Member perks in London
Published 18 June 2024

A little south of Oxford Street, Chantelle Nicholson's Apricity might one day come to define London dining in the new 'twenties'. Amid the plutocrats' boutiques of Duke Street, it styles out its defiant scruffiness, with scoured, undecorated walls, small café tables and light fixtures that look artfully dusty. Low-waste, vegetable-based cooking is the wave of an ecologically anxious future, and if it comes out as innovative and interesting (as it does here), nobody need feel deprived. Artisan farms supply much of the produce, as in a first-course of miso-roasted cabbage with pickled kale in a smoked emulsion. Not everything is vegetarian, however: a generous starter of pollock tartare with pickled kohlrabi, topped with broken linseed cracker, was full of freshness and bracing bite. To follow, there might be something earthy and carb-heavy such as discs of baked celeriac on a carpet of Black Badger peas, given a nice kick with a seasoning of cultured gochujang, or you might go full carnivore with a cutlet and rib serving of excellent lamb, alongside hunks of beetroot and a gentling splotch of labneh (though nothing of the promised mint salsa). Desserts expect you to have left your sweet tooth at home. Rhubarb with raspberry granita and cashew cream goes full-on with vegetal flavours, while the little plum and rapeseed tart, garnished with underripe plum, has little of the almond richness of traditional frangipane. Wines by the glass could do with broadening their horizons – the textures and fruit flavours fall within a fairly narrow band for each colour – but the selections themselves are good. We won't gag at Ferraton's St-Joseph in a month of dreary Sundays. Staff run the place with impressive coolness, not writing anything down. Don't turn your phone off, whatever you do: the menu is accessed via a QR code on a stone, or by navigating to the website.

‘Serving up exceptional curries since 1985,’ Forest Hill’s beloved Babur just keeps on rolling – and it's still the go-to option for locals wanting prettily plated Indian food that’s a cut above your average high-street curry house. It’s also family-run, ‘rooted in the local community‘ and run by kindly staff who give everyone a ‘genuinely warm welcome’. Over the years, it has become increasingly stylish and distinctive, with a hand-painted kalamkari horoscope in the foyer, low-hanging lights, exposed brickwork and wooden partitions holding elaborate floral displays.

Meanwhile, the kitchen scours the Subcontinent for regional ideas while offering dedicated menus for those with special dietary needs. The full repertoire bypasses kormas and dhansaks in favour of more intricate, modern ideas such as goat tikka with a cumin puff and aubergine mash, steamed shoulder of lamb (marinated for 100 hours) with beetroot rice, or spiced stone bass with chana masala yoghurt and papaya chutney. Vegetable dishes and sides are also full of promise – think garlicky spinach with sweetcorn and mushrooms or thinly sliced fried potatoes dusted with mango powder.

To finish, try the milk sponge cake with saffron gel or the chocolate fondant spiced with cumin. On Sundays, Babur’s ‘help yourself’ family buffet is something of a local institution in its own right. The wine list has been knowledgeably assembled with food in mind, but it would be remiss to ignore the zippy Asian-themed cocktails.

The idea behind Behind, Andy Beynon’s restaurant on the ground floor of a new development in London Fields, is to foreground what usually goes on behind the scenes. The restaurant, more spacious than its 18 covers might suggest, is open plan with no distinction between kitchen and dining room, front and back of house. The chefs get to enjoy the abstract paintings and the excellent soundtrack too. No wonder they look happy. Although it’s a self-described ‘chef’s table’ set-up, Behind differs from others of this ilk because the counter is a single high table that curves around the room in a near full circle, quite apart from the culinary workspace. Service is delivered entirely by the chefs themselves who come over only when they have a dish to present or a wine to pour. They know their stuff. Beynon, who has worked under Claude Bosi, Phil Howard, Michael Wignall and Jason Atherton, offers a fish-focused daily ‘menu surprise’ at £98 for an eight-course dinner, £54 for a six-course lunch (tremendously good value). He introduces the concept personally and personably, explaining his approach to ethical sourcing and seasoning (he likes to use seawater, not salt). From a waiter, it’s a spiel; direct from the chef-patron, it’s a statement of belief. The first wave of dishes served at our lunchtime inspection expanded on the statement: an intense shellfish broth made only of prawns and wine; lavosh flatbread pressed with microscopic shrimps (‘bycatch’ that would otherwise be wasted); and a sashimi-like sliver of the powerfully flavoured top side of mackerel cured in tiger’s milk. Did the cured trout in seaweed with bonito flakes and a full-bodied mustard and chive emulsion need a buttery laminated bun on the side? No, not really, but who would turn down such excellent baking. Delica pumpkin tortellini made of duck-egg pasta in crab soup was the pinnacle of the meal: rich, sophisticated, complex, clever. The main course, a take on fish pie, with a beautiful glassy piece of skate, oyster leaf, beurre blanc and trout roe, seemed conventional after the pasta. Standards remained high for an 82% chocolate dessert with ricotta ice cream, sesame and black olives, and an optional cheese course that paired blue cheese with sweet plum jam and a frangipane tart. The wine list goes from £39 to £390, with just a handful below £60. But we’d argue that cooking this confident is worthy of a special bottle.

