21 perfect pies for British Pie Week
Published 04 March 2026

Describing their venue as a neighbourhood restaurant inside a 19th-century pub, the good folk at The Camberwell Arms have an appealing proposition on a busy road that slices through SE5. 'Compelling, simple, seasonal' food is the real deal, served up in relaxed, pared-back spaces where the bones of the old pub remain in its stripped floors, fireplaces and high Victorian ceilings. There's a hatch window out front so drinks can pass to thirsty locals on the pavement, and a private dining room with its own bar at the other end of the spectrum. The gauntlet is thrown down with 'Scotch bonnet pork fat on toast' – a dish of fire and fat, and not for the faint-hearted. Share a few small plates such as semolina gnocchi in a 'bright, fresh' San Marzano tomato sauce or charred onions with artichoke pesto and pistachios; otherwise, stick to the trad two- or three-course format. A bigger helping of grilled fish (wild bream or plaice, maybe) arrives with chips and aïoli, while thinly sliced porchetta is dressed with white peaches and rosemary. Two like-minded people can go for sharers such as half a spit-roast chicken (with blistered hispi cabbage and crème fraîche enriched with chicken fat) or aged Hereford rump steak with anchovy dripping. To finish, a 'beautiful' apricot and chocolate galette with crème fraîche and sour-cherry molasses sent one reader away very happy. Sunday lunches catch the eye with more of those sharers as well as roast potatoes cooked with sage and lemon. The drinking options include cocktails and well-chosen wines (from £26.50).

A gem of a village pub, owned and run by Will Orrock and his wife Cassidy Hughes, where there’s more than a passing nod to the Fergus Henderson (St John) school of cookery. Chef Adam Spicer's menu is brisk – beautiful ingredients are left relatively unadorned, and flavours are full. What a vol-au-vent lacks in flighty height it makes up for in crispness and the springtime deliciousness of foraged morels and wild garlic, and how good to see tenderly seared cuttlefish among the starters, alongside a silken ink-black mayonnaise studded with cod's roe – don't forget to save some of the excellent house bread for mayo-scooping purposes.

A terrine of brawn and ‘blood cake’ is as muscular as its name suggests, but alongside the heft is deft culinary balance from the crunchy bite of radishes and some zippy piccalilli. As for seafood, expect a few luxuries. The delicate flavour of lobster is somewhat swamped by its coronation sauce, although a turbot main course is memorably good. Served with fat mussels, the saline pep of monk’s beard and a gently spiced mouclade sauce, it’s a dish to hurry back for. Local produce stars throughout – from vegetables and leaves courtesy of nearby organic Maple Farm to chocolate from Pump Street or the St Jude cow’s curd served alongside a caramel tart. This is ‘proper cooking,’ notes one reporter.

The Greyhound is also a proper boozer, welcoming drinkers for honest sustenance. Do check out the great-value bar snacks – say Welsh rarebit or a ploughman’s including homemade pork pie and house pickles. Perfect with a pint, or a glass from a wine list which is fit for every occasion – be it a classy Burgundy (a 2021 Saint-Aubin 1er cru ‘Clos du Meix’ from family-owned Domaine Hubert Lamy, perhaps), a steely Austrian Riesling from the Arndorfer winery or a simple lunchtime sip from the Languedoc.

