Design-led dining rooms
Published 15 October 2025

First find your restaurant. With very little signage and a hidden square to negotiate, diners are unlikely to eat here on a whim; a visit is booked in advance and eagerly anticipated. Billed as an ‘experimental’ venture from Alex Claridge and the team behind the Wilderness, the neutral toned space follows current fashion: no distinction between the fully open kitchen and the dining room; hard surfaces (wall, floor, kitchen counter) and 14 unyielding counter stools providing close-up views of the action – namely the preparation of what is primarily a multi-course, Japanese-inflected seafood tasting menu.

Service is warm and welcoming, but it pays to give careful attention to the announcement of each dish – no menu is offered until you leave. And it’s all effortlessly modern. A tartlet of mackerel is infused with a hint of heat from jalapeño, while slivers of wild, line-caught sea bass are enlivened with a whisper of smoke and seaweed, and the sweetly acidic flavours of yuzu vinegar – just the sort of bite-size morsels one wishes came in a serving of 10. Dishes are inventive but restrained, classical yet able to embrace broader influences: take a simple layering of brown-crab custard with finger lime, apple, white crabmeat and a few leaves of oxalis or a translucent roundel of lightly cured Cornish cod, wrapped in autumn truffle and served in a hot-smoked bone broth with yeast butter and egg yolk.

Each flavour blends tantalisingly with the one preceding it, so a plump, sweet scarlet prawn in a delicate, chilli oil-infused broth (made from the head) might be followed seamlessly by hamachi poached in brown butter with a dashi, sesame and ginger-based broth. Wines are chosen with the food firmly in mind, but given the lack of menu information, wine matching (or tutored advice from the sommelier) seems a sensible way to proceed.

Getting to Glebe House is an adventure in its own right. A series of narrowing country lanes leads north from Seaton, diving about patchwork fields and rummaging through copses, before the house itself materialises – a whitewashed Georgian pile poised high on a grassy slope, set within 15 acres of grounds. Interiors are a study in contemporary country house cool (grandfather clocks and kilim rugs, Welsh dressers and colourful objets d’art), creating a place that is eclectic, eccentric and full of fun.

That spirit extends to the kitchen too – a small and faintly domestic space, where guests can perch on a long rustic table and watch Italian techniques being applied to Devon produce (much of it sourced from the kitchen garden). Head chef David Knapman's late-summer set menu began with antipasti of Glebe salumi with sublimely gooey Vacchino cheese, before segueing into a wonderful zesty octopus terrine doused in sauce vierge, served alongside a salad of beets, figs and blackberries. The faintest West Country accent was detectable in a pasta dish of ricotta and Ticklemore cheese agnolotti, though the kitchen saved the best for last in the form of guinea fowl with sweetcorn and girolles, lathered in sherry and tarragon sauce.

'Dolce' might include tarta di riso (Italian rice cake) with poached rhubarb and yoghurt ice cream or an innovative take on a historic ‘Exeter pudding’ (layers of financier, lemon curd and berries), while an Italian-leaning wine list kicks off with bottles from around £30. Glebe House also offers a range of characterful accommodation – both in the main house and in a cabin in the grounds – for those who would rather postpone their return journey along those narrow country lanes.

With its impressive abstract paintings, café-style furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows opening onto a homely little pavement terrace, effortlessly stylish Gloriosa gives off a seductive Mediterranean vibe on sunny days. Rosie Healey's cooking matches the lively mood with equally sunny sharing dishes that come out swinging as and when they’re ready. An opener of bluefin tuna crudo, chilli, capers and lemon should reawaken any tired taste buds, or you can seek comfort in a dish of roast cauliflower with labneh, saffron and pistachio. Larger plates major in robust pasta riffs including pappardelle with pork ragù and Parmesan, while fish dishes tend to be sturdy, as in braised squid with potato, mussels and aïoli. Alternatively, consider something seasonal and gamey – perhaps whole partridge with squash agrodolce and hazelnut sauce. Desserts veer towards the sharper end of the spectrum, yielding Amalfi lemon sorbet with frozen vodka or raspberry and almond clafoutis. Knowledgeable, very friendly staff manage proceedings admirably. A carefully constructed wine list spotlights small growers, and you might fancy sipping a spicy Margarita before you get started.

