Our favourite wine-led restaurants
Published 08 November 2024

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

Part of the Black Rock Group, which also includes the Coal Shed, the Salt Room and Tutto, this remodelled 16th-century coaching inn remains one of the hottest tickets in town. It’s difficult to pinpoint the secret to the restaurant’s continued success because they do everything so well. As one diner noted: ‘Whether an occasion, a Sunday lunch or an early-doors dinner, this bistro can cater for anything’.

With its flint stone walls, open kitchen, dining counter and burnt-orange banquettes, it still feels fresh and stylish (the charming enclosed courtyard is a great spot in good weather). Service is seamless, from the warm welcome at the reception desk to attention to detail at the table. More importantly, everyone seems genuinely pleased to see you. Chef Peter Dantanus’s regularly changing list of small plates combines wood-fired cooking and global influences to beguiling effect.

A simple plate of plump, perfectly cooked mussels served on toast was made memorable by the gentle heat and richness of an Urfa chilli butter. Aubergine, smoky from the wood fire and deeply savoury from the addition of miso had the perfect combination of soft flesh and crispy skin, with a generous topping of crispy shallots, pomegranate and pine nuts adding crunch, while a sour cream dressing lent contrasting richness. Small, waxy skillet-baked potatoes, drenched in a herb cream and showered with gratings of hard sheep’s cheese have been a menu staple since day one and remain a must-order.

Not everything was perfect on our visit: the signature wood-fired flatbread with sesame brown butter was doughy and greasy, while charred grey mullet with buttermilk crab curry was served tepid in a grainy sauce. These did, however, feel like minor mishaps in the context of an otherwise pleasurable experience. The reasonably priced wine list is a bonus, but cocktails including the signature Burnt Orange Martini or something from the Margarita list, are the thing to drink here; the restaurant is open until 1am at the weekend for late-night drinks.

The younger sibling of Covino in Chester is altogether a larger, more aspirational affair. Its greatest USP is the location. Although not the first to fly high in the sky over Manchester's city centre, it keeps the urban panorama centre stage with clean, modern lines and a clever use of the rooftop space. The wrap-around interior provides every frill-free table with a pigeon’s eye view; high chairs border the long counter of the open kitchen. The connecting garden area (note the beehives) provides ample seating to satisfy the Mancunian thirst for sunshine when it appears. Climat describes itself as a 'wine-led' restaurant, a reference to their impressively stocked cellar. Burgundy leads the pack but doesn’t dominate. A Xinomavro 2018 from Macedonia had big flavours that partnered well with a robust dish of lamb leg, roasted cauliflower and kale. Unfortunately, the wine descriptions are generic; a sommelier or more informed serving staff might have helped guide the choice. The sharing-plates menu is a good spread of classic and modern, with a broadly Gallic orientation, plus retro and international references: salt fish beignets with aïoli and herb salad; prawn cocktail with avocado mousse and baby gem vol-au-vents; Tamworth pork chop with flat beans and Pommery mustard. The kitchen shows a deft hand with vegetables and salads, which are often enlivened with bitter notes – a combo of beetroot, whipped tofu, charcoal vinaigrette and mustard cress, for example, contrasted its creamy, light and earthy elements well. But there are slips, too, from an excessively oily dressing on purple sprouting broccoli to a plum tarte fine that proved unremarkable. Luckily, the quartet of well-sourced cheeses (a sheep’s milk St Helena; Roquefort-like sheep’s milk Regalis; a lactic, soft goat’s milk Elrick Log; and raw milk Baron Bigod) proved a better finale. It may be unfair to compare Climat with older sibling Covino (both are relaxed and innovative, without being gimmicky), but at inspection we found the latter offered a much more happy-making experience. 