A ‘very reliable’ Mayfair fixture since 1916, the self-titled ‘grand dame of Swallow Street’ is still shucking oysters with a vengeance under the stewardship of chef/patron Richard Corrigan. These days, regulars agree that its two great assets are the ground-floor Oyster Bar and the spacious gem of a terrace on Swallow Street itself (heated and covered for year-round bonhomie).

If you’re indoors, the best seats are indubitably at the marble-topped bar counter, where you can watch the chefs expertly flashing their thick-bladed oyster knives and doing the business on ‘natives’ and ‘rocks’ from places as far apart as Donegal, Oban and Jersey – although one fan reckons the Pembrokeshire specimens deserve a special mention. Otherwise, squeeze into one of the close-packed tables for a more formal and ‘extremely fresh’ piscine blowout – perhaps scallop ceviche dressed with jalapeño, mint and lime ahead of Dover sole meunière or pan-seared turbot with olive-oil mash and langoustine sauce.

Readers have praised the impeccable Cornish fish stew packed with myriad different species in a tomato and saffron broth, although you can also feast on classics such as fish and chips, fish pie and Bentley’s handsome shellfish platters. Pudding might be crème caramel with Armagnac-soaked prunes or a bitter chocolate mousse embellished with cherries, gold leaf and amaretto. The classy fish-friendly wine list is priced for Mayfair’s big spenders, although it does offer some excellent bargains by the glass.

Ticketholders heading for the nearby Hampstead Theatre take full advantage of the fixed-price supper menu on offer at Simon Bradley’s neighbourhood stalwart, which has been a diamond for the denizens of Swiss Cottage and beyond since 1992. Fans appreciate the fact that the chef serves up ‘excellent ingredients in a relatively simple and unfussy way’ – no wonder locals pack the good-looking dining room with its pastel shades, big contemporary canvases and spotlights twinkling from the ceiling.

Simon’s cooking may have a noticeable French accent, but he buys British – procuring oysters from West Mersea, seafood from Cornwall, lamb from West Country farms and Scottish beef for his Sunday roasts. This translates into dishes such as steak tartare with spiced parsnips and pickled walnut ketchup, wiener schnitzel or gurnard with ratatouille, wilted greens and a side order of gratin dauphinoise.

There is also plenty of finesse on show when it comes to desserts such chocolate pavé or black cherry and orange soufflé with vanilla ice cream – although there’s also traditional comfort in the shape of blackberry and apple tart. Service is ‘spot-on, precise and knowledgeable without being overly formal,’ observed one regular. Prices are ‘exceptionally reasonable’ – and that includes the wine list, which does its job admirably (note the terrific section by the glass).

Brook House may be noisy and lively, but it has kept the warm, welcoming ethos and atmosphere of a pub. It's hugely popular with locals (often with kids and dogs in tow), while close-packed tables mean that you can earwig other diners' conversations – although the noise levels and music aren't to everyone's taste. The menu is full of promise and the kitchen is able to do it justice, while lovely staff are on hand to guide everyone through the oft-changing repertoire (organised by size rather than course). Oysters are always popular, as is steak tartare, although the chef really gets into his stride when it comes to more elaborate ideas: huge grilled red prawns come with kumquat, chilli and an accompanying dollop of miso mayonnaise, while a chargrilled pork chop (with a crisp, melting crust) is made more luxurious by the addition of morels, Madeira and wild garlic. Sides, especially sprouting broccoli with labneh and salsa verde, are excellent. To conclude, millionaire's tart (with crème fraîche from Neal's Yard) is the best-selling dessert, and there are cheeses from La Fromagerie. The wide-ranging wine list has a decent smattering of magnums for special occasions or long, languorous Sunday lunches, as well as good choice of house pours; cocktails are popular too.

* This branch is closing for good at the end of service on 11 October 2024. The Hove outlet remains open.*

With its sun-trap terrace, bright abstract artworks and a menu of firm Italian favourites, this corner site is one of Fitzrovia's premier attractions. It operates a monthly changing menu at kindly prices, served in an atmosphere of warm southern hospitality. There is plenty to ignite the taste buds in a repertoire that roams from burrata with fried polenta, peperonata and hot honey via risotto nero with soused cuttlefish to roasted chicken in its own rich broth with caponata and runner beans. 'The duck ragù,' affirms an experienced correspondent, 'is better than sex.' Other plus points include vegan and gluten-free menus, a midweek dinner offer and a serviceable Italian wine list. 

