Lanzhou Noodle Bar

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The restaurant’s menu features seriously old-school dishes like kedgeree, bubble and squeak, and ‘raw beef and crisps’, which is some kind of wonderful. There’s a rotation of fiery, no-frills dishes such as bavette steak rubbed with yaji dressing (served with the requisite quarter-tomato as is custom, Rafal explains), and ekuru with pumpkin-seed pestou and Scotch bonnet sauce. The wine list is extensive, ranging from the house St John white (£8.75), red (£8.75) or Cremant (£11) by the glass up to blow-the-budget Burgundys north of £600. We update this list regularly as new restaurants open and existing ones evolve. A grand dining room in a Grade II-listed former courthouse. Now it’s a wonderful, community-focused space, with a menu of Jamaican-inspired home-cooked classics.

Despite Mambow’s size, Abby Lee and her modern Malaysian restaurant will be stamping a big footprint on the London dining scene. Next up, small plates that ranged from my favourite lor bak – a spicy crispy pork bite that I’ve been dreaming about since – to a nutty grilled banana blossom and prawn toast that was unlike any I’ve tasted before. First-timers should order the classic, with juicy pork and peanuts packed inside a fluffy pocket, or the indulgent fried chicken. It’s been years since London’s favourite Taiwanese bun house launched in Soho, and queues still snake outside the tiny space on Lexington Street.

Lanzhou Noodle Bar

The whole menu also makes use of local produce, with many of the ingredients being sourced from a Public House-owned garden in Oxfordshire’s Bruen Farms. Waiters flit to and fro with enviable plates of crab cakes (I can testify, a must), leek tart and fried mushrooms, as we take a seat at a corner table next to a pair who are already gushing over their starters. But as we’re here for supper, we follow the maitre d’ up a narrow staircase, past a lively open kitchen, until we’re in a rabbit hole of a dining room.

The wine list is a delight – order by the glass as you graze your way through the menu of sure-fire hits, whatever the season, and leave feeling smug that you even found this unassuming spot at all. Next to all this glamorous shimmy, you worry that the actual food may appear a little drab, or see-saw more towards style than substance, but Ballymaloe-trained Parle is a good old boy of London dining with restaurants such as Sardine, JOY and Pastaio under his belt. Ask any Londoner for their list of the best restaurants in London, and you’ll get a different answer every time. That means house wine is served by the pot, a 460ml serving in a heavy-bottomed glass bottle, and charged to your bill based on how much you drink, whether that’s one glass or three bottles. Among a grid of Islington’s manicured parks and grand townhouses, chefs at Indian-spiced pub The Tamil Prince serve dishes tapas style (as they’re ready), from the small kitchen. When word got around that David Carter – the man behind some of London’s most buzzy restaurants, including Smokestack and Manteca – had opened a new spot in Borough Market, it didn’t take long for it to become one of the capital’s most exciting eateries.

Merging high-end food, glamorous interiors and a hard-to-impress postcode, with authentic familial influences and traditional Indian cuisine, BiBi was well worth the wait. I’d advise you to leave some room for dessert, too; the cacao ganache will be haunting my dreams for some time to come. This was followed by the freshest Irish oysters drizzled in a slap-in-the-face kind of hot fermented chilli sauce. The bisque is made up of the remnants of crab from one of the a la carte dishes – bonus points for waste reduction.

The set menu (£55 at lunch, £105 at dinner) changes frequently – snacks every week, larger plates depending on what ingredients look good. Joké’s Nigerian heritage is at the forefront of her home-style cooking, and it’s hugely exciting – if not long overdue – to see a business run by a Black woman flourishing in London’s competitive restaurant scene. Although the anjou pigeon a la presse is quite the spectacle (prepared tableside by a team of three), it’s the Crêpes Suzette that steals the show, doused and flambéed in Grand Marnier before being gently placed onto our plates in a neatly folded triangle. Many restaurants have tried to emulate the industrial-chic St John design blueprint, but this is the original – an unbuttoned, always excellent place to come for a long, boozy lunch fit for 1994. When choosing restaurants, our editors consider both high end and affordable eateries that offer an authentic and insider experience of a destination. Every restaurant on this list has been selected independently by our editors and written by a London-based Condé Nast Traveller journalist who has eaten at that restaurant.

It’s unfussy and honest cooking, served in a setting that feels more country house than East End. Rochelle Canteen has come a long way in those two decades – from a low-key spot with “a big sharing table and a box for a till”, these days the team has been serving a diminutive, hyper-seasonal menu since before it was zeitgeisty to do so. No wonder it’s been drawing in Michelin chefs and curious tourists alike since it opened in November 2023. We’ve seen a flurry of London boozers reopening recently that have kept all the atmosphere intact but woven in excellent restaurants, such as Ben Tish at The Barley Mow, Hauser & Wirth’s The Audley and, best of all, Henry Harris’s Racine 2.0 at Clerkenwell’s The Three Compasses. This always-busy, always-buzzing restaurant, just around the corner from Spitalfields Market, is the kind of spot you’ve been loyal to since opening in 2016, or that you come to late-to-the-game, disbelieving that you’ve never booked a table here before. There’s a cosy atmosphere, creaky floors, and the nation’s most classic bar snacks (think pork scratchings) served alongside beers like Allsopp’s and Portobello Pilsner.