Forget the puff on Hampton Manor’s website: there’s not an ounce of flounce in David Taylor’s cooking. He strips down food to its essentials, its essences. The results are deceptively simple – and sensational. Taylor, still in his 30s, has worked in some big-name kitchens, from Purnell's in Birmingham to Maaemo in Oslo, and a Nordic influence is apparent in the minimalist stylings of the restaurant – a modern, airy addition set apart from the hotel itself, with cream walls, dark wooden furniture and bare rafters. Focal points are the walled garden, displayed through large picture windows, and the open kitchen where the final touches are given to dishes before serving. Watch Taylor and his young team: studies in quiet concentration. The atmosphere is casual yet focused, serene yet serious. Diners for Saturday lunchtime's eight-course tasting menu (there’s also a 15-course dinner) are dressed-down, as are the engaging on-the-ball staff; relaxing folk harmonies provide the background soundtrack. Dishes are described at table, sometimes by Taylor himself, and a written menu is supplied with the bill. Lunch might commence with tomato consommé surrounding a solitary cherry tomato, at peak ripeness. Supporting ingredients (smoked lamb’s heart in the broth; sweet cicely garnish) serve to tease out the tomato’s true flavour. Likewise, the following dish: a creamy buttermilk emulsion covering little chunks of leek, with a topping of powdered leek (there’s much freeze-drying here) to pique the palate. Bread from Hampton Manor’s bakery gets its own course, and even diners with modest appetites can relish the two thick slices of irresistible sourdough since carbs are a rarity later on. Next, a highlight: a single, exquisitely tender scallop, its sweetness accentuated by imperceptible honey, topped with strands of its dried roe, plus a broth of roasted mussels to provide some seaside punch. Two little courses of fowl might follow: a juicy slice of wood pigeon matched with an autumnal girolle purée in a sublime sticky pigeon and redcurrant sauce followed by succulent duck breast contrasted with a small liver-rich faggot coated in tangy gooseberry gel. Provenance is important here: much produce hails from the walled garden, suppliers are name-checked and soil-health is a deciding factor in choosing the wines (an enticing list ordered into evocatively named sections and administered by a quietly passionate sommelier). Of the three sweet dishes on offer, mouth-wateringly zesty local blueberries best epitomised Taylor’s approach: served under a luxuriously creamy buttermilk mousse but rooted to the earth by a topping of grassy sorrel powder. Only the finale offered unalloyed indulgence: two brown-butter madeleines with a pot of rich crème diplomat, a blob of rum syrup at its centre. Coherence, innovation, artistry: qualities on which the very top restaurants should be judged. Grace & Savour excels at all three.

Set within 438 acres of Hampshire countryside, Heckfield Place (a renovated 18th-century manor house and farm) is home to two restaurants, Marle and Hearth. Here, culinary director Skye Gyngell has established the hotel’s produce-first culinary framework, which executive chef Michael Chapman and his team put it into practice.

Located in the vaulted former stable yard, Hearth is the more relaxed place to eat, centred on a huge open fire over which everything is prepared. Despite the elemental cooking method, the food is always thoughtful and delicate, but with the fire comes warmth, conviviality and fun. Settle on the sheepskin-draped chairs and choose from a sharing menu, allowing at least two dishes per person – bear in mind they become more substantial as you progress through the list.

Wood-fired flatbread is an exquisite platform for an ever-changing cast of seasonal ingredients – maybe smoked tomatoes, feta and oregano, or roasted squash with brown butter and Spenwood (a firm, raw sheep’s milk cheese from Berkshire). After that, a punchy, umami-rich assembly of stuffed mammole artichoke with pork, green olive and jus vies with grilled purple sprouting broccoli topped with almond, anchovy and apple.

Then come the centrepiece dishes, perhaps subtly smoked brill with Swiss chard and maltaise sauce or showstopping beef sirloin on the bone with chimichurri, and maybe a side of rosemary- and garlic-roasted potatoes. The cooking also has a distinct Italian accent, which runs from saddle of rabbit encased in pancetta with cime di rapa to desserts such as affogato with ricciarelli biscuits or a polenta cake with olive-oil ice cream.

The wine list kicks off with ‘local heroes’ and the estate's own superlative sparkling wine, before cruising through a prestigious global line-up organised by region (with notes on soil characteristics throughout).