There has always been something appealing about Richard Corrigan's mission to bring the spirit of his native, rural Irish cooking to the heart of London's West End. It survives its translation largely intact in the form of wild and foraged foods furnished by valued artisan suppliers, via a series of menus that never stand still. ‘The attention to detail is what makes this restaurant different from the others,’ states a reporter, not least because ‘the staff are at hand to ensure the experience is sublime.’

Under head chef Luke Ahearne, the kitchen aims for the stars while keeping its feet firmly on the earth, offering a classic opener such as a fully loaded seafood cocktail of crab, lobster, prawns and brown shrimps or, in true loin-girding fashion, a pigeon pie that incorporates Ibérico ham, foie gras, cranberry, pistacho and pickled quince. Dishes are extravagantly garnished, though without any undue sense of gilding the lily: a majestic main course of wild turbot, for example, might be tricked out with Jerusalem artichokes, pickled trompettes, sea veg and agnolotti of smoked bone marrow, everything on point and playing in harmony.

The game season might provide whole partridge with a pear pickled in vin jaune, but many will find themselves returning (understandably) to the fantastic Irish beef, perhaps in a tournedos Rossini (rich in truffles and Madeira) or a côte de boeuf for two with béarnaise and a slew of creamed spinach.

Lunch and dinner ‘du jour’ menus are devoid of any sense of corner cutting, especially when the finish line is reached via chocolate mousse with malted barley ice cream, or a nutmeg-scented custard tart with pine nuts and raisins. The wine list is vast and authoritative, opening with a changing seasonal selection. Would it be too pernickety to ask for a few more selections by the glass? At least the reds begin with Bruno Sorg's earthy Alsace Pinot Noir at £11.

The atmosphere is casual at this modern, lively restaurant and bar with its polished concrete floor, exposed steel girders and natural timber tables. Popular with young professionals from the area’s hi-tech Silicon Roundabout hub, a meal here is a joyful, head-spinning whirl around the culinary globe. Part of Richard Corrigan’s group of restaurants (Corrigan’s, Bentley’s), Daffodil Muliigan's menu arguably comes closest to representing the freewheeling, eclectic style that helped the chef make his name back in the 1990s. Tuck into the deliciously charred ember-baked bread (a large charcoal grill and wood-fired oven dominate the open kitchen) or the chef's famous soda bread with buttermilk and butter while you choose between more than 30 options on the regularly changing menu. Look out for the signatures: Hereford beef tartare with oyster cream; pig's cheek skewers with tamarind and brown crab chip-shop sauce, and the addictive salt-chilli fried chicken. But there is much else to tempt. A full-flavoured, richly satisfying twice-baked crab and Parmesan soufflé accompanied by a delicately smoky bisque hollandaise perhaps, or a generously proportioned and hugely enjoyable lamb dish – cutlet, loin and slow-cooked belly – served with caponata, black olive crumb and ricotta. For dessert, traditionalists should stick with the classic chocolate fondant with caramel and sea salt; alternatives such as Jerusalem artichoke with chocolate and coffee, or ‘tea and cereal’ (featuring a heavily smoked prune purée with tea-marinated prunes, hay-infused ice cream and puffed rice) may prove a bridge too far. Lunchtime deals are a bargain, service is friendly, efficient and attentive, and the fairly short wine list opens at £30. If the convivial atmosphere gets you in the party mood, head to the atmospheric Gibney’s basement bar for an excellent pint of Irish stout to go with a programme of live music, comedy and sports broadcasts.

Having scored a huge hit with his ultra-hip Caribbean joint Fish, Wings & Tings, globetrotting chef Brian Danclair added a second string to his Brixton Village bow in 2021. His self-styled 'Kitchen' is squeezed in among the shops and cafés of Granville Arcade and brings yet more precision and purpose to his local endeavours, with obvious nods to his Trinidadian roots and culinary travels. He also pays homage to the home cooking of his Venezuelan grandmother, whose face – as a bright, trippy mural – covers an entire wall of the buzzy dining room.

Danclair can often be seen ‘skipping between his two restaurants with a Carib beer in hand’, when he’s not frying his legendary 'cod fish fritters' or lip-puckering chicken wings – ‘tossed gloriously in chilli and glazed with sweet guava,’ according to one fan. Elsewhere, the short menu roams from ‘stew vegetables’ with French bread for soaking up the sauce to grilled pepper calamari with smoked aïoli or headily spiced empanadas (made to his grandma’s recipe and served with a pot of chimichurri).

If something more substantial is required, consider the grilled ‘catch of the day’ or flash-grilled sirloin steak. There are no desserts, but you can always get giddy with the house rum punch (pineapple and orange juice laced with copious quantities of Wray & Nephew).

