every neighbourhood needs.

Enveloped in the restaurant quarter of Baldwin Street, a few metres from one of the river crossings, Marmo has been making waves with cooking that takes Italy as its base, but glides into effortless orbit from there. Shared tables and window perches are the drill, and the menu is a single-section document that begins with appetisers and progresses to mains without the joins showing. To start, we were wildly enthused by a single fried gnocco filled with cheese and topped with a melting diaphanous film of lardo – a salty, fatty treat.

Good sourcing of local raw materials is the foundation stone, producing dishes that major on flavour impact rather than twee presentation. A heap of roasted artichoke, radicchio and clementine looked a bit of a jumble, but at the bottom was a slick of delightful hazelnut butter that unified the lot. Meat delivered superlative, properly hung venison haunch in a light stock with celeriac purée and pickled quince in a harmonious support act, while the must-have dessert is a rectangular brick of milky chocolate mousse topped with just-set, cocoa-powdered Chantilly.

Wines by the glass prompt the diner to try out some interesting combinations. Jean-Philippe Fichet's Bourgogne Aligoté made short work of the theoretically tricky artichoke, while the half-fermented fizzing Garnacha at which we baulked initially had its buff tannic muscle flexed by the venison. The full bottle list is impressive, though prices may sit a little uneasily with the hearty informality of the place. On Friday and Saturday evenings, Marmo's new apero bar is open for nibbles and pre-/post-prandial libations.

Sited in a Queen Anne townhouse in Holborn, this was the first of the Noble Rot triplets to emerge, and it established the format to perfection. There is a distinguished menu of Anglo-French cooking, there are small-plate snacks in the bar area, a long counter, walls full of appealing prints, and – not least – a wine list that, from teeny taster tots to bottles of the world's finest, coaxes all palates and pockets to try out new things and celebrate the old.

A reporter who knows his black puddings found nothing but admiration for the Christian Parra boudin noir, served here with chicory roasted in port. That was followed by Yorkshire pheasant with soft, positively gooey polenta given textural heft with chestnuts. Another seasoned diner writes that ‘Saturday lunch is my happy place,’ and where better to spend it than on the set menu here, which offers superb value and unforgettable flavours into the bargain?

It might start with something as simple as egg mayonnaise, a perfectly pitched boiled egg in sumptuous, glossy dressing with an assertive mustard kick, criss-crossed with a pair of Ortiz anchovies. Proceed to a dish of morteau sausage on mustard-strafed soupy lentils, and a wodge of the house sourdough to mop up. On the main menu, things get even classier, when Cornish brill in vin jaune with Alsace bacon competes with Swaledale mutton chops and puntarelle for favour. The bistro desserts rise to the stars for crème caramel with Sauternes raisins or the near-perfect lemon tart, ‘just the right side of mouth-puckering with citrus, then sinking into sweet creaminess’.

The wine list, meanwhile, is worth spending a while with: there are glasses of more obscure and overlooked wines among the first battalions, with Coravin selections of those in their finest array to follow on. Choices across the globe are hardly ever less than excellent, and if you're on a splash, there are few better spreads of Champagne in London.

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

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

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

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

Diminutive, delightful and delicious, Natalia Ribbe’s dinky wine bar and restaurant is a place that firmly ticks the ‘intimate’ and ‘neighbourhood’ boxes. Well away from the tourist bustle of the old town, it’s a palpable hit with locals who come for the laid-back vibe, obliging service and Andy Lowe’s simple, good-value French-accented food. The compact kitchen-cum-dining room, with just 24 seats (there are a few more on the suntrap terrace, weather permitting), means that Lowe has to work single-handed within the confines of a small space, producing a short, flexible menu of appealing dishes that vary with the seasons.

Everyone praises the vol-au-vents, a fixture since day one. Indeed, our mushroom version was a stonking success and proved good snacking with a glass of Grüner Veltliner (on tap). Hispi cabbage with polenta and agrodolce, and a perfectly timed Dover sole with salmon caviar and samphire (the pick of our lunch), sat easily alongside the likes of salt-cod brandade with guindilla chillies, pâté de campagne with pickles, and confit duck leg with lentils and green sauce.