Jeremy Chan has settled into his new surroundings in a tucked-away corner of the huge brutalist building that is 180 Strand. The entrance is discreet and the dining room dominated by an open kitchen that runs down one long side, while the decoration is nothing more than earthy colours, some golden wood (including the well-spaced tables) and the ambient dusk of a hip restaurant. Without design, fireworks or ornamentation, it is what it is: a space devoted to the service of food. The previous location in St James’s Market was known for its Nigerian-inspired cooking – Ikoyi is the name of a well-to-do Lagos suburb. The kitchen still takes its cue from West African cuisine, but this is merely the jumping-off point for a repertoire of precise, produce-led westernised dishes with prices very much in line with the international clientele. From the three-hour-long tasting menu at dinner, a veal sweetbread with pea purée, pork cheek and black garlic was the undoubted standout, closely followed by dry-aged turbot with a frothy crab bisque and umami-rich egusi (melon seed) miso – though the tiny accompanying honey-glazed brioche filled with veg added nothing to the dish and was not well thought through (it was so sticky, we had to ask for wipes). What tantalises is how Chan blends each flavour with the one preceding it, and the one about to come. His careful use of chilli, a subtle hint of heat that lingers gently on the palate, infuses snacks and early courses, building to a crescendo with the final beef offering where two dabs of purée (agrodolce and curried courgette) pack a real punch. Look a little deeper, however, and some flaws are evident: that beef (dry-aged Belted Galloway) proved surprisingly chewy, and the accompanying jollof rice – the classic West African one-pot dish that is a regular fixture on the menu – was made slightly too sweet and creamy with a lobster custard. And while a palate-cleansing timur pepper and rosé sorbet was utterly delicious, desserts are clearly not the kitchen’s forte. Service, however, is faultless. Wines are chosen with spice in mind – we drank an excellent South African Gabriëlskloof Elodie Swartland Chenin Blanc 2022.

The line between experience and ordeal is a boundary routinely tested by the modern tasting menu. When the format soars, as it does here, it can be like a symphony. A recent addition to chef-patron Stuart Ralston’s Edinburgh mini-empire, Lyla occupies the townhouse site of the late Paul Kitching’s 21212. A profound sense of occasion lives on, and the standard of service is unimpeachable throughout as the team delivers Ralston's signature 10-course experience. 

Guests are swept upstairs to a beautifully appointed drawing room for Champagne and canapés, which may include an immaculately presented lobster croustade – a masterful balance of crisp, buttery pastry, sweet crustacean flesh and ruby cod’s roe. Expectations set, an enthusiastic introduction follows via the towering, glass-fronted ageing fridges. Downstairs, a sumptuous dining room awaits, blending into an entirely open kitchen at the rear. Bright linens against contrasting, dark drapes and precise, warm lighting give a calm, welcoming intimacy, with a stage-like view of the serene culinary theatrics occurring nearby.

To begin, a single, glorious langoustine is a fat thumb of perfectly sweet flesh, bound in golden threads of kataifi pastry, beautifully balanced by a tart apple ketchup and a salty hit of dried scallop roe. After that, a technically meticulous squid dish arrives masquerading as noodle soup – the flesh dried and pressed before being cut to fine ribbons and drenched in a dark, decadent alium broth. Desserts are equally impressive, and a closing salvo marries a thin, slightly saline, cherry-laced chocolate sponge with a sublimely fresh, bright meadowsweet ice cream. Again, the balance is impeccable, the result utterly sublime.

The star turn, however, is the duck, which we meet briefly before the now-bronzed creature is snatched away for carving. What returns is a flawless crescendo of a dish. The meat is pink and staggeringly succulent, the fat perfectly rendered, and the salty-sweet shard of cross-hatched skin tangy with plum from relentless basting, while a sunflower XO sauce delivers an elegant umami hit. It is scintillating, laborious and exacting to an almost absurd level, and a masterclass in anticipation.

Needless to say, the option of pricey matched wines is a given, though the wine list is well thought out and offers some degree of affordability. While some restaurants feel like a step on a journey to something more, this feels like Ralston’s destination. In Lyla, he has arrived at somewhere spectacular.

