Perfect restaurants for Father’s Day
Published 15 June 2026

*Hannah Hall (ex-The Pearl at Park Hill) has taken over as head chef, with Ronnie Aronica moving to an executive chef role.*

Jack Wakelin, chef Ronnie Aronica and house baker Dan Ward are in expansive mood, but their original neighbourhood bar and restaurant in the Nether Edge district of the city is still on song, serving local ingredients with care and referencing the UK's current foodie scene – championing neglected cuts of meat, cooking with fire and adding some nuances inspired by Ronnie’s Italian heritage.

Menus shift with the seasons; in the early part of the year, that might mean sausage and romesco ragù on grilled bread, chalk stream trout with blood orange and sea herbs or smoked leeks with white beans and Gorgonzola. And if you’re in the mood for a slab of red meat, the kitchen can deliver a hearty grilled sirloin steak with pickled walnut and green peppercorn sauce. After that, keep things traditional and local with a serving of Yorkshire forced rhubarb and custard or strike out with lemon tart and Italian meringue.

Most of the action takes place around a polished slab of wood at the heart of the place (the titular ‘bench’), with an open kitchen counter and high tables offering views of Nether Edge’s street action outside. Staff are unfailingly helpful, exceptionally kind and attentive, without any airs or graces - ‘this is no pretentious interloper in humble Sheffield,’  as one regular noted. Readers are also quick to praise the inspired drinks offer, from ‘exquisitely crafted cocktails’ to ‘funky natural wines’ – all served in peak condition. 

With its 'lovely vibe' and 'inventive food', Brassica has undoubtedly given a welcome jolt to the dining scene in Beaminster, which is exactly what its owners Louise Chidgey and Cass Titcombe set out to do. Inside the bay-windowed corner site, the decorative tone vibrates with idiosyncrasy, thanks to brightly coloured prints and plates on the walls and a connoisseur's approach to vivid cushions. Business gets going at the back end of the week, with lunches and suppers Thursday to Saturday, and a well-supported Sunday lunch offering.

Cass Titcombe has a cool instinct for the combination of accented seasoning and lightness of substance that are today's hallmarks, resulting in main dishes such as orecchiette with prawns, agretti and tomato, or a precision-timed halibut fillet with borlotti beans, fennel and spring onions, given creamy pungency with aïoli. The smaller plates have a distinctly tapas-like air, from Ortiz anchovies with sourdough to sliced raw courgette freshly dressed in mint and lemon. Those Sunday lunches proved a winning formula for one couple, who enjoyed the careful treatment accorded to both hake and pork, as well as the inspired choice of veg. If vegetables are to be the main element, they might be roast leeks with pickled mushrooms, lentils and chard.

Desserts are a canny exercise in how simple resources can produce extravagant satisfaction: chocolate and ginger sundae; almond cake with raspberries and crème fraîche; apricot fool; affogato. A small but expertly curated wine selection is packed with on-trend flavours, from Grüner Veltliner to Blauer Zweigelt. Small glasses start at £5, and damn us for pointing out that even the £105 for a bottle of developing Gevrey-Chambertin is hardly an act of grand larceny hereabouts.

Traditional and delightfully untrendy, this trattoria has been serving up a slice of Italy to appreciative locals for more than 20 years. Run by chef Antonio Cersosimo (from Calabria by way of Milan) and Neapolitan wine importer Luca Montuori, the proposition is a picture of regional Italian gastronomy, pairing premium Italian imports with bountiful Welsh produce. 

The concise menu, supplemented by a paper slip of specials, will transport you from the humdrum lookout onto an NCP car park, while charming service invites you to kick back and relax. From the list of antipasti, there might be spinach and ricotta gnudi, or thick-cut bruschetta, messily laden with stracciatella, sweet blistered tomatoes and the peppery undertones of good olive oil. Pasta dishes such as pappardelle with venison and pork ragù rule the mains alongside fresh fish from the market (halibut on our visit) and rosy-pink Welsh lamb rump with Parmesan mash. Dessert might be a simple almond panna cotta or a glass of passito with cantucci. Look out for the good-value lunch menu (£28 for three courses at the time of writing) or, if choosing is beyond you, there's a tasting experience of five courses for £60. 

As for wine, there’s a whole handbook of help available, although it's better to rely on the easy-going, knowledgeable staff when it comes to picking something from the all-Italian line-up. An upstairs dining room is warmly lit for a convivial evening, though we think the toilets could do with a makeover to bring things up to scratch.

Drinks List Of The Year 2024

After two decades cooking in such respected Brighton restaurants as the Coal Shed, the Salt Room and Gingerman, Dave Mothersill has set out his own stall. And what a stall it is. Located close to the Royal Pavilion, this contemporary eatery – mirrors, modernist tables and chairs, parquet floors – delivers cooking that soars far beyond standard bistro fare. Mothersill draws on childhood memories, family and his own travels to create epic set menus peppered with dishes ranging from a jewel-like raw Orkney scallop with ponzu and yuzu, preserved rhubarb, horseradish/elderflower sorbet and peppery marigold leaves to a classy, marshmallow-soft Selim pepper meringue with rhubarb, buckwheat crumble and rhubarb granita. Each course yields vivid flavours, on-point cooking and artful presentation, the ingredients unsurpassed – from line-caught sea bass (cooked just so) with fat asparagus, courgette, pea purée and a sauce of smoked sea bass bones, smoked butter, miso and mirin to pink, tender salt-aged Devon duck brushed with burnt honey and teamed with morels and a sauce made with duck offcuts, hazelnut and Kampot pepper. Seasonality is everything. A springtime creation of confit Jersey Royals, salted gooseberries, straw potato fries, smoked eel and Exmoor caviar, for example, delivers a comforting, clever and unpredictable take on the humble spud. Even the simplest sounding dishes exceed expectations – a feather-light, tear-and-share brown butter-glazed Parker House roll, perhaps, served with wild-garlic butter, or a velvety duck liver parfait topped with sweet, citrussy yuzu. This is cooking that rarely puts a foot wrong – top-grade dining without the stuffiness and pomp. The whole place is relaxed, vibey and cool, driven by staff who know the full story of every dish, from sourcing to plate. An international wine list matches the sophistication of the food, with some excellent local and natural pours catching the eye.

From bar to beer garden, the Heathcock majors in laid-back sophistication: expect simple white walls, reclaimed furniture, a decent selection of beers, and warm, efficient service. Here, informality never equates to idleness, and the same is true of the food, which – for all its rustic edges – is intelligent and considered. A big, chunky sourdough doorstep, say, quilted with the cheesiest, beeriest Welsh rarebit you could wish for, a bottle of Worcesterhire sauce on the side. Or grilled Wye asparagus teasingly dressed in grated Welsh black truffle and breadcrumbs then laid on a swirl of wild garlic purée. Native ingredients are trumpeted: a clutch of fluffy ricotta dumplings luxuriate in a heritage tomato sauce, with chunks of fresh tomato tasting of the summer sun thrown in for good measure. Game makes frequent appearances, as do native fish and seafood: smoked eel might be breadcrumbed, deep-fried and served with horseradish, rhubarb and chard on sourdough toast, while native mussels go Welsh with a leek and cider sauce. This is a small-plates menu, so expect to try at least three dishes each – and be sure to order dessert: a flawless, cloud-like rhubarb soufflé was a ‘sparkling highlight’ for one diner, while a perfectly crisp and syrupy pear tarte tatin delighted another. A good spread of European wines includes plenty by the glass. A recent addition is a Champagne and oyster bar upstairs.