Stablemate to The Heathcock in Cardiff, this snug village pub brims with folksy features: wonky whitewashed stone walls, stripped floorboards, a Welsh dresser loaded with jars of preserved fruits, and a wood burner in an inglenook that contrasts with the polished metal of the open kitchen. The ever-changing menu takes its cue from the setting – traditional by inclination, but shot through with contemporary freshness. Executive chef (and local boy) Tom Watts-Jones previously worked at Fergus Henderson's St John in Clerkenwell, and it shows. Welsh rarebit (unctuous, glossy and perfectly charred) arrives on a chunky piece of sourdough (from the Hare & Hounds Bakery in Cowbridge) with a bottle of Worcestershire sauce on the side, while seasonally attuned starters might range from a thick, silky soup of new-season's asparagus and wild garlic topped with a runny-yolked crispy egg to a fresh, light risotto incorporating plump mussels and more wild garlic. To follow, our braised, crisp-skinned duck leg – an absolutely wonderful combo of crunchy and fatty – was teamed with velvety butter beans, chunky bacon and a rich cider sauce cut through with the spiky brightness of aïoli. We also enjoyed a tender, perfectly rosy hanger steak with flawless chips and a punchy peppercorn sauce. For dessert, dainty brown butter cakes – oven-fresh and nutmeg-spiced, fluffy in the middle and caramelised on top – were a huge hit, as was the almost impossibly thick and creamy honeycomb ice cream. A compact list of European wines offers plenty by the glass or carafe.

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

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

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

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

Aspirational dining in Bury St Edmunds takes off in the shape of James Carn's classy venue, a Lark ascending into the realms of highly accomplished contemporary cooking. There are a few tables on the pavement and the interior is plainly furnished in café style, complete with a variety of soothing pictures, while staff 'make every customer feel special and appreciated'.

A thoroughly modern menu structure furnishes a wealth of choice for nibbles and small plates, the appetisers perhaps taking in truffled-up wild mushroom arancini, egg mimosa or servings of silky-textured coppa. As the plates get larger, the combinations of flavours and textures become more artful and stimulating – as in halibut tempura with seaweed tartare, monkfish cured in ginger and gin, splashed with blood-orange dressing, or beef tartare with a hash brown, jalapeños and sour cream.  The larger plates sound resonant Mediterranean notes: a piece of cod teamed with a fishcake of salt cod and parsley sauce, or equally inviting Ibérico pork presa and confit potato with chorizo jam and harissa jus. The tasting menu encompasses a very inclusive sweep of the range – well worth considering if you're in the mood to kick back and let the kitchen show its paces.

At the finishing line, desserts mobilise vivid fruit flavours for the likes of passion-fruit posset with pistachio granola and yuzu sorbet, although cacao fiends won't be able to resist the coconut-laced chocolate mousse, made with premium gear from Tosier, (a family producer on the Suffolk coast). Wines are an imaginative spread offered at prices it's hard to argue with – even at the top end, where some glittering vinous treasures await.

Famed locally for its food and drink, the Parkers Arms sits on a stretch of the B6478 as it unwinds across the Trough of Bowland, not far from the river Hodder. Locations don't get much more rural than this, and it's all the more gladdening to find the interior hasn't been suffocatingly boutiqued. 

In 2021, The Hairy Bikers stopped in here, and helped turn the curried mutton pie into a viral sensation, and it remains true that the pies are a powerful part of the draw – majestic constructions of exemplary pastry, crusts crimped, the glaze shining them up like burnished armour, the insides generously filled with good things.  Otherwise, fish from Morecambe Bay is worth considering, perhaps roasted sea bass with foraged samphire and Ormskirk potatoes. Start with a single whopping hand-dived Hebridean scallop in a butter of its own roe and garlic, or salt cod fritters in lemon mayo, and close the deal with cherry frangipane tart and matching ice cream.

Simple lunches for intrepid walkers offer sanctuary from the Lancashire rain-pelt. The Bowland brewery's ales are a mainstay of the drink offer,  while wines are an accessibly priced classic selection.

The Latin moniker harks back to a time when this veteran Dean Street site was home to a grandiose, old-school Italian restaurant of the same name. A great deal has changed since the old days, although some original features such as the dining room’s distinctive stained glass front windows remain intact. With the Hart brothers and long-serving chef Jeremy Lee running the show, the food is a sprightly mix of reworked British classics, leavened with French bistro standbys and the occasional Mediterranean riff, while ‘the attention to quality and seasonality is second to none.’  