David Carter (of Smokestak and Manteca fame) is a dab hand at opening dynamic contemporary restaurants that know how to put on a show where it matters – on the plate. He’s gone all out with his latest opening. Part of a two-tiered operation in Borough Market, Oma sits above its more casual, non-bookable sister Agora, and echoes of the rawness and cacophony of the action at street level add to the vibrancy of the perfectly pitched dining room and covered terrace.

Jorge Paredes (ex-Sabor) heads the open-plan ‘live fire’ kitchen, delivering dishes that are Greek in spirit but also draw inspiration from the southern sweep of the Mediterranean basin. He achieves striking results, attracting hordes of punters intent on grazing on some seriously inventive dishes (booking is a must). The breads are a highlight – believe your server’s enthusiasm, they really are delicious. We teamed some Wildfarmed laffa (hot, fluffy flatbread) and açma verde (a green-flecked bagel-shaped bun) with a creamy mound of labneh topped with salt cod XO, while a serving of smooth houmous came topped with whole, crispy chickpeas, green zhoug and plenty of sumac.

Gilthead bream ceviche in a spiky green tomato and apple aguachile was another knockout dish – likewise squid-ink giouvetsi (squid ragù and orzo pasta), impressively rendered in a prawn-bisque stock to a state of almost criminal lusciousness. But the standout, by a whisker, proved to be spanakopita gratin – a bowl of melted sheep’s and goat’s cheese with spinach, accompanied by malawach (a flaky, Yemeni flatbread). To conclude, a beguiling combination of olive-oil gelato and fennel pollen with extra olive oil made the perfect finale.

The well-considered, 450-bin wine list has treasures in abundance to match the kitchen’s cavalcade of flavours, although there is precious little under £40 a bottle. Still, £5.50 will buy you a 125ml pour from the house selection.

Boasting a countryside setting to match the ‘wow’ factor of his cooking, Merlin Labron-Johnson’s second iteration of his wildly successful Bruton restaurant is a proper destination. With four letting rooms now available, plus kitchen-garden tours, the ever-ambitious chef now affords guests the chance to immerse themselves in the wellspring of his farm-to-table philosophy: the British countryside and its abundant produce.

Looming stark and white in the green Somserset countryside, the new premises occupy a former country pub that has been both stripped back and dramatically extended. The plain walls and bare flagstone floor of the reception lounge, where aperitifs and the first amuse-bouche are served, give no clue to the architectural drama beyond. An almost theatrical space, the main dining area opens directly into the kitchen, housed in a giant glass box looking out across fields at the back. Ask to be seated here so that you can watch Labron-Johnson and his team calmly weaving their magic.

No menus are offered until the meal is finished, but your trust will be repaid by a series of snacks, palate cleansers, pre-courses and specialities that wring extraordinary flavour from the humblest of ingredients – just consider a limpid tomato tea with droplets of grass-green fig-leaf oil, or a clutch of French beans on a pillow of almond cream, accompanying lamb served three ways, each detonating like a flavour bomb in your mouth. Later courses might include a quenelle of melon sorbet in a delightfully refreshing pool of cucumber and shiso water with spruce oil, or churros with meadowsweet ice cream, blackberry compôte and surprisingly pungent marigold leaves. Optional supplements are also available, say a cheese course of Baron Bigod melted over fruit bread, topped with black truffle and drizzled at the table with honey from the restaurant’s own hives.

Excellent service comes courtesy of a small army of cheerfully enthusiastic and highly capable young staff who are happy to chat about suppliers they have visited or what’s growing on the restaurant's two organic smallholdings. The wine list has been greatly expanded, though it still focuses on low-intervention bottles from small producers. Wine pairings remain a good-value choice and are carefully explained by the charming sommelier. We suggest allowing several hours to enjoy the full experience, rounding off with a lazy coffee and digestif.

Housed within the custom-built Design Museum alongside David Mellor’s iconic and award-winning 'factory’, the delightful Riverside Kitchen cuts quite a dash right in the centre of the space. Very good coffee and artisan pastries are standard, but check out the eclectic lunch menu, which could feature anything from Maharashtrian dhal to Persian chicken fesenjan (an Iranian stew with walnuts and pomegranate molasses). There are cracking sourdough toasties too, as well as international brunch classics and an ever-changing choice of salads. Chai lattes, local Thornbridge ales, kochumba and signature Bloody Marys catch the eye on the trendy drinks list.