*Higher Farm is closed for the winter season and will reopen for service on 30th April*

When the sun is shining, this simple but artfully decorated barn on a working regenerative farm feels a bit like heaven. The small dining room is flooded with light from a large picture window, while stone walls and a rough concrete floor are given character by earthenware jugs of dried flowers, blackboards listing the month’s harvest, and shelving made out of wine crates. It feels a bit like a pop-up, and the staff greet you like an old friend.

A regularly changing menus showcase the farm’s produce alongside the best of what’s grown or foraged in this particularly bountiful corner of Somerset. Meat and fish in the form of, say, a glistening hunk of ham with smooth buttery mash and a vibrant parsley sauce or trout fillets on a neat plinth of potato salad, share equal billing with vegetable dishes – maybe leeks smothered in a rich rarebit topping and dressed with shards of pickled onion and rye croûtons. You would be a fool to leave without ordering a side of ‘chips’, fat bricks of compressed potato slices, slow-cooked in butter overnight and then deep-fried to crunchy perfection. To conclude, perhaps opt for a light dessert – a quenelle of refreshing rhubarb sorbet, say, or some homemade Neapolitan ice cream. 

The short drinks menu highlights Somerset ciders and English wine alongside inventive cocktails, while a longer list of low-intervention Italian wines chosen by the farm’s owners Matteo and Giacomo Grasso is also worth considering – although by-the-glass options are thin on the ground. 

With the North York Moors unrolling before you like a full-scale map beyond the windows of this converted farmhouse and smithy,  you won't lack for visual ravishment. The village of Goathland will seem topographically familiar from its service as the hamlet in ITV's Heartbeat and the Homestead plays its part too, its low-ceilinged dining areas done in unshowy country style. Chef Peter Neville and his family have put down local roots here, drawing in meat from moorland farmers, fish from nearby Whitby, and a plethora of produce from their own kitchen gardens. Little craft events and guided walks add to the sense that you have dropped in on friends who have put rather more effort into planning your visit than you are used to. The cooking applies modern techniques and combinations to sterling ingredients, beginning perhaps with a faggot of veal cheek and calf's liver on truffled soubise cream, or soused red mullet with baby violet artichoke in bouillabaisse. Main-course meat could be Yorkshire wagyu with confit mushrooms, duck liver parfait and a salad of Yorkshire Blue and watercress – if the fish of the day, served with crab salad and lovage-buttered peas doesn't tempt. Richly enveloping desserts might encompass caramelised lemon tart and local honey ice cream or chocolate and cherry biscuit with candied almonds and crème fraîche. Begin with an elderflower and English fizz cocktail for a true taste of patriotic pastoral. True to its name, Homestead also sports a self-contained holiday cottage for those who want to linger a while.

Farmer's son yearns to be a chef, leaves home to work for the likes of Claude Bosi and Simon Rogan, then returns in 2014 to open his own restaurant in a 16th-century farmhouse next to his family’s 4,000-acre farm. No, not a storyline from Emmerdale, but the backstory of John Duffin. Given the off-grid surroundings (you can hear cows mooing from inside the farm shop), this is the full contemporary bucolic experience – one that is booked weeks in advance.

The first-floor dining room is rustic and homely, mixing exposed brick with wood (beams, floor) and well-spaced white-clad tables. By contrast, Duffin's cooking is refined and he's not afraid to take risks, maxing out his agricultural heritage along the way. In less accomplished hands, an ox sirloin tartare paired with pumpkin-seed emulsion and a smoky/salty charcoal and grilled cream could have been muddled – instead, it's a triumph. Other recent highlights have included a delicate truffle pudding accompanied by a soup of wild garlic and Beauvale Blue cheese, as well as poached halibut topped with asparagus and morels, paired with tapenade and elevated by a salted lemon sauce. We could also taste every component involved in a dish of home-reared Leicester Longwool hogget (shoulder and belly), bursting with flavour and served alongside allium, wild garlic, Jersey Royals and a full-bone reduction split with oil.

To start, some homemade charcuterie, plus a freshly baked onion and rosemary roll and soda bread (perfect with salty wild garlic butter as well as a creamy butter made smoother by the addition of a little yoghurt) was so good that we had to stop ourselves from eating more. To conclude, a scoop of yoghurt atop peanuts with yuzu, Szechuan pepper oil and kaffir lime was a subtle segue from savoury into sweet. For the final flourish, a delightful sweet cheese was matched with anise-infused poached rhubarb and a topping of hazelnut crumb.

The wine list has interesting bottles every which way, starting from £35 and heading skywards to the highly coveted millennial 'Pingus' at £1,200. Three dozen come by the glass (including Coravin), with the bonus of helpful and incisive notes. The wine pairings for the tasting menus are particularly well considered. Accommodation is now available in two self-contained cottages 'just a stumble from the restaurant'.

Following a stint running the popular Elia supper club in London, chef Tom Tsappis and his partner Matilda Ruffle headed north to the village of Killiecrankie and took over what was the village’s old rural lodge. The resulting transformation into a contemporary restaurant with rooms has been nothing short of striking, from the marble-topped bar and lounge with their deep-blue colour schemes, pink chandeliers and vintage record collection (you're welcome to choose your own after-dinner playlist) to the dark, cosseting dining rooms and shining open kitchen.

Dinner is an unpredictable and ever-changing feast of up to 20 little dishes, and diners are forewarned that the whole experience can last over three hours. The cooking marries artisan Scottish ingredients with local folklore and subtly interwoven influences from Japan (Matilda’s mother is Japanese) – a main course of local venison with preserved blueberries, red cabbage, seaweed butter and hokkaido-style milk bread is typical of the invention and cross-pollination of ideas on display here.

Elsewhere, a broth of Arbroath smokies is accompanied by a savoury, fish-shaped jasmine taiyaki cake, while a dish entitled ‘dripping fried porridge’ (served in rectangular blocks and sprinkled with Isle of Mull Cheddar) is a homage to the old Scots tradition of the ‘porridge drawer’.

Local ingredients shine throughout, from a medley of wild mushrooms with chanterelle powder and black pepper on a soft bed of polenta-like panisse to a pairing of apple sorbet and shavings of Blue Murder cheese. Matilda Ruffle’s skill and well-informed guidance as a sommelier shine through in the drinks pairings (including wines from her family’s Treaty Port vineyard in China as well as bespoke Wasted Degrees beer and all manner of cocktails). Alternatively, the regular wine list offers a dozen or so by the glass. 