The menu is a joy to behold – a mock-up broadsheet replete with jokey line drawings and special boxes advertising everything from the much-lauded smoked eel sandwich with pickled red cabbage to the mighty ‘pie of the day’ and specials such as spiced beef with artichokes and Parmesan. Opening salvos given an idea of the kitchen’s repertoire, which spans everything from artichoke vinaigrette to crumbed lamb’s sweetbreads with peas, almonds and mint. Mains of skate with black butter and capers or marinated lamb rump accompanied by sweet cabbage hash and green sauce uphold the British tradition or you could speed off to Italy for a serving of cannelloni, fennel, winter greens and three cheeses. For dessert, sticky toffee pudding has its moment (served with custard and cream); otherwise, consider gooseberry sorbet, lemon posset or ‘les QV profiteroles au chocolat’. 

The wine list takes diners on a whistlestop world tour, although its heart is in the classic French regions, with plentiful by-the-glass options for those on a strict budget. Overall, regulars confirm that the place is still a Soho diamond: ‘No matter when you visit, you can always be assured of an extremely warm welcome and superb service.’

Three decades on, St John appears to have changed not one jot. Still the same whitewashed walls, the same squat wine glasses, the same commitment to ‘nose-to-tail’ cookery. When we visited, there was a dish on the daily menu from the restaurant's second cookbook (published 2007): called simply ‘kohlrabi’, it is simply kohlrabi – albeit mandolined and lavished with olive oil, lemon, capers and chervil. An excellent use of a maligned vegetable, but the £11 price tag speaks of 2025.

There's no doubt that eating at St John can sometimes test your faith. Our beef broth was straightforward enough, but the vegetables looked like they had been chopped by someone’s granny in a rush to get tea on the table (but, oh boy, can granny cook). Likewise, a serving of sea bass was no looker: battle-scarred from a hot pan, it came with slow-cooked fennel in a state of near-collapse and a Pernod-splashed liquor into which some anchovies had long since disappeared. A food stylist would shudder but, again, such flavour!

While some dishes such as the signature bone marrow and parsley salad still resemble exhibits in an edgy east London gallery, others look like they’ve emerged from the kitchen of an old Parisian bistro, where the chef no longer gives a fig about wooing Le Figaro. If they have a pair of tweezers in the cupboard, they’ll be for plucking bristles from pig's trotters, not garnishing quail's eggs with micro herbs. However, a serving of wild boar terrine (with cornichons and excellent sourdough) and a plate of mallard (with parsnips and pickled walnut) both successfully combine sharp looks and keen flavour.

‘Are paper tablecloths and one wine glass for all wines and water taking lack of pretension too far?’ asks one fan. We might say the same about a dessert plate that arrives with a chip in it the size of your thumbnail. That said, puddings are terrific and there are no fewer than 10 to choose from: our lemon pie had sticky, jammy citrus sandwiched between crisp, sugared pie crust, while chocolate mousse was made from first-rate confectionery. The wine list is the type you'd find in a Parisian bistro, with a tip-top house pour, St John Rouge, ushering in a glorious selection from the French regions.

With forested hills sloping onto fields of grazing sheep and the Gothic remains of Byland Abbey towering over the entrance, this pub with rooms is a dream ticket – no wonder it was snapped up by chef Tommy Banks (the Black Swan at Oldstead is nearby). Inside, there’s a little bar with a snug for those wanting a drink, but the main action takes place in the three dining rooms, one of which is the former piggery – an expansive room with beams, giant flagstones and a double-facing log-burning stove, all illuminated by a conservatory-style skylight. The mood is relaxed and staff stay on top of their tasks, while cute details in the handsome finishes speak of Tommy Banks’ pedigree.

The food also makes a connection to the Banks family farm (without labouring the point), and chef Charlie Smith serves up a procession of seriously appealing, modern pub-style dishes – an incredibly original Dexter steak tartare, perhaps, cut into uniform nuggets resembling translucent rubies decorated with grated wild horseradish, fermented peppers and smoked bone marrow. Elsewhere, there might be a light, elegant plate of smoked Pablo beetroot with ewe’s curd, preserved Yorkshire rhubarb and linseed crackers for texture. Some of the meaty main courses such as a pork rib chop with fermented mushroom béarnaise could do with a little finessing, although fish dishes hit the spot – judging by a pitch-perfect serving of cod with a splendid mussel cream sauce and purple-red potatoes on the side.