Discreetly signed and elegantly self-contained, with semi-opaque screening on large windows making it hard to see inside, it’s easy to walk past the below-street-level entrance to Row on 5. But when you leave, you may well think that the move to bespoke premises on Savile Row has given Jason Atherton and executive chef Spencer Metzger greater scope to take on the first division of international dining.

Detailing throughout is exquisite. It all starts in a gorgeous marble-floored bar surrounded by stunning glass-walled wine rooms (with over 4,000 bins, possibly the largest wine collection in Britain). Here, a cavalcade of stage-setting snacks (the miniature work is a delight) are served before you are ushered upstairs to the dining room. Devoid of the fireworks or the ornamentation of the bar, it is exactly what it seems – a generous space devoted to the service of food in supreme comfort. Centre stage, an open kitchen takes up half the floor space where you can watch the substantial brigade of chefs as they plate up, serve and then describe individual dishes to each diner. And the food? The ‘Row’ in the restaurant’s name is an acronym for ‘refinement of work’, not a reference to Savile Row.  It's also a summation of Atherton’s experience, memory and judgement, hinting at cultures that are part of his world – namely, a restaurant empire that has taken in New York, Dubai, Hong Kong, Shanghai, the Philippines and Singapore. 

It all comes together in a 15-course tasting menu, a roll call of prime produce executed with impeccable lightness, intricacy and balance. Suffice it to say, we have enjoyed a panoply of sensational dishes spread over several visits: a Scottish langoustine given layers of flavour with a jelly of sweet Amela tomato seasoned with calamansi, salted duck-egg sabayon, curry leaf oil and Kochi finger lime; aged turbot, lightly steamed, and served with a rich and creamy Albufera velouté enhanced with monkfish liver (an explosion of fresh sharp flavours); and sika deer, cooked over juniper and pine, seasoned with Madagascan pepper then served with crapaudine beetroot, a purée of blackcurrant and a deeply flavoured venison jus. Sweet highlights have included a Mayan Red chocolate sphere with dark chocolate mousse, miso caramel, artichoke ice cream and a coffee and Baileys sabayon. As a telling finale, there's ‘tea and cake’ – financiers made with Okinawa sugar and hazelnut, accompanied by Nicaraguan chocolate tart with sea salt and a tempered chocolate disk melting over the top. 

We enjoyed the process of moving between floors and the interaction between chefs and customers. The attention to detail is also jaw-dropping. There are so many markers of opulence throughout the meal that guests looking for this sort of experience would be very hard pushed to find anything amiss. The impressive wine list is well worth taking time over. It may be punchily priced (there are a lot more bottles over £1,000 than under £50) but wine pairings are exceptional. In short, Row on 5 has the makings of a masterpiece – an immersive experience with many moments of originality and brilliance.

The inconspicuous entrance – look for the pillarbox-red door – doesn’t give much away. Take the lift to the 4th floor and pull back the velvet curtain for the grand reveal. The huge arched windows of Palladian-style Sessions House (once the country’s largest courthouse) flood the former judges’ dining room with light by day, and reflect the flickering candlelight by night. It feels like stepping onto a period film set, the distressed paintwork and salvaged furnishings evoking a faded louche decadence.

Former sous-chef Abigail Hill is now running the kitchen, and her seasonally inspired food captures and reflects the artful aesthetic. The single-sheet roster of Med-accented dishes runs from the diminutive to the substantial and can be enjoyed in a three-course format – though each dish is delivered to your table when ready, so it’s arguably better to approach the menu as a pick-‘n’-mix.

Hill composes the food as much for the eye as for the palate, and any sense of pared-back austerity is banished by seductive richness and decadence: thick, buttery slices of lightly cured trout, properly seasoned and accompanied by a tart cream, heady with perfumed bergamot, for example, or rare onglet with a cloud of finely grated Spenwood cheese, which further heightens the almost gamey umami of the beef. This is well-judged and skilful stuff. Elsewhere, roasted muscat grapes bring bursts of sweet acidity to a winter creation of rich and astutely cooked pork with collard greens.