Adam Handling’s Covent Garden flagship is a crowd-pulling destination full of noise and action, with an organised open kitchen serving up what the man himself calls ‘British food, inspired by London’. Bare tables, hard floors and counter seating are par for the course, while the culinary focus is now on a 10-course tasting menu that aims to take the chef’s zero-waste, ‘sustainability agenda’ to the next level. Proceedings begin with a series of precise, flavour-heavy snacks, ranging from an oyster tartlet abundant with caviar and tempered by cucumber in various guises to a wagyu beef tartare that arrives inside crisp pastry shells, daintily garlanded with flowers. Although most ideas are newly minted, Handling’s signature ‘bread with chicken butter’ remains. After that, there might be a dish of flaky cod (‘with just a suggestion of the sea’), accompanied by a lemongrass foam, celeriac purée, a tapioca cracker and green herb oil. Oddly, the same condiment reappears yet again in a dish of supremely good wagyu beef served with a 'welcome dose of greenery', a blob of English wasabi and a bordelaise-style sauce. The full experience is interspersed with the usual savoury and sweet interludes (including a palate-cleanser involving ice-cold cherry tomatoes sitting beneath a green tomato granita). Dessert itself might be a 'tellingly sound' piece of pastrywork combining white chocolate, pandan and strawberry. Readers have been bowled over by it all (‘course after course of perfection’), while we agree, some dishes are confusing, and the excessive use of herb oil isn’t to our liking. That said, there’s no denying the buzz of the place or the attentivenss of the staff, while the drinks list offers heady cocktails alongside a global wine (and sake) selection that divides up into categories such as ‘quintessential’, ‘esoteric’ and ‘maverick’.

Slip away from the frenzy that surrounds Liverpool Street station into this charming little piece of Paris (formerly Galvin Hop). You’ll find all the expected tropes here: red-check tablecloths, windows stencilled with brass letters advertising ‘bière’ and ‘tarte flambée’, and efficient waiters in blue-striped tops. Order up a bowlful of blistered Padrón peppers, or share one of those snackably crisp tartes. Move on to a chunky pork terrine studded with whole pistachios, sweetened with prunes and perked up with pickles – or a serving of burrata, whose mild softness is invigorated by a draping of Bayonne ham and the charred edge of roasted delica pumpkin. Mains could be a piece of pearly cod on a heap of creamy coco de Paimpol beans with wilted spinach, or Ibérico pork that ripples with flavour-giving fat and comes with celeriac, caramelised apple and chunks of black pudding to create an autumnal feast of a dish – the standout of our October visit. To finish? A classic tarte tatin could fit the bill, or a bright buttermilk panna cotta heaped with blackberries and scattered with shortbread. It’s always good to see wines by the 500ml carafe – in keeping with the Parisian bistro vibe. Look out for the lunchtime prix-fixe – £28 for three courses – if you fancy lingering over a déjeuner that’s easier on the pocket than many similar restaurants.

Through an entrance draped with hanging flora, La Chapelle makes the most instant statement of all the Galvin brothers' venues, and now has a fresh new look to coincide with its 15th anniversary in 2024. Inside, it's a cavernous, high-ceilinged space with swagged marble pillars and sky-high windows, sultrily lit of an evening to ensure that it feels like a proper occasion. Service of exemplary courtesy helps no end as well. The kitchen deals in a style of modern French cuisine with interesting twiddles. A duck terrine of leg and liver comes with pain d'épices of mandarin and coffee, scallops and crab are fashioned into a reimagined lasagne in beurre nantais, and Yorkshire rhubarb turns up with dark chocolate in a sauce for a barbecued Bresse pigeon. Fish could be Scottish lobster in a construction with fregola, buffalo mozzarella, preserved lemon, tuna bottarga and wild rocket. Also look out for new dishes such as a ballotine of Orkney scallop with gambero rosso, squid-ink aïoli, kimchi water and nasturtium oil. The precision of presentations matches the accuracy of timing and seasoning in these dishes, and the same is true of something as textbook as tarte tatin with Normandy crème fraîche, or the satisfyingly liquorous rum baba dressed in blood-orange and Espelette chilli. The 'gourmand' menu comes in a vegan version to show that all may enter the kingdom. Wines are a classy Eurocentric coterie, with a useful range by the small glass from £9.50. Note that the restaurant is open all week and even provides a Sunday lunch.