‘Always delicious. Always seasonal,’ proclaims one reporter, while another notes that James Carn’s classy venue is ‘totally focused on delivering a culinary experience with personality’. There are a few tables on the pavement and the interior is plainly furnished in café style, complete with a variety of soothing pictures, while service comes from a knowledgeable and passionate team who know how to take care of their customers. A thoroughly modern menu kicks off with an ample choice of nibbles and small plates ranging from cep arancini to cured Suffolk sea bass paired with horseradish, kohlrabi and tartare sauce. As the plates get larger, the combinations of flavours and textures become more artful and stimulating – as in spatchcock quail with black-bean purée and Padrón peppers. At the finishing line, desserts mobilise vivid fruit flavours and there’s often a seasonal trifle too (perhaps cherry and white chocolate). Wines are an imaginative spread offered at prices it's hard to argue with – even at the top end, where some glittering vinous treasures await. In short, ‘the perfect local spot.’

A genuine restaurant du quartier, if ever there was, this Crouch End spot is run by the titular duo of Robert Reid at the stoves and Jean-Christophe Slowik (JC, to the army of regulars) out front. If only one of them is French, he is at least bubbling over with enough unabashed Gallic bonhomie for two. Battleship-grey panelling, undressed tables and a trio of blackboards busily covered in numerous chalk-scribbled specials form a backdrop to Reid's assured bourgeois cooking.

You might easily guess what's on the menu, sight unseen (soupe à l'oignon gratinée, garlic-buttered escargots, Bayonne ham with celeriac rémoulade for starters), although you might not anticipate the panache with which the dishes are realised – or the uncommon quality of the raw materials. Moving on, mains might bring entrecôte or ribeye steaks with béarnaise sauce and piles of frites or smoked haddock in mustard sauce topped with a poached egg.

The non-meat alternative of, say, artichokes with ratatouille and chickpeas in cumin-scented roast tomato sauce shows more consideration for veggies than you might find in many a traditional French bistro. Finish with rum baba and apricot compôte or tarte fine aux pommes. A French wine list covers all bases, with glasses from £7.95, plus still or sparkling Kir to start.

Located in the Baltic Triangle regeneration district, amid towering redbrick former warehouses, Manifest is a sure indicator of where Liverpool's contemporary dining scene is right now. ‘This place is incredible,’ writes a reporter, ‘with a great atmosphere and well set-out’ – that last detail referring to the centrally sited kitchen, which makes just about everywhere in the compact space feel like a chef's table. The focus of Paul Durand's repertoire is on foraging, fermenting and preserving in the modern manner, with lots of bold, attention-grabbing flavours, the initial statement of which is a bowl of the now-legendary warm vinegar crisps.

Assertive technique and immaculate presentation distinguish dishes ranging from a starter of torched sea trout with squash velouté, sea beet and nasturtium to a plate of celeriac given the char siu treatment, accompanied by burnt apple and hazelnuts. For main course, there could be Creedy Carver duck with beetroot, plum and pancakes (another distantly allusive Chinese reference), while fruity sea buckthorn makes a strategic appearance with cod loin, carrot and a sauce incorporating smoked mussels. A successful umami-drenched veggie option to ward off the winter chills might be January King cabbage with yeast extract, potato salad and garlic.

Finish with a cheese plate that might partner Old Roan Wensleydale with bara brith and marmalade, or plump for rhubarb dressed in spent Champagne with a sablé biscuit. The ‘chef's choice’ menu with a three-glass wine flight will come in handy if Liverpool is in the mood to celebrate.

Visitors heap praise on this ‘delightfully individual’ boutique restaurant – the kind of place that ‘leaves you feeling you’ve had a special experience’. Don’t let the website’s monochrome picture of a dour Scottish chef or the ‘Great produce. No option’ policy give the wrong impression – dining here is great fun. Pumping music, outrageous decor (a large sign by the open kitchen reads ‘Live Sex Show’) and ‘imaginative dishes presented with enthusiasm and pride’ make it feel a bit like being at a supper club.

That said, there's nothing amateur about Jones’s cooking, which fuses Indian spicing with top-drawer British ingredients across eight inventive courses, starting with a bag of warm home-baked sourdough served alongside Bloody Mary butter and Jerusalem artichoke syrup.

Dining here requires a leap of faith: there’s no menu and there are no substitutions (vegetarians and those with food intolerances must go elsewhere). For omnivores, however, many delights await: say, an espresso cup of extraordinarily rich and velvety mousse, flavoured with chicken of the woods mushrooms (foraged, pickled and dried by Jones) and accompanied by a bite-size vegetable bhaji under a snowdrift of Parmesan. Or how about perfectly cooked tandoori monkfish in a curried cream with apple matchsticks, roast parsnip and toasted pumpkin seeds? Meat could be rose veal with gravy and a comforting but pokey horseradish mash stippled with tiny diced cucumber and candied artichoke.

Puddings range from schoolroom to very grown up, as in a warm apple and medjool date cake in a pool of miso caramel with sea buckthorn sorbet and a sabayon of San Zeno dessert wine. If you don’t opt for the wine flights, choice by the glass is limited but the sommelier will see you right. Service is friendly and personal. You won’t want to leave.

Make no mistake, Miga is a Korean family business in the most deep-rooted way. Grandma sold ox-bone broth in Seoul before a transcontinental uprooting of the clan led to the establishment of a venue in New Malden, epicentre of the expat Korean community. It's possibly an even bigger cultural leap from the suburbs of Greater London to the streets of Hackney, where a polyglot restaurant scene saw Miga welcomed with open arms by locals. Despite the spare decor (the minimalist aspect is broken by a single painting), the place exudes the warmth of familial hospitality, with Mr Ko cooking in the open kitchen and his sons running the front of house with great enthusiasm.

The food brings a contemporary sensibility to the traditional cooking methods and red-alert seasonings of Korean food, adding tofu and marrow, for instance, to gang doenjang, a thick stew founded on soybean paste. King prawns in gochujang sauce marry seafood freshness and assertive chilli heat to stimulating effect.

Main dishes try out innovative treatments such as perilla-seed aïoli with slices of tender brisket, leeks and baby leaves, but don't miss the galbi jjim, traditional beef short rib braised until the meat falls obligingly off the bone, partnered with pear, carrot and shiitake mushrooms – a ‘comforting hug’ of a dish in the words of one reporter. The ox-bone broth, a tribute to grandma's original spirit of enterprise, is nourishing and cleansing, a fitting end to the experience that stands in for the usual empty calories of a pudding.

There’s still no dessert menu – coffee and a bun at Italian Forno next door is an option if you’re there during the day – but Miga is now licensed and has a short list of soju, natural wines (from £35), and beers including Korean Cass and Five Points, brewed down the road. Teas come from Korean specialists Be-oom in Clerkenwell.