Corkage has always felt like the kind of neighbourhood restaurant that can give a neighbourhood a good name. The original manifestation was in an engaging tiny space quite a way up Walcot Street and was so successful a larger branch opened in Chapel Row, just off Queen Square. Post-pandemic, only the Chapel Row branch has survived. A long and narrow dining room with chunky wood furniture, bookended by a snug front bar and a timbered and tented rear terrace, it’s instantly appealing, a very attractive operation with rough edges but with its heart in the right place. It works as a wine and small-plates bar, offering great value, breezy, friendly service, and bags of atmosphere. The short, regularly changing menu is reflective of the Mediterranean basin, the seasons, and the chef’s enthusiasms. Thus you’ll find cured-and-torched mackerel fillet with soured cream, vermouth jelly and breadcrumbs alongside lamb sweetbreads with a mix of peas, broad beans and shallots, a dab of labneh and a smear of herb oil. Or there could be slow-braised shoulder of lamb with butter beans, lemon and greens, and nicely charred octopus atop chickpea purée with a red pepper and onion salad. Pudding might be a tart (perhaps lemon with crème fraîche) or a special of burnt Catalan cheesecake. Not the least attraction of the place is the long list of kindly priced wines, a mainly classy Eurocentric coterie with skin contact and 'funky' offerings, plus a good by-the-glass selection.

Reopened in January 2025 after a seasonal refit that brought an extension to the kitchen and a revamped bar area, Erst retains its industrial-chic styling – and still fits seamlessly into the regenerated Ancoats district as a reliable and often inspiring local resource. Patrick Withington is a confirmed exponent of the small-plates approach, and much of what the kitchen turns out is surprising, ingeniously constructed and founded on excellent prime materials. Even the salads score highly for lively mixtures of flavour – witness castelfranco leaves offsetting the creaminess of Corra Linn (a hard sheep's cheese from Lanarkshire), with pear and walnuts in support.

The flatbread that arrives well lubricated with beef fat and scattered with flakes of dried Turkish urfa chilli fully deserves the legendary status it has acquired. Tema artichoke with fermented celeriac in barigoule broth showed a delicate approach to winter warming at our visit, while the skewered lamb coated in ras el hanout butter (another established favourite) was as spicily and fragrantly satisfying as ever. By contrast, skate wing in sherry seemed a clash of mistimed elements, but a dessert of olive-oil cake with ricotta ice cream and candied citron is still a good bet for those who have wearied of salty caramel.

Natural wines are the hot ticket among the drinks, and it's worth gleaning some advice from your server about what goes best with what. Before you get embroiled, though, consider the house aperitif, which might involve celery liqueur and apple shrub in a productive liaison with gin and house vermouth.

‘From “oyster happy hour” to beautifully roasted sharing platters, this place has so many nuances to keep locals coming back, and to drag Edinburgh’s food fanatics away from Stockbridge and Leith,’ noted a fan of this ‘relentlessly good’ neighbourhood bistro in Bruntsfield. Fans of tinned fish and other booze-friendly snacks make a beeline for the broody little wine bar in the basement, although the main action takes place in the bright, unfussy dining room at street level. Despite the postcode, chef-patron Stuart Smith’s cooking is anything but parochial, and he is currently delivering some of the best seafood in the city.

Small plates form the bulk of the menu, backed up by ‘market fish’ specials (perhaps ‘perfectly cooked’ John Dory on the bone accompanied by pak choi, carrots, fries and aïoli). Salt cod mousse with herb oil and grilled sourdough is a fixture, but also look for wonderfully sweet Gairloch langoustines with emerald-hued wild garlic mayo or pickled mussels with carrot, buckwheat and fermented peach hot sauce. Away from the sea, you might find Denhead Farm asparagus with white beans, walnut and guanciale or slow-cooked lamb shoulder accompanied by friggitelli peppers, roasted onion and goat’s curd.

For afters, readers have singled out a ‘suitably tart’ lemon posset and a well-judged chocolate mousse with miso caramel and hazelnuts. The comprehensive but accessible wine list has a distinctly French accent and at least a dozen options by the glass, while a separate, more indulgent 'cellar list' is available for those seeking to mark an occasion – or to create one.

Swans in the middle of Manchester! Who would have thought? But Flawd is on the New Islington Marina, a network of canals and water basins now home to barges and wildfowl, new apartments, green spaces and walkways. The feel is Dutch or Scandinavian, enhanced by a fine-weather terrace. It’s a suitable setting for a contemporary bottle shop, wine bar and sharing-plate eatery of restricted size with a buzzy atmosphere, enthusiastic staff and a funky playlist. As soon as you walk in, you know it’s a place in which to have fun.