Everything is executed with flair, professionalism and a deep respect for local ingredients – and that extends to the dazzling roasts served for Sunday lunch (check out the rare-breed Berkshire pork and Herdwick lamb from the family farm, just two miles away). If you're looking for real value, however, order the mighty Dexter cheeseburger with fries, plus a pint of Yorkshire-brewed ale and a shared dessert – say a soft-serve sundae topped with Douglas fir, blackcurrant and white chocolate. Aside from real ale, drinks include seasonal cocktails, homemade libations and a short but decent selection of wines with plenty by the glass.

‘Our local’ noted one reader proudly. For anyone with misgivings about pubs with restaurant inclinations, this urban hostelry should set you straight. As befits a sibling of Southwark’s Anchor & Hope, Stoke Newington’s Clarence Tavern, and the Magdalen Arms in Oxford, the Canton Arms is fully committed to its role as an old-fashioned city boozer. Low-lit and friendly, there’s pretty much a 50/50 split between drinkers knocking back pints of real ale in the front bar and diners in for some consistently delicious food in the dining area at the back.

Ingredients are seasonally spot-on, with the daily changing menu delivering anything from labneh with walnut and pomegranate dressing or crispy blood cake with homemade quince jam to roast hake with crab bisque, steamed potatoes and gremolata or duck confit with Puy lentils. After that, there might be bread-and-butter pudding with praline sauce, which was recently reported as ‘something I dream of weekly’.

It’s all considered good value, and that includes the line-up of drinks, which range from an ‘amazing’ selection of real ales on rotation and an impressive list of classic cocktails to a perfectly judged European wine list.

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.

‘Excellent hosts, great food and great service,’ was one verdict on this inviting vision of stone-built Cotswold rusticity, and they were delighted to see the place packed with diners and drinkers (the pub is a great favourite with Cheltenham racegoers). Outside, there’s a garden geared up for summertime BBQs and beers, while the interior is a mix of polished chesterfields, chunky farmhouse furniture and fancy touches. Above all, the Halfway is known for its appealing blend of rustic charm and modern dining based on finely honed technique and respect for seasonal ingredients.

Opening salvos keep it simple, perhaps a bowl of pea, courgette and mint soup with Otis & Belle sourdough or creamed wild mushrooms on toast with hazelnut and truffle pesto. To follow, home in on the grilled steaks (from Paddock Farm in Lower Brailes), while the famed celeriac and mushroom pie is guaranteed to win over just about anyone. Otherwise, there might be local venison loin with Evesham tomato, courgette and venison haunch ragoût or baked Cornish plaice with new potatoes and samphire. Also look out for the £16 ‘classic of the day’.

Sunday roasts get a resounding thumbs-up from readers, likewise classic desserts such as apple and blackberry crumble or the pub’s famous steamed sponge pudding sticky with black treacle and dates. Ales from the local Donnington Brewery are the drink of choice in the bar, although there are also some zippy cocktails and a fair selection of fairly priced wines.

The team behind the Empire Café reopened this much-loved neighbourhood boozer in spring 2025, and its new guise is respectful of its heritage, ticking all of the proper pub boxes: dark walls and velvet curtains creating a cosy atmosphere, a polished wood bar dolled up with shiny brass accessories, plus a tray of oysters on ice at one end waiting to be shucked to order. The interior of the flatiron-shaped building is lined by a continuous burgundy-leather banquette, encouraging chat between tables of regulars and first-timers. It’s a pub for and of its community. One fan marvelled at the balance of serving 'world-class food' while 'maintaining an air of working-class Leeds'.