Best New Restaurant 2024

Can Tomos Parry ever put a foot wrong? His follow-up to Brat – and Brat x Climpson’s Arch – has opened with a bang in Soho. There’s a familiar no-frills vibe to the large, light-filled dining room with its very open, fired-up kitchen and sultry, smoky smells. Of course it’s noisy, but that's all part of the tremendous atmosphere, and it matches the straight-to-the-point cooking of broad-shouldered seasonal dishes with Spanish overtones – notably the mar y montaña cuisine of northern Spain and the Balearic Islands. Parry’s pursuit of, and belief in, great ingredients brings a compelling set of flavours to his short, punchy menu, which is dominated by sharing plates – from a spider crab omelette or a dish of wild mushrooms with a runny-yolked egg popped on top to our fantastic opener of beef sweetbreads served with grilled young leeks and shallots, cooking juices and a little pop of acidity from slivers of fresh lemon. We followed with whole red mullet grilled on the bone, with a rich sauce of olive oil and butter spooned over – so simple, so fresh, and absolutely perfectly timed; all it needed was some richly flavoured, ever-so-gently smoked wood-fired rice (a dish that is fast achieving cult status). Sitting close to the kitchen, we could see that the mutton chops, four-year Jersey beef sirloin rib and eight-year Friesian sirloin rib were also doing a roaring trade. Vegetables are less in evidence but not neglected: plates of braised early-autumn veg and beetroot with mountain mint and sorrel were on offer when we visited. We weren’t so impressed by the ensaïmada (a Mallorcan pastry) with hazelnut ice cream, and regretted not ordering the torrijas (Spain's answer to French toast) with blackberries instead. Service is excellent, informed and highly motivated, and the short European wine list is well chosen, with everything available by the glass (from £6).

There’s something reassuringly old fashioned about this self-confident restaurant (the latest in what is now a trio of London-based Noble Rots) – and that’s a large part of its charm. With a dark green frontage, ground-floor windows sporting café-style net curtains and two slightly cramped dining floors, it feels as if it has been around forever – an impression reinforced by the simple polished wood tables, red banquettes, wooden chairs and mottled walls covered in framed Noble Rot magazine covers. Clued-up staff, a general air of warm-heartedness and a commendable wine list all contribute to the appeal. The regularly changing menu is reflective of both the season and head chef Adam Wood's many enthusiasms – his food is a delight. The short, Euro-accented menu offers dishes that are (mostly) straightforward assemblies with inspired finishing touches – beef tartare with green tomatoes and Ossau-Iraty (Basque ewe's milk cheese), say, or smoked ravioli with courgette and preserved lemon. We enjoyed tender squid with a chorizo sauce – so good we regretted not ordering bread to mop it all up – followed by two generous slices of tender Ibérico pork, served with a heap of runner beans, sliced apricots and juicy whole blackberries. And we couldn’t fault the rich, delicate duck-egg custard tart – a sprinkling of sea salt proved a sharp foil that really enhanced the flavour. The wine list is simply one of the best in London, an outstanding, deeply researched and inspiring document. Predominantly organised by grape variety, with regional sections where blends are predominant, it spans a massive range of top-drawer growers and estates. The principal focus is Europe, though there are some pedigree New Worlders too. Portuguese and Greek selections are encouragingly thorough, and the listings of sparklers and sweet wines (rotted and late-picked) are tremendous. Wines by the glass are in small enough measures to make comparative tasting feasible. Coravin pours will test the budget, but are uniformly glorious.

It isn't exactly news that top-end dining in London has become even more riotously expensive than it has ever been, but one heartening development is the willingness of proven chefs to venture into the more affordable end of the market without compromising on quality or excitement. One of Jason Atherton's newest such ventures is here, on a corner of St James's Market, a cheering venue flooded with light from deep windows. In a classy ambience of marble and leather, with chandeliers and flowers to boot, Sael (the name is Old English for season but also, fittingly, for an occasion) offers a tribute to British heritage cooking in an all-day format. 

The more democratic approach does not preclude extraordinary attention to detail, as head chef Dale Bainbridge (ex-Pollen Street Social) demonstrates with a range of appetisers that includes an intensely savoury Marmite custard tart (optionally topped with caviar) or tempura rock oyster with malt vinegar-doused batter scraps. Small plates encompass a memorable assemblage of Orkney scallop, razor clams and smoked leeks.

From a menu section headed ‘mid-plates’ comes a fantastically delicious, multi-layered lasagne of Hereford snails and ox cheek, while the British fondness for east-Asian food is celebrated in gochujang-grilled cuttlefish with soy-braised pork cheek. Prime cuts of meat and fish cooked in embers take in the expected Aberdeen Angus and shorthorn beef, but also a tronçon of aged brill on the bone. Sides rise above their role as mere extras – especially when the broccoli is dressed with smoked anchovies, and the mash is lubricated in chicken gravy.

Nursery puddings are creatively reworked, as in a recklessly sweet jam roly-poly made with brioche, smoked butter, strawberry jam and Jersey custard, or you could come to a quite satisfying sticky end with apple-vinegared English burnt cream and a brandy snap. The wine list is quite a corker, casting a very wide net, with glasses from £8. Otherwise, order by the pint (just over half a litre, for the youngsters among you) from £36.

Fizzing with renewed energy thanks to the arrival of chef-patron Will Gleave (ex-Hill & Szrok in Hackney), Sargasso has given Margate a restaurant with the sort of edge that the town craves. This place is cool. A small brick box of a building on the Harbour Arm with splendid views over Margate Sands to the Old Town, it has little in the way of decor – just a narrow kitchen/dining room with stools at high tables and a counter. It's loud, packed and great fun, with an excellent, friendly team overseeing proceedings. 

The deal is small plates, and sharing is the way to go, with the kitchen delivering a roster of generously loaded, rustically appealing dishes full of flavour. On an unusually warm early spring day, we bagged an outside table for a meal overflowing with Mediterranean warmth. A snack of fried courgette and Cantabrian anchovy hit exactly the right note, as did the fried squid squished in a soft brioche-style roll, and the melting, roasted Tropea onions with an utterly moreish romesco sauce. What really dazzled, however, was the day’s special – a sparklingly fresh, beautifully cooked lemon sole served on the bone, topped with an unbelievably flavoursome lemon and olive sauce. Desserts range from a creamy, vanilla-flecked panna cotta with poached rhubarb to a rich dark chocolate, olive oil and smoked chilli mousse – we enjoyed them both. 

There's good drinking too, from a modern stash of mostly French and Italian wines. And we're happy to report that the days of using the grim Harbour Arms public conveniences are no more. Sargasso now boasts two sparkling portaloos, for their customers only – you just have to ask for a key.

Neil Bentinck took York by storm when he arrived in 2016 and started serving exciting, inventive modern dishes with a pan-Asian twist. Since then, he has barely put a foot wrong, earning Skosh something of a cult following – scoring a table means booking well in advance. There’s nothing showy about the 40-seater restaurant, a palette of grey and yellow, rustic hand-thrown crockery and wooden tables, with a row of stools at the chef's table overlooking the open kitchen.