The blackboard menu changes regularly and features local and regional ingredients such as Lancaster smoked mackerel, Garstang Blue cheese and ‘big dollops’ of outstanding sourdough bread from neighbouring bakery Pollen. Charcuterie is from Curing Rebels in Brighton, however, although who cares about regional pedantry when it’s this good?

This place has pedigree, and it shows: flair and imagination define the largely plant-focused cooking, which goes big on flavour. Unctuous whipped split-pea dip might be paired with fermented kale or spring onions, while stewed autumn tomatoes are served with ‘nduja and garlic toast. Elsewhere, grilled romanesco is paired with goat’s curd and treviso (‘a deliciously earthy combo’), and assorted brassicas are heaped with autumnal chestnut mushrooms and topped with shavings of cured ox heart (like ‘poor people’s truffle’).

The word Flawd refers to an 18th-century term meaning ‘drunk’, which is fitting as they major on natural and low-intervention wines from small producers. It’s also a trick to disabuse drinkers of the perception that such wines are ‘flawed’. With a range of styles by the glass, it’s easy to delve into this brave new world – and if that lacks appeal, there’s also an excellent choice of craft beer. Note: there are no reservations and no desserts. A flaw, perhaps, but not a fatal one.

After years of pop-ups, this Italian-inspired restaurant group is firmly established south of the river with a permanent spot in Peckham (Forza Wine). Now its most ambitious project to date is to be found on the second floor of The National Theatre. The concrete, wood and glass 160-seater is the place to pop in for drinks – Forza’s special cherry Negroni leads the cocktail charge and there’s an interesting list of approachable, modern European wines including plenty by the glass.

 From the kitchen comes a compact, seasonally aware list of Italian-style small plates to share. To begin, we enjoyed a generous serving of cauliflower fritti with aïoli, as well as a satisfying plate of potato, pancetta and porcini mushrooms. As dishes arrive when they are ready, we happily discovered that roasted Delica pumpkin set atop a pool of creamy pearl barley and sage worked really well with pink, well-flavoured slices of lamb shoulder, celeriac and salsa verde. Each of these items was simply executed and tasted deliciously of its excellent well-sourced ingredients, although not everything we sampled passed muster.

However, there was nothing awry about our milk soft serve with roasted apple and a topping of candied walnut; the famed ‘Custardo’ – an affogato made with custard – is not to be missed, either. While on-the-ball staff check if you are dining pre-theatre, such is Forza’s following that few people depart when the final call sounds for the Lyttelton Theatre one floor down – the atmosphere remains lively. It's also worth checking out the pleasant, partially covered terrace looking onto the river and Waterloo Bridge.

*Chef Philip Limpl has returned to Austria and been replaced by Naples-born Rani Raimondi.*

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.

‘A beacon of freshness and seasonality’ in the elegant environs of Herne Hill, independently owned Llewelyn’s has more than proved its worth as a neighbourhood asset with chef Lasse Petersen at the helm. Large windows flood the pale walls of the dining room with natural light, reflected by gilt-edged mirrors, while the sumptuous leather of the green banquettes makes a naturally inviting place to linger during an unhurried lunchtime. Despite the relative simplicity of the menu descriptions, there is much afoot in the dishes: a rösti is embellished with smoked eel and mustard leaf, while monkfish is given the seasonal treatment with capers, crab and Brussels sprouts.

There are touches of traditionalism too: crisp-skinned pollack might be honour-guarded with mussels and sauced with a rich bisque, while grilled leg of lamb could be dressed with bagna cauda and charred greens. Veggies might fancy something cheesy – perhaps Roquefort with marinated figs, grapes and frisée or a Comté soufflé with creamed spinach and autumn truffle. Desserts play the seasonal card, from a set cream with winter citrus and pistachio to a ‘mince pie’ riff on Arctic roll.

Service exudes ‘unwavering warmth and impeccable hospitality,’ according to one devotee, while an eclectic collection of wines, including a welter of skin-contact gear, adds to the allure. The owners also run a shop and wine bar called Lulu's, next door to the restaurant.

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

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

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

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

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.