The menu nods to pubs of all stripes, from chophouses to Desi to sandwiches-on-the-bar boozers. Bone-in sirloin steaks from Sykes House Farm are ordered in inch-thick increments, cooked on an eight-foot woodburning grill that fires the kitchen – custom-built to fit into a former fireplace – and served with a lick of peppercorn sauce. A dish of smoked mussels in a Pernod-spiked shellfish bisque atop fire-toasted sourdough, has been highly commended, as have Sunday wood-fired roasts of half-chickens or whole beef rump served pink.

A separate selection of bar snacks is enough to tempt anybody – half-pints of shell-on prawns, sausage rolls baked to order and served warm on a paper doily with homemade brown sauce, slices of ham carved off the joint and warmed through on the fireplace with butter-brushed dinner rolls, presented alongside a dedicated mustard menu. And everyone praises the grown-up versions of Black Forest gâteau, brûléed banana split, and other nostalgic puds.

The bar features well-managed cask ales, perfectly poured Guinness, local keg brews and a fridge of Belgian beers, as well as a dozen rotating single malts (all served from optics) with prices ranging from post-work sharpener to post-meal extravagance.

‘The quintessential village pub’ is one visitor's verdict on this handsome Cotswold hostelry with rooms – and we wholeheartedly agree. The ‘Killy’ retains the charm of a cosy local boozer – villagers drink real ale and chew the cud around a wood-burning stove in winter – yet its kitchen produces highly accomplished and full-flavoured cooking.

Diners head for the recently extended restaurant, where flagstoned flooring and stone walls dovetail well with the 17th-century bar. Panache is apparent early in a meal, perhaps with a delicate yet boldly flavoured appetiser of cheese and truffle gougère with a parsley emulsion. A thick little slice of smoked trout could follow, perked up by a zesty buttermilk and lovage sauce poured at table by one of the chatty, clued-up staff. Better still is a hillock of mushroom cream surrounded by celeriac velouté, with slices of cep and crunchy hazelnuts adding to the end-of-year flavours.

Mains are similarly seasonal in style – notably a serving of juicy guinea fowl breast matched with nutty risotto-like pearl barley in a creamy chestnut velouté, the dish piqued by the bitter notes of caramelised chicory. A side of shredded ‘winter spiced’ red cabbage – tangy, sweet, rich – adds to the indulgence. Inventiveness and flair continue with desserts, witness a dark and luxurious chocolate délice, spiced with Szechuan peppercorns. The expertly annotated wine list keeps pace too, with big flavours galore – even in the kindly priced house selections.

The sign outside this whitewashed 17th-century inn – and its logo – reference the local custom of curling on the frozen waters of nearby Loch Kilconquhar, although most attention focuses on the output of the pub's kitchen these days. This part of Fife feels fairly remote, but chef/co-owner James Ferguson is plugged into local supply lines – not least from the Balcaskie Estate, which oversees 2,000 acres of mainly coastal farmland hereabouts.

Menus change daily, depending on what produce arrives at the kitchen door, so expect anything from refined seafood dishes such as steamed razor clams in oloroso to a starter of Shetland lamb offal, fired with pickled chilli and served with yoghurt flatbread. Line-caught mackerel might take its place among mains, grilled and served with horseradish-infused baby beetroot, while russet Tamworths provide the pork chops that are cooked with fennel, onions and sage.

When it comes to finishers, homemade ice creams with oaty shortbread are hard to beat, or look further afield for a sorbet of Amalfi lemons soused in Polish vodka. Drinks include craft beers and cider, plus a short but enterprising wine selection.

There are tables outside for the balmy seasons, and an air of simple rusticity within (complete with candlelight in the evenings) – thanks to co-owner Alethea Palmer, who runs the place with appreciable cheer and a breadth of welcome that extends to pre-advised dogs in the bar area.

An East End boozer from Victorian times, the Marksman exudes the wood-panelled dignity of yesteryear alongside the accoutrements that east Londoners expect to see in today's pub. Ground-floor snackers huddle round candles, nursing fig-leaf and strawberry daiquiris rather than mild ale these days, while the full menu (available upstairs) puts an enterprising kitchen through its paces.