The name Skosh is a contraction of the Japanese word sukoshi (meaning small), a clue that the kitchen delivers small plates – around 25 of them at prices ranging from a few pounds for a Lindisfarne oyster with cucumber and jalapeño granita to just under a tenner for miso-glazed hake with courgette, pickled lemon and sunflower-seed pesto. You could limit yourself to three dishes per person, but it's worth splashing out – especially when the line-up promises fried popcorn chicken (with a sweetcorn sauce and Thai basil), cauliflower pakoras with mint, tamarind and yoghurt, or tandoori pigeon skewers. It’s only a mouthful, but a cube of sea trout cured in kecap manis (sweet soy sauce), topped with marshmallow and finished with peanut and lime is outstanding, while their lovely sourdough is served with Acorn Dairy butter and gunpowder salt.

And if there is one unmissable item, it’s ‘hen’s egg’, a dish that has been on the menu since day one: a ceramic eggshell is filled with a mousse of Summerfield's cheese, but dig down and you'll find a mix of egg yolk, crunchy crumbs, leeks, black vinegar and sweet sherry (ingredients are tweaked from time to time). Drinks are equally eclectic, from seasonal cocktails and craft beers to a slate of global wines. 

If it's worth finding a perfectly pristine English village – and it always is – it's also worth hoping that the local pub will be a forward-thinking ancient inn serving adventurous modern British food. Welcome to the Barrington Boar, located somewhere between Taunton and Yeovil. A slate-floored bar opens onto a crimson-walled dining room with a stone-built fireplace, and there's a clutch of guest rooms where the old skittle alley once was.

Alasdair Clifford and Victoria Collins have made the place a haven of West Country hospitality, with Alasdair's kitchen as its nerve centre and a culinary repertoire built around supremely confident, exquisitely presented regional cooking. 'Real innovation without silliness,' is how one reader summarised the style, having in mind such dishes as a starter of barbecued lamb shoulder glazed in rose harissa with smoked aubergine and pistachio dukkah – or, perhaps, a Japanese-inspired tartare of kelp-cured trout with soy and rhubarb ponzu, adorned with shiso and winter radish.

Wye Valley asparagus in season forms the centrepiece of a veggie main with confit new potatoes, baby turnips and sprouting broccoli in herb vinaigrette, while fish could be roast cod with smoked cod croquettes and spring cabbage in a creamy white wine velouté. Gold-standard meats take in everything from 50-day aged Devon Red sirloin, its accoutrements including a mushroom stuffed with bone marrow and parsley butter, to local lamb rump with its caramelised sweetbreads.

Finish with Yorkshire rhubarb cheesecake and matching sorbet, or a picture-perfect pear frangipane tart with clotted cream. A luscious cocktail offering includes a 'Dam-Good Negroni' made with damson gin (our arm is duly twisted), while the expertly curated wine list opens with a comprehensive suite of selections in two glass sizes and half-litre carafes.

Only a few miles from Hay-on-Wye, this former drovers’ inn close to the Welsh border is so peaceful and secluded that it's no surprise many visitors remark on the ‘spectacular setting’. Sympathetically renovated and reopened in 2021 by local regenerative food and farming company Wild by Nature, the pub has a timeless charm. Inside, the split-level dining rooms have thick stone walls, wonky-beamed ceilings, slate floors and a large open fireplace. Outside, a large, pretty garden offers tables with stunning views under the watchful presence of Herefordshire’s imposing Black Hill.

A strong connection to the land and a deep respect for ingredients shine through the seasonally changing menu. Dining here is farm-to-table and nose-to-tail, with ingredients grown or reared at a nearby farm owned by the restaurant group. Almost everything, from the charcuterie to the cheese biscuits, is made in-house. Whether this is a wild garlic soup with a fried hen’s egg and prosciutto, Black Mountain hogget and merguez with white beans and green sauce, or a buttermilk pudding with rhubarb jelly, hyper–local ingredients are treated with a respect and care that enables their flavours to sing. 

Everyone has a good word to say about the friendly and attentive staff, while drinks feature local beers and ciders as well as a short list of minimal intervention wines, which offers a better choice by the bottle than the glass. Accommodation is in four bespoke 'wild cabins' in the grounds of the pub.

Are Oisín Rogers, Charlie Carroll and Ashley Palmer-Watts champions of a new era in pubs? The Devonshire is certainly one of the most enjoyable places to eat in the capital – if you can get in (far too many people want to eat here). Yet it looks set to become an institution – and long may it continue, for this is no ordinary pub. Ingredients are impeccable and the strong meat-focused menu serves the kind of dishes you want to eat, especially in the lively environment of a central London watering hole where drinkers have their own space and staff are noted for their relaxed expertise. Dining rooms are divided between the first and second floors where, under the direction of Ashley Palmer-Watts (formerly executive chef at Dinner by Heston Blumenthal), the kitchen applies a certain simplicity and accuracy of cooking to impeccable ingredients.

Flames are at the heart of the operation, with wood-fired Ibérico pork chops, lamb cutlets, fillet, ribeye and T-bone steaks (plus lobsters) keeping company with the likes of lamb hotpot or beef and Guinness suet pudding on the hand-scrawled menu. Three wonderfully meaty scallops, lightly roasted, served in the shell with nothing more than a buttery, vinegary sauce and strips of crisp bacon, is a terrific opener that hammers home the kitchen’s modus operandi – namely sourcing prime ingredients and treating them with the utmost simplicity. And there’s something deeply comforting about a fixed price, no-choice lunch that can deliver real quality and value in the shape of prawn and langoustine cocktail, skirt steak with excellent chips and béarnaise sauce, and light, luscious sticky toffee pudding – all for £29.

Sunday's roast ribs of beef carved from a silver-domed trolley are terrific value too and have helped restore the tradition in this part of town. To drink, everyone orders Guinness – it’s fast achieving cult status here – and you can drink well without breaking the bank from the mainly European wine list. The pub now has its own 40-cover rooftop terrace for fine-weather dining (note that you can't book this separately). 

The Dog & Gun takes centre stage in the tranquil north Cumbrian village of Skelton. As befits its name, the place will welcome your canine companion (if you give notice), but perhaps leave the firearms at home. It's a welcoming dining space, divided by a central bar, with misshapen ceiling beams and wheelback chairs, and an approach to service considerate enough to turn down the Ed Sheeran when orders are being taken. Ben Queen-Fryer works in splendid isolation at the stoves, offering a style of high-gloss country cooking that puts the emphasis on substance as well as impressive technique. Pasta is spot-on, as in a yolk-yellow raviolo filled with pork, sauced with a reduction of the poaching milk with sage and garlic. A terrine of smoked Jersey Royals, or perhaps a cheesy soufflé, might be alternative starters, but do save room for the trencher-style main dishes – witness a stonking venison suet pudding packed with tender, gamey meat, served with a stick of beetroot done in duck fat, mead gravy and a side of the chunkiest chips. Dover sole is butter-sauced, while the veg option might be earthy cep risotto. Even the crumbly-topped dessert soufflé, made with the Lyth Valley's celebrated damsons and partnered with frangipane ice cream, is a hefty proposition – so that diners not opting for the chocolate millefeuille need not feel skimped. A couple of Cumbrian craft beers and sanely priced wines by the glass lead the drinks offering, with selections forsaking the beaten track for Swiss varietals, Slovak Riesling and an orange creation from Alsace.