There had been high-end Chinese eateries in London before visionary restaurateur Alan Yau launched Hakkasan in 2001 but none that had made the concept approachably aspirational rather than simply offering dining rooms for the rich. This 2010 sequel keeps all that was ground-breaking about the Tottenham Court Road original but in a Mayfair location that seems a better fit for the high-octane glamour of it all. A mirror hanging above the staircase to the basement dining room emphasises that this is a restaurant where appearances are at a premium and, from the carved oriental screens and spot-lit tables to the scarily good-looking staff, Hakkasan Mayfair is not somewhere to slum it. Then again, this is food to dress up for. The Anglo-Chinese favourites can be pimped up with luxury produce – the Peking duck comes with the optional addition of beluga caviar – but all the ingredients here are top-notch (as indeed they should be at these prices) and the quality of cooking is unfailingly high. The pork ribs are smoked with jasmine tea, the Singapore noodles adorned with jumbo-sized prawns (rather than the usual sad specimens), soft-shell crab, squid and Dover sole are gently encased in the lightest of batters, while perfectly timed pak choi zings with fresh ginger. Balance is a hallmark of the Hakkasan kitchen, whether the genuinely sweet-and-sour Duke of Berkshire pork (a best-in-class rendition of the clichéd dish), the hot-and-sour crispy freshwater prawns with chillies and cashews (an update of the classic kung po), or the sharp and rich slow-roasted ibérico pork char siu coated with black garlic glaze, mustard dressing and pickled daikon. Wines from the style-led list will at least double the bill, while other drawbacks to dining here include tightly packed tables that allow easy eavesdropping and a throbbing soundtrack that would not be out of place in a nightclub. Natural light makes the ground-floor dining room-cum-lounge bar feel less claustrophobic, not least for daytime dim sum that is some of the best in London. But for special occasions – or any time you just want to feel special – Hakkasan Mayfair fits the sizeable bill.

A hide is where ornithologists conceal themselves to watch the birdlife, and up on the first floor at Ollie Dabbous' Mayfair bolthole, lucky diners have a panoramic view over the expanses of Green Park. In a room done out in neutral tones of sand and stone, the welcome clatter of the Champagne trolley rattling over the wood floor banishes any hint of hush. Menus are a mix of the tasting format and a three-course carte, where caviar variations have their own section. Dabbous' dishes are stamped with the author's personality, with imagination and technical innovation on pyrotechnical display. A first course that matches Tropea onion and Graceburn cheese with textural spins on canteloupe melon is a multi-layered revelation. Lobster is treated royally, the exemplary tender meat offset with a bisque-flavoured purée, pickled fennel and its pollen, plus a sensational beurre blanc cut with curry oil. Monkfish with sweetcorn, sea herbs and truffle makes a fragrant proposition, the fish perhaps having had a couple of minutes too long, but veal sweetbreads are as gently rich as is proper, with plenty of greens and an aromatic sauce of coffee beans. Desserts are positively baffling, seeming clumsy in construction and with a post-ironic hint of Fanny Cradock: a syrup-soaked cherry-blossom teacake (in November) is served with a coupe of vanilla cream and maraschinos. Service can be a little disoriented – long waits for the final bill are always an exasperation. The wine pairings are full of allure, offering such diversions as Czech Pinot Blanc, cherry-sweet vintage Banyuls and Telti-Kuruk, a herbaceous varietal from Ukraine.

A well-trodden restaurant site hard by Chelsea’s Cadogan Hall is the setting for this solo outing from ex-Tamarind chef Peter Joseph. Like Tamarind, Kahani (the name means ‘story’ in Urdu) occupies a high-ceilinged basement room that has been gilded with luxe features (seductive low lighting, stylish wall coverings, crimson banquettes, armchair seating), while food is prepared in an open-to-view kitchen. The chef made his name with a repertoire of dishes that fused Indian spices and cooking techniques with British ingredients – and Kahani’s menu tells a similar tale. Small plates open the show: seared scallops coated in star anise and served with smoked pepper chutney and shrimp pickle is typical, although veggies might prefer the spiced green-pea cake with cranberry chutney. Bigger dishes focus on the chargrill and tandoor, from venison keema accompanied by a truffle naan to grilled stone bass coated with brown garlic and sun-dried tomato purée. Specials and ‘dawat’ (feasting) dishes are also worth a punt – perhaps a chargrilled sirloin kebab with truffle oil, ground fennel and royal cumin. Apart from a ‘medley of kulfis’, desserts are westernised classics – toffee and date pudding with custard sauce, for example. A full vegan menu, pre-theatre deals and even an Indian ‘weekend roast’ are further inducements for well-heeled Chelsea locals, who are also happy to pay handsomely for exclusive spice-friendly bottles from the ritzy wine list.

‘So consistent and so good,’ is one verdict on this relaxed Mayfair offering helmed by established Indian restaurateur Atul Kochhar. The decor transports diners with its cool jazz soundtrack and elegantly themed interiors inspired by the Sikkimese landscapes, while the cooking delves into the lesser-known cuisine of the Subcontinent’s north-east provinces, combining traditional techniques with modern flair.

For starters, regulars rate the chidiya samosa ki chaat (a vegetable mini samosa with smoked yellow-pea curry and chutneys), and it’s also worth seeking out the tandoori monkfish with coconut creamed kale – although the chef’s signature chicken tikka pie (dating from 2006) is the all-round bestseller. Main dishes highlight the Kochhar’s commitment to provenance and British regional produce – as in batak salan (slow-cooked gadwall duck breast with apricot, confit leg samosa, peanut and coconut sauce) or a ‘coastal’ seafood bisque involving red snapper, scallops, tiger prawns and mussels in a spiced broth with caviar. Vegetarian dishes also figure prominently, from jackfruit kofta in coconut korma to fig-filled paneer tikka with baby spinach and rich tomato gravy.