Limber up your taste buds with Porthilly oysters and mignonette dressing (with the Tabasco bottle on hand) or a curried lamb bun with salt lime yoghurt, before a saunter through the day's options. Grilled goat chops with anchovy is the sort of starter you're not likely to find everywhere – best grab it while you can – or there may be duck and Tamworth pork terrine with burnt apple mustard. Anticipating the slap of hot spice, we found the devilled sardines a little on the angelic side, but there was nothing wrong with a handsomely puffed and browned chicken and girolle pie for sharing, served with mayonnaise-lashed chips. Fish possibilities have taken in a lively crew of cod, clams and sea beet, all blown in on a breeze of saffron, and there are (fairly pricey) side-orders of organic Sussex saladings in tarragon buttermilk dressing.

To end things on a nourishing note, try rhubarb frangipane or burnt cheesecake with mirabelles. Wines are served by the small glass, half-litre or bottle, roping in one of the rarer reds of Rías Baixas among a choice of house selections that also includes Provence Viognier and Cinsault rosé.

The venerable Merry Harriers is to be found in the village of Hambledon (not the Hampshire one) near Godalming, a rural enclave set in a buffer of fields and woodland. It has been kitted out to suit the modern mood, with a soft green colour scheme and bentwood chairs at unclothed tables, plus candlelight in the evenings and fires in winter. A menu that exhaustively lists all the kitchen's and cellar's local suppliers inspires confidence, and the food is just what country-pub aficionados want to eat, with plenty of praise lavished on the Sunday lunch offer – a choice of ‘impeccably cooked’ roast platters, piled high and designed for two to share.

On the regular menu, lightly horseradished smoked mackerel pâté might compete with Trenchmore Farm beef tartare and plum ketchup, before mains take flight with some more adventurous ideas. Pork chop with sweetcorn, girolles and pickled walnuts delivered an impressive array of flavours when we visited, the superlative quality of the meat shining forth; a pheasant schnitzel with pickled red cabbage and pink firs was almost as good, although it needed a little more in the way of lubrication than an evanescent suggestion of beurre noisette. A fish option could be baked hake in bouillabaisse with saffron-scented fennel, while pumpkin and spelt risotto with hazelnuts, sage and chilli provides robust sustenance on the vegetable front. 

At the sticky end of things, everybody will feel spoilt by the likes of gingered-up sticky toffee pudding or a version of knickerbocker glory that finds room for chocolate mousse, candied orange and bits of homemade brownie. There's an impressive varietal spread on the carefully compiled wine list, ascending to the majesty of a mature classed-growth St-Émilion at a fraction of what you would pay in the not-too-distant capital.

Hayfield in the Peak District was the birthplace of Arthur Lowe, Dad's Army's Captain Mainwaring, and is a favoured rest-stop for those tramping the Derbyshire hills. At its heart, the stone-built Pack Horse aims to be more than just the standard village pub, with a conscientious ethos of sustainable supplies from local sources, ranging from meat butchered only four miles away to unimpeachable regional fresh produce.

Menus follow the rhythm of the seasons (as celebrated in the kitchen's own cookbook) and the food has the kind of contemporary appeal that makes the place a destination. Glazed High Peak lamb belly appears surprisingly in a starter with a leafy salad and yoghurt, while scallops in brown butter gain an edge from pickled apple and kohlrabi.

Fish is generally handled with assurance, producing a main course of charcoal-roasted halibut with mushroom and smoked bacon bourguignon and pommes Anna accompaniments, while similar inspiration from the French provincial cookbook informs a dish of pork belly with a cassoulet of trotter and beans plus a salsa verde dressing. The charcoal oven comes into its own on Wednesdays, when a special menu includes Barnsley chops and rump steak.

To finish, there might be blood-orange and olive-oil cake with whipped ricotta or salted-caramel custard tart and almond Chantilly. Quality growers abound on the inspiring wine list, which opens with small glasses at £5.70, before darting acquisitively around both hemispheres.