Vegetable dishes are given minor billing, though offerings such as shards of raw Badger Flame beetroot with walnuts and Jerusalem artichoke purée or a standout combo of purple sprouting broccoli with pistachio crumb and ewe’s yoghurt go a long way to absolving this. To finish, chocolate torte is a worthy Sessions classic. The wine list, supplied by Keeling Andrew (importers, distributors, consultants and founders of Noble Rot), is well-suited to the grown-up Sessions crowd (over-18s only): expect a stylish assortment of crowd-pleasers and hip appellations, plus an impressive by-the-glass range and plenty for those who want to delve a little deeper.

Opened without fanfare or PR bluster towards the back end of 2023, this slick New York Italian is the brainchild of former Soho House COO Martin Kuczmarski, a man who knows a thing or two about running restaurants. From the off, it looks absolutely fabulous, with swathes of Art Deco-inspired wood panelling, proper tablecloths and proper candlelight lending a radiant glow to proceedings. A vinyl soundtrack of 70s disco and soul keeps the good times rolling, although it never intrudes or ruins conversations across the table.

The menu is stuffed with the kind of comfort food that people just love to eat – from lobster rolls, mini hot dogs and bowls of Tuscan minestrone to textbook chopped salad and a raft of pasta classics (spaghetti with meatballs, hot penne arrabbiata etc). Burgers and ribeye steaks are present and correct too, as is ‘The Dover’ sole (suitably finessed with chilli, lime and samphire), while the beef arrosto with mash is up there with the dishes you’d find at the best trattorias in Florence. As expected, desserts hop from New York (baked cheesecake brûlée) to Italy (vanilla panna cotta with summer berries) – and if you fancy a Baileys Shakerato or an Italicus Sgroppino dessert cocktail, they’ll mix that too.

Pre-prandial sips at the bar are a must, and the wine list kicks off at around £40 a bottle, which is reasonable for this part of town. There's also no need to book if you fancy a drink and a snack at the bar out front. In short, this Mayfair hot spot offers some of the best hospitality in London right now, with a side order of irresistible food, in one of the capital’s most alluring dining rooms.

Bang opposite Queensway station, the Park represents the triumphal return of Jeremy King to the London dining scene. Located on the ground floor of a new residential development, it's a warmly inviting space that wears its luxe touches lightly – a place that already feels like an old friend. Booths and banquettes in tan leather, torpedo light fixtures with a touch of Art Deco, colourful prints and wide-screen windows overlooking Hyde Park add up to a seductive ambience, which is further enhanced by a consciously retro menu.

All-day brasserie dining has always been the King thing, an accommodating mode at which his venues have always excelled. A line-up of American favourites – hot dogs, cheeseburgers, lobster rolls, chargrilled ribeyes with fries – sounds the populist note, but consider less obvious choices such as grilled swordfish with sweetcorn and bacon succotash or seared mackerel with caponata. First off, tear and share some soft and savoury ‘monkey bread’, before cruising on to the creamy, briny New England clam chowder. To follow, a golden-brown ham hock pie filled to capacity with pink meat, peas, fava beans and potato under crumbly pastry elicited high fives from one hungry visitor.

Don't stint on the wicked sweet stuff either, especially as the menu invites you to build your own sundae. Elsewhere, Mississippi mud pie has become a kind of dark chocolate cake topped with white chocolate, while the 'red velvet' is an eye-catching classic. Breakfast and brunch are sure to lure in the throngs, as will the neat Negronis – and if you like your wines Italian or North American (and there isn't much of the latter on restaurant lists these days), you've come to the right place. Sicilian house recommendations are £9 for a regular glass.

Despite its setting on the cusp of touristy Covent Garden, Stevie Parle's latest restaurant is one with serious intent. The first thing to note is the design, as shiny and seductive as the sports car in one of the glossy images on the wall: cream cord and chrome cantilever chairs, heavyweight granite ice buckets, curvy oxblood tiled columns and David Mellor cutlery evoke a retro 60s sort of chic – there’s a glamour that takes us back to the Wolseley in its heyday.