If a sweet finale is required, try the pistachio kulfi with dark chocolate mousse and rose foam. Service is generally attentive, and knowledgeable staff are ‘keen to make recommendations tailored to individual tastes’. There’s a brunch offer at the weekend, while Monday brings a special three-course menu with a carafe of house wine included. The bar is a good call in its own right, and the extensive drinks list spans everything from exotic cocktails to a carefully curated list of spice-friendly global wines. 

Dan Anton and Zaw Mahesh started out with a pokey residency on Maltby Street Market, before transferring their fascinating Burmese cuisine to this bricks-and-mortar site in Shoreditch – a typically stylish spot that’s custom-built for the neighbourhood (metal-grey paintwork, chic patterned upholstery, big square windows, palm fronds, bamboo plants). The look may be regulation East London cool, but the food is geographically (and sensorially) a fusion of Indian, Chinese and Thai – although its signature flavours are unmistakable. The word 'lahpet' means ‘tea’, so it’s not surprising that one of the highlights is laphet thohk (a super-crunchy salad packed with dried shrimps, chilli, raw garlic, double-fried beans and pickled/fermented tea leaves). But there is much more to explore here, from buttery yellow-pea parathas to large plates of slow-cooked pork curry with pickled mustard greens or hake masala on a fragrant rösti with charred lime. Also invest in a bowl of mohinga (catfish and lemongrass chowder with fried noodles). Lahpet’s buzzy vibe, keen prices and clued-up staff tick all the boxes. Drinks naturally include plenty of intriguing teas, as well as exotic cocktails and carefully selected wines.

There’s a lot more competition than when Lardo first opened its doors in 2012, but this industrial-chic venue remains a favourite among the local families and well-to-do professionals of London Fields. While the pizza oven is busy turning out blistered-crust beauties, the kitchen demonstrates 'ristorante' skills with dishes like pig’s head croquette, soft ricotta gnudi as well as creative vegan options. Classic Italian desserts include affogato, tiramisu and panna cotta, while a short, stylish wine list starts with tempting bottles from £28.

From the moment we walked in on a cold January day, we were greeted with warm smiles and immediately felt at ease with the casual vibe that emanates from this neighbourhood gem – a tribute to New York DJ Larry Levan. Inside, the dining space is fitted out with deep-blue walls, mahogany-topped tables, concrete flooring, dark blue banquettes and an open-plan kitchen. And, of course, there's a cool soundtrack.

As for the cooking, expect Austrian chef Philip Limpl's ‘bistronomy’-inspired sharing plates of seasonal, contemporary food. We kicked things off with a hillock of chickpea fries topped with Comté cheese plus some saffron aïoli on the side, followed by beef tartare innovatively paired with persimmon and green peppercorns. Smoked chalk stream trout, which arrived with crushed potatoes, charred tenderstem broccoli and verjus, was light and tasty – another success. To conclude, a chocolate and sticky caramel torte worked surprisingly well with a wild mushroom ice cream (made from fungal ‘scrappings’ to avoid waste).

If you have a fondness for natural wines, then you've come to the right place: there's a wine bar and shop next door, while the comprehensive inventory of organic, low-intervention and biodynamic bottles from across Europe starts from £32. The Jura (a region that often gets overlooked) receives special attention – look for the ‘vin jaune’ jewel, Château-Chalon 1993.

Brixton has a reputation for exciting startups and on-trend eateries, so it’s curious to find a traditional Italian neighbourhood restaurant in this part of town. The venue itself is done out in minimalist style (think exposed concrete, mirrors and dark wood accentuating a couple of large-format artworks) and named after the Maremma, an unspoilt region in the south of Tuscany famed for its sparkling seasonal produce (and its luscious Super Tuscan wines).

The kitchen shows its mettle with a repertoire of classically prepared dishes that are ‘deeply Italian’ rather than ornamental. Pasta is a good call, and it's done to a high standard, from pumpkin pansotti with butter and sage or chestnut tagliatelle with cavolo nero, chilli and new season’s olive oil to pappardelle with a velvety wild boar ragù. Elsewhere, rare-breed meats feature on the specials board and there’s prime seafood in the guise of, say, seared rosemary-encrusted tuna with rocket and aged pecorino. Desserts also offer temptations galore, from Stockwell honeycomb gelato to an ‘epic tiramisu’, while cheeses are artisan Italian beauties served with chestnut honey.