Big, solid and glamorous, this strikingly converted Notting Hill corner pub has proved a stellar blueprint for the rapidly expanding Public House Group since it opened in 2022. In the years since, it has lost none of its appeal as an exceptional neighbourhood hangout.

Provenance is high on the priority list in a menu that is brief in both description and in length (‘chicken, girolles’ or ‘mullet, mussels’) but accompanied by a lengthy run of specials, considerately jotted down onto the paper menu. Spider crab on toast or greaseless battered cod cheeks with luminous curry sauce are two of many ways to arrange a light lunch or kick off a feast that might run on to a bone-in sirloin to share with a fabulously fresh salad of cucumber and sorrel. Standard pub fayre this is not.

To finish, we direct you towards the chocolate mousse, or perhaps parkin and custard for more wintery months. Top picks for drinking include the pub’s signature Allsop’s Pilsner or a pint from Bristol’s Lost and Grounded Brewers. The wine list is carefully curated and offers value at all price points.

Tucked deep within Highgate at its most herbaceous, the Red Lion & Sun makes every effort to appeal to what a dining clientele expects to find in a modern pub. Inside, it's done out in cool light blue, with simple wood furniture and a long bar with stools, plus a glassed-in conservatory room and two open garden areas (with heaters) too. It's as near to the ‘country pub’ experience as a hostelry in the metropolis can get.

A well-drilled team fronts the place, and the kitchen turns out a daily changing menu, updated every morning on the website, and formulated in conjunction with the local Highgate butchers: not surprisingly, the Sunday lunch session is always wildly popular, when prime cuts of 35-day, dry-aged Aberdeen Angus beef are the stars (including côte de boeuf for sharing). Meanwhile, the regular repertoire covers a lot of ground: Korean-spiced chicken wings or Dorset crab served in Basque style suggest a cosmopolitan approach to starters, or there might be chargrilled sardines doused in olive oil, lemon and garlic. Roasts typically take in slow-cooked, properly crackled pork belly with a cloud of buttery mash, but casserole cookery is good too – duck cassoulet appears in its canonical bean stew, elevated by the fat from chunks of smoked sausage. 

Desserts plough a populist furrow, taking in Eton mess, sticky toffee pudding or passion-fruit cheesecake. For those who are already sweet enough, British artisan cheeses come with Dorset pear paste and crackers. A conscientiously curated wine list starts at £8 for a glass of organic Montepulciano d'Abruzzo; there are also good cask ales, and not one but a whole selection of mezcals for the truly intrepid.

Opened under new ownership at the end of 2023, this old red brick pub on a city-centre backstreet has a deceptively large and modern interior. For drinkers, there’s a bar and a cosy snug (along with high-quality real ales and cider on tap), while diners have various options: a section off the bar with round tables as well as seating for couples, a first-floor space (the Gallery) for private parties, and a bright ground-floor ‘Orangery’ overlooking the little urban garden.

Like the decor, the food is contemporary in style – a collection of small and large plates (available all-day on Fridays and Saturdays) served by enthusiastic young staff who also get an honourable mention from readers. There’s ambition here, both in the drinks selection (pairings from the well-thought-out wine list are offered with main courses) and the food, which incorporates fusion assemblies as well as pub food of the burger/meat-platter ilk.

Results can vary, with the stars at inspection being an expertly judged ‘small plate’ of three ox cheek tacos (tender meat and crunchy cucumber salsa, topped with a generous squiggle of spicy chermoula), and a moreish pudding of warm carrot and pecan cake with delectable ‘beurre noisette’ cream cheese and ice cream. Less accomplished was a ‘large plate’ of smoked tofu laksa (one of several diverting vegetarian options), where authentic Asian flavours were hard to discern among the general creaminess. A convivial hubbub and a groovy soundtrack of obscure 60s and 70s tunes (chosen by the staff) add to the vibe, and we've had abundant praise for the Sunday roasts.