While the fun and buzzy dining room can be enjoyed on an entirely superficial level, executive chef Olly Pierrepont leads a sure-footed kitchen, with a menu driven by whole-carcass butchery and a raft of prime produce – some of it carted in from Kent by Parle himself. A strong snack game kicks off with potato sourdough which arrives with a pot of gravy – messy, slurpy, a bit bonkers but so satisfying. Butterflied day boat sea bass with an anchovy and rosemary sauce was simple but perfectly cooked main, while a curry of cod clams and mussels and gentle spices with ghee flatbread was thrilling. Morello cherry clafoutis makes for a satisfying ending.

Unstuffy service was and spot-on and we found the great-value ‘quick lunch’ (snacks plus two or three courses) is worth knowing about.. Martinis might best match the mood but there’s also an accessible line up of modern alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks and a wine list that opens at £38 a bottle.

Newson’s Yard, a new destination for high-end design, is an appropriate location for this remarkably good-looking restaurant from chef Aaron Potter and interior designer Laura Hart. From the gorgeous marble-topped chef’s counter to the marble tiles, light and dark wood furnishings, brick walls, pale blue banquettes and candle-dressed tables to the outdoor seating under the glass atrium, it’s the type of place you don't want to leave.

This is Potter’s first solo project after proving himself an asset at well-heeled neighbourhood dining spots including Trinity and Elystan Street. There's a terrific neighbourhood vibe here too, pepped up by an ‘80s rock and pop soundtrack and engaging, personable service under the judicious eye of Anthony Glaze (also ex-Elystan Street).

The kitchen delivers a wealth of Mediterranean flavours with snacks of fennel salami and Cantabrian anchovy toast preceding starters such as a ravishing stracciatella with violet artichoke, dried apricot and black truffle. Mains prove equally accomplished: grilled Cornish red mullet with softened Grezzina courgettes and salsa verde, or perhaps an earthy surf-and-turf paella of tender rabbit and cuttlefish with a dollop of smooth blood-orange allioli. Baked wild mushroom rice with chanterelles is an enticing veggie option, while crispy ‘holiday’ potatoes are cooked to perfection. Any flaws? There was some heavy-handed seasoning in some dishes, but a dessert of blood orange, almond polenta cake with blood-orange sorbet made for a sweet and satisfying finish.

The all-European wine list deserves commendation too: despite the prime Belgravia postcode, it has plenty of decent bottles below £50. One final tip: any opportunity to head up to the stunning first-floor wine bar should not be missed.

When it's time to get out of town for a day, the Berkshire countryside looks most inviting. Coworth Park at Sunningdale, near the Ascot racecourse, is an imposing Georgian manor house in fondant white, part of the Dorchester Collection and home to a dining destination with a concept name and chef's signature. The room itself is on the anonymous side, done in placid russet and beige, but the culinary intelligence that powers it is irresistibly fresh and exhilarating. Adam Smith mixes his own culinary memories into a contemporary approach that looks to nature for its cues, with foraging on the estate backing up some premium supplies. The technical dazzle with which it's all rendered is astonishing.

The principal menu is divided into four sections: ‘pantry’, ‘larder’, ‘stove’ and ‘pastry’ – we might recognise these as canapés, starters, mains and desserts, but for the fact that there is nothing ordinary about what appears. To cue things off, there are nibbles that look to Asian takeaways for inspiration (a langoustine bun, Thai green crab etc), but also strike British heritage notes with an oxtail toastie and jellied Devon eel. When the first dish arrives, it reveals depths of unsuspected richness, as in a barbecued scallop with smoked roe and golden oscietra, with a top note of bright citrus adding dash. The main business might see a classy double-act of Cornish turbot and native lobster with textured cauliflower, salted grapes and truffle. An alliterative approach proves productive for a Hereford beef dish that comes with a tartare tart, tendon and tea. On the plant-based menu, things are sizzling when heritage beetroot meets three-cornered leek, morels and blueberries.

There is a signature chocolate dish for those who need their fix, incorporating sea salt, crème fraîche and cocoa nibs, while oabika (the cocoa juice concentrate made from the white pulp of the bean pod) goes into a more enterprising construction with macadamias, dulce de leche and lime. An array of ‘treats’ (like the petits fours they might serve in heaven) closes the deal with Jamaican Blue Mountain fudge, mandarin brandy baba, raspberry and Champagne jelly, and the like. The owners have amassed a  wine list to suit the surroundings, with a heartening emphasis on sparklers and still wines from across the southern English counties – although there are, of course, plenty of old-school classics too.