*Chef Alberto Cavaliere has left to pursue a new project. He has been replaced by former senior sous-chef Aggelos Kassais, who has returned to head up the kitchen.*

It may have opened in 1991 but Pied à Terre barely shows its age. On our most recent visit, the bijou skylit dining room looked sleek, glossy and plush (although it comes with a relaxed vibe and surprisingly straightforward service) – and it was good to see that the place continues to be a crowd-puller. Indeed, owner David Moore’s reputation for launching the careers of some of the UK’s leading chefs looks set to continue, thanks to the culinary magic of Alberto Cavaliere, who arrived at the beginning of 2025. Cavaliere has simplified the menus, offering a set three-course lunch, à la carte, and lunch/dinner tasters.

Beyond these anchor points, he reveals a true understanding of flavours and textures, partly because of his ability to combine indulgence and lightness – no doubt reflecting his time spent at Marcus at the Berkeley, Robuchon and Sabor. He packs a lot of flavour into an intense hit of ‘tuna’ crudo (aka compressed watermelon) with cucumber ponzu, ditto slivers of Japanese sea bream in 'leche de tigre' with daikon and toasted rice. Sauces are a real strength, playing off against ingredients of outstanding quality, whether a sweet scallop complemented by a dice of rich, softly yielding pork jowl with a light, delicate burnt crème fraîche and Minus 8 verjus sauce adding gentle acidity, or a nugget of cod topped with caviar, smoked eel and Champagne sauce – all reflected in the provision of a spoon with each course to ensure that every drop of sauce can be savoured. 

Like everything else on offer here, desserts are clever and innovative – standouts at our visit being thinly shaved petals of Tête de Moine (cheese) with a pineapple and apple chutney (so simple yet so satisfying), as well as a joyous assembly of white chocolate crémeux, yuzu, lemongrass and basil. A list of truly wonderful wines is presented on an iPad. Should that prove too confusing, a sommelier is on hand to proffer exemplary advice.

For more than a decade, Plateau has been the place in Brighton for natural wines and inventive cocktails. While that still holds true, it’s now firmly established as one of the best places for creative small plates too. Its early reliance on sharing platters of cheese and charcuterie as a sop to all that alcohol is a thing of the past; now, there’s a short, regularly changing menu bursting with deliciousness. Whipped cod’s roe (taramasalata to older readers) paired with the verdant, herbal spicy notes of zhoug is an inspired combination, and we’d return just to eat another bowl of the wonderfully comforting baked mushroom rice topped with a hillock of salted ricotta and breadcrumbs. Elsewhere, a pork and duck-liver terrine featuring perfectly tender, full-flavoured meat and some piccalilli (crisp vegetables and a pleasing mustardy punch) proved that the kitchen can be equally adept with the classics. It might sound over the top to describe a simply dressed green salad with pumpkin seeds as ‘thrilling’, but the rustic assembly of robust, bitter and crunchy English and Japanese leaves from NamaYasai Farm in nearby Cooksbridge was exactly that. The intimate dining room, with its stained glass, bare brick walls, wood floors and eye-catching floral displays is a relaxed, casual space that attracts a slightly more mature crowd (during our visit, at least). Tables, big enough to fit the small plates, are closely set but the jazz and funk soundtrack means your conversation won’t be overheard by your neighbours. If you’re not a natural wine expert, it’s worth asking for advice, as not everything on the list is designed to be a crowd-pleaser – although we enjoyed a reasonably priced and well-made organic Grenache Blanc from Potron Minet in the Languedoc.

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the heart of the glorious Kent countryside, England's leading wine producer offers a full-dress winery experience from vineyard walks to tastings. The essence of the Chapel Down estate, however, has always been its restaurant. Found on the upper floor of the wine shop and tasting room, the Swan has long been a local favourite for a countryside jaunt. Hospitality is a big plus, as is the convivial brasserie vibe and the catch-all Med-inspired menu that runs with the seasons.

Our suitably summery lunch kicked off with tiger prawns on chorizo toast (chilli adding just a hint of heat) and a serving of East Sussex mackerel fillet, cut into chunks and presented atop blobs of ajo blanco with macadamia nuts and dabs of parsley oil. Mains ranged from crisp-skinned chalk stream trout in a puddle of sauce américaine to slices of Romney Marsh lamb rump (cooked pink) with vibrantly green accompaniments of mint and anchovy dressing, courgette and basil. Both dishes were pulled together by a side of pink fir potatoes made absolutely delicious with lightly curried mayonnaise, diced apricot and a liberal sprinkling of chives.