‘Great food, magnificent countryside and no passport queues!’ cheered one reporter, while another simply proclaimed, ‘This is all about happiness’. They were referring to the tastefully refreshed Gordon Arms – a fine old coaching inn, now a family-run restaurant with rooms. Guests are drawn into the comforting solidity of well-banked fires, convivial chat and a sense of respite from travel, while seasonality, sustainability and local sourcing are the kitchen’s watchwords. There’s a keen eye for value, too, although eating here also feels ‘elegant and exclusive’. Expect carefully prepared, rustic food from a chef who understands the quality of his raw materials and is content to let them shine: Yarrow Valley venison salami, wild garlic from the Ettrick Valley, beef from the Borders’ herds, and a veritable harvest festival of pickings from the orchard and garden. Elsewhere, honey from the glen is used to dress a ricotta-stuffed courgette flower, while rare-breed pork loin might be paired with ‘nduja-spiced chickpeas. The wine list is well-focused, with some interesting options and a decent selection by the glass or carafe.

On the fringes of a 1,000-acre deer park just four miles from the Norfolk coast, this idiosyncratic pub/restaurant with rooms is quite a prospect. The grey-stone exterior may seem rather stark but inside all is comforting, thanks to soft, warm furnishings, lots of varnished woodwork, leather, blazing fires and the owners' collection of contemporary British art from the likes of Tracey Emin, Damien Hirst and Lucien Freud.

A recently acquired walled garden and chicken coop bolster the kitchen's larder, while big-boned British dishes are the order of the day. Much attention focuses on the mighty Elk Room fire, where cuts of meat are dramatically cooked to order as you watch from your table – expect anything from Blythburgh pork chops, ribs of beef and herby Gunton venison sausages to flavoursome sirloin steak served with goose-fat roasties, sauces and rowan jelly. Rich, carefully seasoned pies are also something of a trademark (perhaps chicken, bacon and leek) and there’s fish from the coast too (sea trout with seashore vegetables and King’s Lynn shrimps, for example). For afters, a delicate Amedei chocolate mousse was the standout for one visitor, but there’s also comfort to be had from the vanilla cheesecake with rhubarb or the Bramley apple and almond tart.

Sunday brings roast Aberdeen Angus sirloin as well as roasted chickens, which are carved by skilled staff and served with veg from the walled garden, garlicky bread sauce and a spectacular gravy that elevates the whole feast to another level. Everyone praises the cheerful, prompt and ‘incredibly friendly’ service too. Norfolk ales are on tap in the bar and the short wine list offers a decent spread at fair prices.

Named after a brooding rocky promontory which is said to resemble the grotesque head of a gurnard, this gloriously remote clifftop inn is unmistakable, with its moniker emblazoned on the roof and its mustard-yellow exterior positively gleaming in the sunshine. Inside, all is cosily weatherproof, with open fires and comfy sofas for those who fancy a pint of real ale or cider in the bar. There’s an equally unfussy vibe in the dining room, where vivid primary colours, scrubbed-wood tables and paintings set the tone. Given the location, it’s no surprise that locally landed seafood is a mainstay of the menu – and that includes the ugly old gurnard from time to time. More likely are dishes such as cod paired with braised beef short rib, roasted shallot and gremolata or hake jazzed up with a global grab-bag of vada pav, aubergine pickle, dukkah and coriander. Otherwise, home in on duck leg with wild garlic and goat’s cheese orzo or roast broccoli with nettle and Stilton purée. Desserts are the heart-warming, comforting kind – perhaps sticky toffee pudding topped with a dollop of Cornish clotted cream for good measure. The owners’ slogan is ‘eat, drink, sleep’, so expect some idiosyncratic libations and guest rooms for those wanting to stay over.

The small, busy town of Conwy, dominated by its huge castle, has a surprisingly cosmopolitan feel: a Turkish baker, French pâtissier and Italian coffee shop along with an excellent cheesemonger, butcher, deli and top-flight chocolatier. It indicates a local constituency with the interest and ability to sustain such artisan outlets and perhaps explains why Nick Rudge chose to open his small, accomplished, first-floor restaurant here after a lengthy Fat Duck residency. The food scene of north Wales as seen through his eyes is proudly showcased in a choice of superb produce and often lesser-known regional traditions. He works closely with local farmers, especially Dilwyn Owen on Anglesey who provides lesser-known heritage varieties such as the almost extinct Bardsey apple (afal ynys enlli) and the y ddraig goch (red dragon) tomato. Without prior instruction you’d miss the entrance and modest name plaque. It feels like a semi-secret, almost medieval location, up winding stone stairs and along a dim corridor. The single room is tranquil and airy, simply furnished with fleecy rugs on the wooden chairs, a bar at one end, bookshelves the other. The welcome is friendly and relaxed, with a hint of formality but no pomposity. Set meals are thoughtfully constructed, conceived as a whole, in harmony with both season and location: the intent is genuine and not your usual nod to fashion. In a novel take on food miles, the wine list notes the distance each bottle has travelled to arrive on your ground-zero table. And it includes some fascinating Welsh names, along with mead and spirits to enhance the regional interest. ‘Bread of heaven’ has become a fixture; made with kefir and whole grains, it is irresistibly nutty and earthy – a Welsh sibling of soda bread. Served in hunks with salty, cultured butter and a sweeter barley-based variant, it requires considerable willpower not to fill up on this alone. But do keep some for mopping up purposes. Confit potato with barbecued leek, wild garlic and creamy velouté – typically poised and precise with well-defined flavours – launched our spring menu. The Welsh idiom continued strongly with barbecued wild sea bass caught a few miles down the coast. Light and delicate, falling off the fork, it was confidently matched with saturnine morels, vivid crisp asparagus and more wild garlic (a seasonally welcoming repeat). ‘Riwbob and cwstard‘ was a Welsh wizard dessert, the rhubarb transmuted into an inspired sweet-sharp granita on a velvety custard base. This was followed by ‘llymru’, an oat biscuit with a bitter, beer ice cream based on the ancient dish of flummery – superfluous perhaps, but still an intriguing taste of Welsh history.