You can see the chefs at work, and everything is served without pretension by a knowledgeable, welcoming team. Reasonably priced Italian cocktails are well worth sipping at the counter, and the all-Italian wine list offers some ‘fantastic selections at affordable prices’. The owners also run Il Maremmano, an ‘apericena’ bar just round the corner on Tulse Hill.

West London’s magnet for the capital’s Ukrainian population nostalgic for a taste of home, this neighbourhood bistro has the bonus of staff who are remarkably friendly and chefs who happily give a cheery hello and goodbye to all-comers. Ukrainian is very much the first language here, amongst both staff and guests, and the menu is proper Eastern European old-school – from pampushka (traditional fluffy garlic bread), salo (salt-cured pork fat) and varenyk (giant raviolo stuffed with braised rabbit) to staples such as a hearty beef and vegetable borsch enriched with traditional accompaniments and ‘satisfyingly squirty’ Kyiv fried chicken (light on salt, heavy on garlic). Wines centre on the Black Sea region.   

True to its name, Nest takes the form of an intimate restaurant nestled amid the hubbub of Old Street: two dozen seats are set around a horseshoe-shaped dining room, stylishly decked out with dusky green walls, ceramic tiled floors, stacked jars and other miscellany. Seasonality is a priority in a broader sense: the restaurant switches between phases roughly every three months – ‘River & Valley’ and ‘Highlands’ were in the pipeline, but on our visit the kitchen had turned all its focus, like the swing of a lighthouse beam, to ‘Sea & Coastline’.

A dozen or so saltwater-themed dishes showed a kitchen capable of playfulness and precise cooking. A rich shot of sea broth was a prelude to monkfish croquette with wild garlic mayo – though the star dish followed soon after: moreish slivers of grey mullet crudo, with sansho peppercorn and notes of sweetness from figs tucked into the mix. Contrasts are presented capably and creatively: in one dish, the smokiness of barbecued kale was offset by creamy St Austell mussels; in another, the delicate flakiness of poached cod was in harmony with the sharpness of yuzu kosho.

Full marks go to the soda bread – served with a dollop of neon-green cultured butter – and a dessert of custard tart with preserved elderflower ice cream that was conspicuously not sea-inspired. The expansive 11-course tasting menu at £90 can contract to seven courses for midweek dinners and lunches for £70 – there’s also the ‘Nest Cellar’, a bar for walk-in drinks when tables are available.

When Ombra opened its doors by the banks of the Regent's Canal back in 2011, today’s gentrification was a long way off. Now this former retail site is custom-built for a taste of Venetian-style bacaro cool. Drop by on spec, have a drink and a snack with some fresh bread from the owners’ bakery Forno – whatever you fancy. It's the perfect setting with its edgy but wonderfully whimsical interior design, tinted floor-to-ceiling windows and heated terrace for alfresco socialising.

Chef Mitshel Ibrahim (ex-Clove Club) conjures up some rare inventions, taking his cue from the traditions of regional Italian small-plates grazing, but adding flavours that are all his own – how about Carlingford oysters topped with startling cherry mustard? As for his light and crispy crostino topped with the most translucent home-cured pancetta, it ranks as ’one of the singularly most delicious mouthfuls I have ever tasted,’ drooled an inspector.

Other prize nibbles might range from a ‘cauliflower mushroom’ (sparassis) with Calabrian chilli and egg yolk to cured mackerel tartare with fennel and blood orange, although you must leave room for some silky hand-rolled pasta. Tagliatelle with well-judged anchovy butter and a generous amount of shaved truffle is a ‘triumph of less is more’, while crab tortelloni with crab ragù and hen of the woods brings delicacy as well as flavour to the table.

The menu also includes a couple of heftier ‘secondi’ too (a show-stopping dish of melting sweetbreads in perfectly balanced pea and mint velouté, say), while classic ‘dolci’ could herald panna cotta with poached pears or chestnut and roasted quince semifreddo. Since ‘ombra’ is Venetian dialect for a weeny glass of wine, it’s no surprise that drinkers have a ‘really interesting’ choice of Italian low-intervention tipples to sample. There are cool spritzs and aperitifs too.

When the wind is whistling through Notting Hill, but you still doggedly want to sit outside, the Portobello has a retractable-roof terrace with heaters and blankets, so you can get well bedded in and let the weather do what it likes. It's just one of the reasons this place has such a loyal following, though the benchmark pizzas might have something to do with that too. Properly puffy in texture, the raised edges blistered a little from the wood oven, their toppings are all about pedigree Italian produce – Spianata Calabrian salami, 20-month Parma ham, creamy burrata, buffalo mozzarella, piccante Gorgonzola. A whole one is fairly filling, but if you've arrived with an appetite, there are preliminary pastas such as spaghetti vongole, or paccheri with veal ragù and pecorino, to prime the pump. Simply prepared fish and meat mains are on hand to tempt any pizza denialists, and meals might end with something like bonet – Piedmontese chocolate custard with caramel sauce and amaretto. Get your bearings with the regionally divided Italian wine map that prefaces the list. Prices might seem a bit tough, but there is a serviceable glass selection from £7.50 for house Sicilian blends.