Presentation throughout was a highlight, including the enticing finale: pecan praline parfait with an intense raspberry sorbet, feuilletine and verjus. Estate wines, either by the glass (from £7) or bottle (from £24) are the obvious choice, especially as each dish on the menu has a recommended pairing.

Tucked into one side of the landmark brutalist building that is 180 Strand, Toklas is easy to miss. Just remember it has its own entrance on Surrey Street, opposite the old Strand tube station – if you find yourself outside Toklas Café & Bakery, you’ve gone too far. Set one level above the street, it’s a genuine find – an oasis of calm, especially on a warm summer’s day when a table on the wide, plant-filled terrace is highly prized. The restrained modern interior goes bare on napery and big on concrete, but natural light floods in through huge windows and striking artworks add colour.

The restaurant draws inspiration – and its name – from the avant-garde American food writer Alice B Toklas, but what distinguishes it is a commitment to concise, seasonal and elegant Mediterranean-style cooking. Indeed, the kitchen is noted for its simple, calendar-tuned line-up of dishes based on the freshest of ingredients with classic accompaniments. Those pristine raw materials are handled with a delicate touch, as in a starter of wild sea bass crudo with sweet 'honeycomb' tomatoes offset by dots of salty bottarga, plus a colourfully tangled assembly of black figs, oakleaf lettuce, crunchy hazelnuts, pecorino shavings and honey. Rabbit saltimbocca with a pile of braised chard and a chunk of fresh Amalfi lemon is completely delicious in its simplicity, while homemade pasta is the business: a plate of tagliatelle with Scottish girolles, garlic and parsley showed up well during our lunchtime visit. 

And there’s concord right to the final act: our dessert of gorgeous, perfectly roasted amaretto peaches needed nothing more than a dollop of mascarpone. The innovative wine list is dominated by bottles from the Mediterranean basin. Although there are comparatively few options under £40, drinkers have access to a generous clutch of recommendations by the glass and carafe. Excellent cocktails, too.

In the gentrified hinterland to the south of London Bridge, Trivet has the capacious, calming feel of somewhere on the American West Coast. A small outdoor terrace (with its own summertime menu), a glamorous bar and well-spaced tables set the scene for a smooth operation centred on an open kitchen, where Jonny Lake – formerly executive chef at the Fat Duck – is an authoritative, gentle giant armed with tweezers. Staff are responsive to queries, the sommelier is particularly good with recommendations, and the whole experience is restorative (assuming tootly-flutey jazz doesn't spoil your digestion). 

Nibble on olives, spiced cashews, or long, broad vegetable crackers to get started. The food is all about sharply delineated flavours, with bite from pickled ingredients, salty savour from the likes of kombu and dashi, and combinations that spark the imagination. A braised spiky artichoke dressed in seaweed stock with cauliflower mushroom has plenty of piscine intensity, though it is actually a vegan dish, while dashi stock poured at the table turns a heap of saladings with kombu and gorse flowers into a sharp-dressed escort for panko-crumbed veal sweetbread.

At main course, a spin on duck with orange is composed of livid-pink fatless breast crusted in puffed rice and cracked peppercorns, with Tarocco blood-orange, orange-laced carrot purée, orange and endive salad, and bigarade sauce. An essentially fairly mainstream dish of turbot poached in citrus with herbed Chardonnay butter sauce was less than successfully partnered with chunks of confit Delica pumpkin that would have done better with the duck. A Turkish note is sounded in a small steamed yoghurt sponge coated in sesame seeds for a dessert that comes with vanilla cream rippled with black olive caramel, or there may be a great wedge of griottine and almond tart with fantastic pastry, only let down by very pallidly flavoured pistachio ice cream. 

The wines are an adventurous modern collection, with stars from Turkey and Georgia alongside the skin-contact and 'funky' offerings. Seek the readily forthcoming advice. In a recent development, the owners have launched Labombe, a wine bar open every Monday evening in the restaurant's bar space. Alongside the rich depths of Trivet's full cellar, punters can look forward to a special by-the-glass selection from master sommelier Isa Bal, plus a blackboard menu of snacks and small plates.