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

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

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

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

Having honed their already-impressive operation still further, Aga and Lewis King are now custodians of one of Norfolk’s best restaurants – plus a new bakery and coffee shop next door. Dispense with all preconceptions about banks before dining here. The venue occupies a well-proportioned but hardly capacious old building in the centre of Snettisham, and its dining room is an ‘intimate, carefully lit’ space with just 22 covers. Local prints and photos hang on grey walls, while a jazz soundtrack and Aga's informal but informative service ensure a casual atmosphere much loved by couples. Vegan and dairy-free diets aren't catered for; the choice is between Lewis's 'short' menu and his (better-value) 'long' tasting menu. Poise, accuracy, outstanding ingredients and a mastery of strong flavours characterised an inspection meal, which began with 'snacks' of truffled egg yolk 'jam' on a chickpea cracker with Parmesan, and a well-matched apple and crab roe assembly topped with edible flowers. The fungal world is oft-explored here, and the following course of 'white onion, seeds, Wiltshire truffle' was a marvellously light soup made tangy with yoghurt and featuring a generous grating of truffle on top – plus toasted pumpkin seeds at the bottom. The eight-course bonanza continued with flavoursome cured mackerel partnered by crisp fennel and slices of kohlrabi onto which was poured a creamy horseradish and dill sauce: again, a triumph of carefully judged flavours and textures. So too, a dish of marinated beetroot with pungent goat's cheese, pine nuts and resilient slices of king oyster mushroom. No course disappointed: the halibut was meaty, fresh, and boosted by a deliciously savoury mussel sauce, although the Norfolk beef (both sirloin and short rib) was perhaps the highlight of the meal – a rich collection of juicy, flavour-packed meat sharing the plate with hazelnuts, a tangle of hen of the woods mushrooms, cep purée and an intense red wine jus. Some ingredients are grown in the Old Bank's organic allotment; others don’t travel far. Strawberries (from the nearby village of Sharrington) arrived covered by a Greek yoghurt mousse scattered with pistachios, while the finale – a second dessert involving a wobbly dark-chocolate tart matched with discs of peanut brittle, sliced black cherries (at their succulent peak) and a morello cherry sorbet – yieled even more delights. The drinks list allows plenty of scope for exploration, with decent house wines and ample by-the-glass selections (including an optional wine flight), as well as a few Norfolk beers. Our verdict? Outstanding.

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

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

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

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

‘Great atmosphere, casual service and proper homemade food using local produce,’ is a winning formula at this formidable dining room in a former bank (complete with original marble, soaring ceilings, ornate wooden doorways and huge, slender windows). Run with personal charm and good humour, it’s an upbeat place that knows how to win friends and strike the right note between traditional and contemporary. Lloyd Morse’s kitchen takes a resolutely nose-to-tail approach, showcasing his deep love of Italian and French cuisine, with the emphasis firmly on provenance, seasonality and a style of cooking that is unfussy, hearty and deeply satisfying. One thought their pork belly with polenta and Parmesan was ‘delightful’, while others have praised the 'beautifully cooked’ Shetland lamb chops partnered by freekeh, runner beans and anchoïade; otherwise, consider a bowl of fish stew. The much-loved in-house bakery produces exceptional bread, as well as pastries, while desserts such as buttermilk panna cotta are highly praised. You can dine at the bar without booking, but don’t ignore the Newbarns beers, the coffee Negronis or the impressively adventurous wine list.

Located in an impossibly charming village about an hour's drive east of York, this delightful inn has been home to James and Kate Mackenzie since 2006, and it has gone from strength to strength over the years. Happily, the owners have never lost sight of their original vision of an informal country pub dedicated to impressive cooking with a local accent – ‘not fine dining but brilliant consistent food,’ according to one fan. There’s a commitment to Yorkshire’s bountiful larder, the same menu is served in the bar (no bookings) and restaurant, while afternoons bring sandwiches, soup and savouries. They even look after your children nicely with a sensible menu of roast chicken, sausage and mash, risotto and lots more.

James Mackenzie doesn't trade in dolls-house portions or superfluous smears; instead, his dishes are hearty and substantial – as in a generous serving of Dales lamb (BBQ rump and a crispy croquette of belly meat) alongside a delicate tartlet of spring vegetables and Yorkshire Fine Fettle cheese, plus nettle and mint purée, beer and barley jus. Our springtime visit included grilled asparagus served with a dressing of Yorkshire’s own chorizo, followed by a substantial dish of cider-braised rabbit topped with a wild garlic crumble containing pancetta, black pudding and cannellini beans. Asparagus turned up again in a special of wild halibut with Jersey Royals (doused with seaweed butter and served in a mini copper pan). Desserts are hard to resist, especially the exceedingly lemony, lemon curd parfait and meringue ice cream. And if you just fancy a little sweet something, try the ‘treats’ – a trio of macaroons or mini salted caramel doughnuts, hot from the pan and rolled in sugar.

The thoughtful wine list is a fine match for the food, with plenty by the glass and half bottle (including a Pomerol and Margaux at £38), plus a selection of ‘fine and rare’ vintages; there's also a selection of Thomson & Scott non-alcoholic tipples. Five luxurious bedrooms are located in the pub and a further four are close by in the village.

The winner of our 2020 'Chef to Watch' award has justified the faith we had in him. Not only has Will Devlin opened another restaurant in the area (Birchwood at Flimwell), but he's also built up the marvellously rural Small Holding as a destination with a fondly loyal following. Readers are impressed by the unflustered efficiency with which it is run, and the measurable sense of refinement that has taken place in the cooking. The multi-course menu changes daily, and while the lack of choice may not suit everyone, there’s no doubting the quality of ingredients. What hasn’t been grown or reared on the one-acre plot (on splendid view from the large terrace fronting the simple white-painted building) is sought from small-scale sustainable artisan producers in the area. Nor does the cooking pile on ingredients or decorative bits for the sake of it, but concentrates on essentials. At one meal, a Maldon rock oyster was served with an ‘exceptional’ lovage cream, perfectly timed halibut came teamed with fermented wild garlic, sea herbs and a ‘sweet and delicate’ sauce made with Squerreyes sparkling wine and chives, while hogget (two-year-old lamb) served various ways – pink rump with tenderstem broccoli, sweetbreads glazed with honey, a brioche bun made with hogget fat and stuffed with lamb shoulder – was beyond reproach. Desserts tend to stick to a theme of iced and crumbed things, though an apple sorbet offset by some aged cider vinegar and sprinkled with powdered pine was a masterful play of sweetness and acidity. An enticingly broad-minded, well-sourced wine list includes a good selection of Kentish labels.

‘The Suffolk is really hospitable,’ insists a reporter who adores this slice of East Suffolk gentility, which manages to satisfy locals who live down the road as well as incomers up from London for the weekend. Owner George Pell embeds himself in the local community, staging off-the-cuff breakfast events on the beach, hosting the town’s marmalade-making competition and even linking up with Snape Maltings to celebrate the summer solstice. In the kitchen, it’s all about Suffolk produce, seasonality and simple, honest cooking with nods to the town’s ‘terroir’. Current chef (and Tom Kerridge alumnus) Luke Truelove is carrying on where his predecessor left off, delivering classy metropolitan food with all-round appeal. Seafood is a star turn, from grilled Aldeburgh herring on toast with 'nduja butter to the ‘fish of the day’ with warm tartare sauce and samphire. Meat comes from Aldeburgh’s ‘super-butcher’ Salter & King (check out the beef shin and Binham Blue cheese pie), while desserts nod to the locality with Pump Street dark chocolate tart and yoghurt ice cream. There are snacks, ales, vinyl records and plenty of wines by the glass in the bar, too.