A former carriage house tucked into a corner of St James's Place in Mayfair, the Stafford is one of the best-kept secrets among London's luxury hotels. It also boasts one of the original overseas American bars inspired by the cocktail wave and the need to escape US Prohibition during the 1920s.

Its current fine-dining venue delivers formality without ferocity (no torn jeans, please), and there is much to admire on the all-day menu. Perhaps pop in a Rockefeller oyster or two while you peruse the options. Steak tartare made with high-grade grass-fed beef, a cured egg and charcoal mayonnaise is the sort of starter to reel in the years, or there might be chalk stream trout in warm tartare sauce. Expect the titular game birds to fly in during the shooting season, although it's also worth contemplating mains such as stuffed venison loin with whisky-glazed celeriac and savoy cabbage. The marine alternatives take in butter-poached lobster sauced with Champagne or curried monkfish tail redolent of garlic and coriander, while a pair of ravenous meaty appetites could confidently set about the majestic beef and bone-marrow pie, at an outlay that might elicit a momentary ‘Good grief!’

It wouldn't be a proper British restaurant without a trolley, and here it comes, loaded with H Forman's smoked salmon. Pyrotechnic tableside action is always welcome, so expect your crêpes to be set alight in front of you – unless you don't mind waiting for a roasted pistachio soufflé with hot chocolate sauce. A pre-theatre menu will see you off safely in time for curtain-up, and you can always take in an after-dinner cocktail on your return. Wines on a list that takes no financial prisoners start at £13 a glass for a Stellenbosch Sauvignon.

From its look, feel, ambience and pricing, there's little to suggest that this high-street restaurant is anything other than a decent independent local (in an area dominated by chains). The room itself, part bare brick with exposed aircon ducts, has a vaguely industrial feel, enhanced by the glimpsed kitchen behind picture windows at the back. A menu of sensible length puts much emphasis on provenance – cod from Shetland, scallops from Mull, tomatoes from the Isle of Wight – and with gentle jazzy pop playing in the background, it all seems quite pleasant and low-key. It's only when the food starts to arrive that you realise the burst of originality that chef Nathan Cornwell has brought to the place. With plenty of top-end experience under his belt (including four years at The Barn at Moor Hall in Lancashire), he has set the bar very high. First comes seriously good sourdough bread with brilliantly green lovage butter, followed by an array of perfect little nibbles ranging from crispy pork belly and a complicated crab mousse to marinated sea trout with glistening pops of its roe and a mini blue cheese and Parmesan canapé – each intensely flavourful and texturally different. A beautifully presented starter of 'ex-dairy' beef tartare revels in its unadulterated meatiness, while duck ragoût, served wittily on turnip spaghetti, is given crunch with a dusting of grated, crispy skin. Lamb is served very pink and tender, alongside a scattering of baby girolles, wild garlic and a crispy sweetbread as accompaniments, while delicate butter-poached plaice is enhanced with a clever deconstruction of a tartare sauce. To finish, expect satisfyingly punchy sweetness from a brown-butter chocolate délice with milk sorbet and caramelised white chocolate, as well as a whimsical Victoria plum, brown sugar and ginger tartlet. Staff are friendly and matter-of-fact. The wine list is very reasonable, with lots of choice by the glass and carafe.

*Anthony Demetre has launched a casual, all-day bistro called the Bistrot at Wild Honey, adjacent to the main restaurant. Watch for a review coming soon.* 

As dining rooms go there can be few more striking than this dramatic double-height space on the ground floor of the Sofitel St James Hotel. It's very grand, in a famous Parisian brasserie kind of way – a smart, polished environment that caters for a well-heeled crowd. Anthony Demetre remains a hands-on presence and a key part in the friendly, welcoming atmosphere that keeps guests coming back for more. His kitchen continues to turn out a mix of French classics with gentle modern touches and a fierce adherence to the seasons. Wild mushroom tart served with a fricassée of wild mushrooms and hazelnut sabayon, or crispy chicken with hand-cut macaroni and black winter truffles, typify the fresh, lively flavours that could be followed, perhaps, by fallow deer and slow-cooked celeriac with walnut and cocoa, kumquat marmalade and a grand veneur sauce. Readers have also praised the Isle of Gigha halibut with white asparagus, tempura of monk's beard, mussel and grapefruit relish. Finish with the signature wild-honey ice cream served with Bermondsey raw honeycomb, warm honey and lemon madeleine, though for some reporters, the sweet comfort of a classic custard tart can’t be beaten. The set lunch and pre-theatre menu is splendid value. There’s a serious dedication to drinks, too, with well-tailored cocktails and a wine list that leads with quality glasses from £6 before undertaking a sweeping global shuffle, lingering longest in France.