The sourdough bread comes from Oast Bakery, at the other end of Northdown Road, and for dessert look no further than brandy-laced plum clafoutis with vanilla ice cream – though we were momentarily tempted by the cheese plate. The wine list is a short, expertly curated list of natural and classic French, European and South African gems, arranged by style.

On the portico of this elegant Georgian tenement, in handsome serif script, is the single word Spry giving no hint of what’s going on inside, but step through the pillared entrance and you are in what is arguably Edinburgh's most stylish wine bar and bottle shop. To the right, a wall of organic and natural wines; in the centre, a row of stools spaced around an oak-topped, island bar that doubles as the kitchen. The furnishings are sparse – a sofa, a few tables and some handsome chairs.

Matt Jackson and partner Marzena Brodziak are the young couple behind this venture, which opened in 2019 with the aim of stocking wines free of additives and preservatives – a comprehensive range spanning the globe, but predominantly from small producers. Wines are offered by the glass; bottles come with a modest corkage charge. At lunch, we are recommended to try a fresh Kamptal Kolleltiv Grüner Veltliner and an equally sprightly Laurent Saillard Sauvignon-Ugni, Sauvignon Blanc.

Labneh with fresh and pickled cucumber is the opener from a selection of hot and cold small plates that changes daily. This might be followed by an intelligent partnership of cured mackerel and ripe cherries finished with buttermilk. From the hot dishes, we enjoyed aubergine with fava beans and gremolata, as well as a pollock paratha with saffron and yoghurt. A cheese course features Ragstone, Cora Linn or Stilton, each individually paired with crackers, preserves, chutney or pain perdu. Dessert is a cardamom panna cotta with cherries poached in red wine.

Quality sourdough bread and cultured butter (with offers of a top-up) plus a dish of Mignonette peppered almonds completes the line-up for a charming lunch. If you fancy something more substantial, they also offer a five-course set menu for £60 – although you will need to add £50 for wine pairings.

At this pint-sized wine shop, bar and café, it was once a case of turning up and hoping, but an online booking system now ensures the avoidance of disappointment. And disappointed you would be if you were to miss the locally supplied menu on offer here. Start with smart nibbles of anchovy and ricotta crostini or the covetable air-dried mangalitza ham from Coombeshead Farm (with some Coombeshead sourdough on the side).

A spring visitor gasped at the deliciousness of St Eia's take on the classic rarebit, as well as Newlyn crab piled heftily on toast and served with cucumber pickle. Vividly dressed salads might mobilise Stichelton, pear, walnuts, quince and radicchio into a colourful assemblage, but heartier appetites are not neglected either –especially when platefuls of beef bourguignon and mash are at hand.

Neal's Yard cheeses are hard to resist in the context, but sweet things range from lemon posset to mincemeat frangipane tart with clotted cream. An excellent wine list embraces much from the biodynamic and skin-contact universe. A glass of something inspiring might tempt you to take home a bottle of it from the well-stocked shelves.

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

In the heart of Birmingham's Jewellery Quarter, this confident wine and tapas bar thrives on accessibility, warmth and fair value. A vibrant, cramped, white-tiled space with high stools to perch on, it’s the kind of place where ‘you pop in for an hour or two and end up there the whole night’. The kitchen’s repertoire of sharply executed Spanish-inspired food runs from small plates of jamón Ibérico, boquerones and pinxo morú (lamb brochettes) to assorted chargrills – pork chop with PX sauce, a massive chuleton rib steak or whole sardines (priced by weight) with aïoli. The never-off-the-menu Basque cheesecake is hard to trump. Modest prices extend to an illuminating list of Spanish wines.

Above and beyond what you might expect in a little Welsh village, Maryann and Simon Wright’s bijou daytime emporium and eatery showcases local ingredients with a vengeance. The results are seasonal, a little bit different and a touch feisty too. From Thursday to Saturday, the short menu globetrots for ideas, taking in everything from cauliflower pakoras and bowls of ribollita to the signature pork belly Cubano (with Myrddin heritage ham, Hafod Cheddar, pickles and sriracha mayonnaise in a home-baked ciabatta roll). Sunday means brunch with a difference (toad-in-the-hole, anyone?), while rice pudding vies with lemon drizzle cake on the dessert menu. Drinks also cover all bases, from natural wines and artisan Welsh beers to sodas and milkshakes.