Occupying a former pub in the Barnsbury quarter of Islington, this regional Indian restaurant has become a huge hit with knowledgeable locals. Set up by chef Prince Durairaj (previously at Roti King) and JKS GM Glen Leeson, it offers a smartly attired interior featuring dark walls and a weathered bare-wood floor, plus bar counter seating and a bamboo-shielded terrace out front. As the name indicates, the cooking is at least partly oriented to the southern states of India – and it displays plenty of brio. Proceedings might start with fried prawn and curry-leaf varuval, dressed in an assertive spicy paste. Hailing from the northern reaches of the Subcontinent, the huge, puffed chana bhatura (deep-fried bread accompanied by chickpeas and raita) is something of a showstopper. Returning to Tamil Nadu, the Chettinad lamb curry has impressive depth of flavour, with exhilarating spicing and tender meat, or there is an equally zesty Thanjavur chicken dish. Small, candy-like chunks of paneer are the stars of a butter masala. Durairaj's previous experience shows in the superb buttery roti, an accompaniment that should not be missed. To conclude, gulab jamun is unctuously sweet (as expected), but with a firmer, more satisfying texture than is typical. If that seems a bit much after the substantial preceding dishes, look to mango lassi for refreshment. There is some sound drinking on offer too, with cocktails and mocktails boasting Indian flavours – the rebooted Piña Colada with cinnamon, toasted coconut and lime zest is a doozy. An imaginative wine selection opens at £29 (£8 a glass), while water is served in repurposed gin bottles.

If location is everything, then Chloe and David Ellis have it all. After making a big hit with Pizza West in Whitby, they have created a beautiful indoor/outdoor restaurant on an idyllic stretch of the river Esk. What was once a soggy riverbank has been gravelled, decked, planted and set with tables for outdoor dining. Despite our unpredictable weather, they claim most visitors still prefer to eat outside. Children have their own mini picnic tables and diminutive deckchairs, while ‘the landing’ is a lovely spot for a drink by the water’s edge. And, with Whitby just two miles downriver, the new outdoor kitchen provides oysters and Champagne, as well as locally landed fish. 

Indoors, the 50-cover dining room is on two levels with staff working in an open kitchen, delivering a menu that matches the setting. It’s seasonal, local and deceptively simple, perhaps a dish of aromatic Tuscan sausage and caramelised onion with a vivid green, wild garlic aïoli, or a plate of smoky charred leeks on a swathe of earthy houmous given a welcome crunch from chopped and toasted almonds. 

Chefs Rob Miladinovic (formerly at now-defunct Star Inn the Harbour) and Brianna Harrison (formerly of Brawn in East London) have an intelligent awareness of taste and texture: a tender pork chop is given a crisp crumb and a contrasting pillowy pomme purée, while an outstanding dish of silky pappardelle with wild mushrooms and lemon butter is boosted by the crunch and flavour of tempura shimeji mushrooms. By contrast, burnt Basque cheesecake is as soft as velvet, with just a hint of bitterness from its scorched top and a dollop of seasonal Yorkshire rhubarb purée on the side. A concise wine list is supplemented by some terrific cocktails (the non-alcoholic White Lady comes highly recommended).

The buzzy, anticipatory atmosphere among diners at this polished magnet for Berkshire’s food-lovers is contagious. Lucratively located near the M4, A34 and A4, the Woodspeen nevertheless occupies a quiet patch of verdant countryside and comes complete with a cookery school. In 2014, it was converted from a pub – though you’d hardly realise this when you're reclining on a smart grey banquette in the stylish modern dining room to the rear, with its soaring wooden ceiling (topped by a skylight), windows looking onto the garden and full-length open-view kitchen. The food continues to attract heaps of plaudits from a multitude of fans – and it's easy to see why. Roast halibut with crispy chicken-skin crumb, Bollinger and apple purée indicates the level of ambition to be found here, while beef Wellington for two is a speciality – although even the good-value set menu displays culinary flair and a feel for local ingredients (many from the restaurant’s kitchen garden). In May, for example, you might begin with the most delicate Parmesan arancino (crisp outside, creamy within) surrounded by a silky-smooth wild garlic and pea soup, the flavour of both ingredients skilfully balanced. Main courses are equally accomplished, a serving of succulent cured salmon, say, on crushed Jersey Royals, the whole dish elevated by a boldly flavoured fish broth and a modest sprig of purple sprouting broccoli in peak condition. After that, rhubarb pavlova makes a refreshing finale, with its light chewy meringue and delicately cooked cubes of rhubarb topped with blood-orange sorbet. Service attracts special comment from readers (‘exemplary’; ‘superb’; ‘fantastic and attentive without being overbearing’), and we found the knowledge, enthusiasm and expertise hard to fault. Second helpings of the first-rate spongy sourdough bread, served with whipped butter and a little pot of moreish black olive ‘houmous’ were provided without charge, once our appreciation had been noted. A studious, young sommelier takes his duties seriously, and the wide-ranging list is full of classy offerings – even a glass of entry-level Viognier comes bursting with juicy fruitiness. Cocktails, served in the front bar or out on the terrace, are yet another forte at this impressive set-up.

The Wen family hails from Shandong province (between Beijing and Shanghai), and the cooking of that eastern region – along with some excursions into the Szechuan repertoire – constitutes the backbone of their appealing city-centre venue. Café-style decor beneath a raftered ceiling creates an informal atmosphere, while the menu deals in lively home-style cooking. 

Where better to start than with Mrs Wen's minced pork dumplings, pleasingly hefty specimens with soy and chilli for dipping? A sizeable portion of marinated jellyfish in coriander and chilli, textured with Chinese leaf, is deeply moreish, likewise chicken on the bone dressed in chilli oil (another terrific cold appetiser). The chef is also a dab hand when it comes to tofu, note the lip-numbing mapo, electrified with Szechuan peppercorns and doubanjiang (fermented bean paste). Lamb is still quite rarely seen on Chinese menus: here it appears in a passable stir-fry with onions and plenty of cumin. 

Looking to celebrate? look no further than the braised whole sea bass with bamboo shoots and black fungus, a showpiece dish and an absolute treat. To finish, plump for the deep-fried crispy red-bean paste. A wine list compiled in conjunction with Leeds' natural wine specialists, Wayward Wines, yields some enlivening possibilities. 

The sense of almost mythological remoteness is accentuated as you head towards the west Wales coast, past the RSPB nature reserve, to the remarkable residence that is Ynyshir. Once owned by Queen Victoria, it has become one of the UK's foremost destination dining options thanks to Gareth Ward and his superlative kitchen and front-of-house teams. Ynyshir runs to its own agenda, with dozens of dishes over the space of four or five hours, requiring a level of concentration that will be amply rewarded with revelatory food rocking with stirring East Asian flavours, textures and temperatures. Bringing a singular atmosphere to the dark-walled dining room is a resident DJ, the now-famous glitterball and smoky theatrics from the embers of the evening's fire. There is a feeling that you might need to prepare for Ynyshir by forgoing solid sustenance for 48 hours, but our feedback files show how volubly people adore the novelty, the challenge and the sheer unadulterated fun of it all. And it is less relentless than it sounds: 'the tempo of the performance surges, then slackens and surges again, led by the music, and the fever-pitch deliciousness of some of the dishes,' our inspector noted. Wine picks are as original and as assertive as they need to be for the food, and are flexible enough to accommodate the gentler end of the spectrum.