The snacks list is a joy, with surprises such as a gilda (mackerel, cucumber and shiso leaf), caviar and beef-fat crisps (the ultimate high-low?) and tongue-sized fried sage leaves crusted in honey from Parle’s bees. Fergus Henderson and Trevor Gulliver all but pioneered modern nose-to-tail at St John when it opened in a former bacon smoke-house in Smithfield in 1994. We’re always looking for stand-out dishes, a great location and warm service – as well as serious sustainability credentials. Some are long-standing favourites that seem to just get better with age; others are hot openings that have impressed us enough to quickly earn their spot in this article. The result is as warm as the olive branch and lemon-print adorned restaurant, which features keys stuck into the walls to symbolise lost Palestinian homes. The retro décor is ever changing because it’s also a working antiques traders – if you ever wanted to step into the Donna Tartt novel The Goldfinch, this is as near as you can within the M25.

Found within the Radha-Krishna Temple on Soho Street, Govinda’s restaurant serves up what their website describes as karma-free food. Greek food is only the jumping-off point for a menu that begins on the Ionian islands before skipping off to the Levant by way of the Balkans, with a South American layover. Mostly though, Chan’s menu defies geographical borders, instead pushing culinary boundaries via dishes that simultaneously make you think and make you feel held. Of course, there is jerk chicken on the menu, but it’ll be the lamb that creates the most extreme food envy. There’s a slightly rowdy playlist that will have you questioning whether you’re in a club or restaurant.

• Less a ‘listening bar’ and more of a ‘dancing restaurant’.
• Waiters buzz about in natty lilac or chocolate-brown jackets as I sip Gina’s martini, a tiny but lethal version made with olive-oil vodka and named after the restaurant’s muse and namesake, Taiano’s late mother Gina.
• This is the kind of restaurant you want to lose an afternoon in.
• A pint and packet of crisps downstairs, three courses, and good wine upstairs.
• I started with a cocktail – the 2210 rum punch – which tasted like a holiday and instantly made me crave summertime.

When it opened, there wasn’t an empty seat in the house for weeks as the city’s most fashionable flocked to get a table. One Club Row is the kind of restaurant that gets Londoners talking. This diminutive Soho spot is still our favourite in the Bao family – and well worth the queue. The Wiri Wiri lamp rump comes with a delicious mint crust and a gorgeous artichoke puree, and I’ve heard great things about the pan-seared pimento duck, although we didn’t manage to stretch our stomachs that far this time.

For the food, we started with a crab bisque amuse-bouche to whet the whistle. However, these negative thoughts are washed away as I cross the threshold of the barely opened AngloThai in Marylebone and am embraced by the literal and figurative warmth of the space. Waiters buzz about in natty lilac or chocolate-brown jackets as I sip Gina’s martini, a tiny but lethal version made with olive-oil vodka and named after the restaurant’s muse and namesake, Taiano’s late mother Gina. Gina represents their first swing at nurturing a project all of their own in the locale they call home, sitting snug among the estate agents and corner shops of a nondescript high street at the end of the Overground. Wife and husband duo Ravneet Gill and Mattie Taiano have proven their chops on the capital’s food scene; Gill oversaw the sweet offering at the likes of St. John, Zuma and Black Axe Mangal, while Taiano has cooked for The Camberwell Arms, Franks and Som Saa.

Most importantly though, everything on the menu is delicious. A casual spot specialising in cuisine from the Xian region in North-Central China. Lamb short rib is a revelation, as it their take on nam tok, where wobbly smoked pork belly is offset by nutty roasted rice powder.

There’s still no dessert, and BYOB is still possible, despite rumours to the contrary; even better, the menu is still very reasonably priced, with nothing over £19. The old yellow restaurant sign now hangs on an inside wall. Word got out as food hounds made the pilgrimage there; the simple wooden tables were booked out months in advance. In 1999, Thai food often meant predictable green curries. I’d come here again for date night, or on a weekend with a group of friends to order endless plates of pasta and indulge in cocktails and gossip. I’m a tiramisu aficionado, but I’d actually recommend the lemon meringue here – the hint of fennel added a new depth of flavour and it was easy to stomach, even after the many courses on the menu.

​​This is the first bricks-and-mortar restaurant from Max Rocha – a canalside spot in Hackney. The open kitchen anchors the space, where head chef Jessica Filbey (formerly of the River Café) and her team move with calm precision, pulling pizza dough, slicing porchetta, and plating pasta under the watchful eyes of diners lucky enough to nab a front-row bar stool. Unlike many supremely successful chefs, Nieves Barragán Mohacho took a few years to open a second restaurant after launching her first, the knockout Sabor in Mayfair. But the menu stays joyously true to Bosi’s heritage, and the team staunchly avoids refining dishes beyond anything a Lyonnaise grandmother would recognise (Josephine is also named after Bosi’s own grand-mère).

Paradise Cove opened following a crowdfunding campaign after his original restaurant Sugarcane was forced to close. This deceptively spartan restaurant just off Broadway Market serves up springy hunks of Guinness bread as well as deliciously dense Guinness cake, and even ice cream suffused with that stouty goodness. At Café Cecilia, you can squeeze in more than the requisite amount of the black stuff before lunchtime and operate heavy machinery afterwards. Expect everything from Balkan barbecue to fried doughnut-esque mekici served with jam and cheese, sausage baps, stuffed cabbage sarma, loads of burek and baklava buns. With its distressed flooring, bright white tablecloths and net half-curtains, the trattoria has gone down in legend for its mountainous beef shin ragu pappardelle – though every corner of this menu jostles with greatness. But there’s something uniquely impressive about a restaurant that goes the distance simply by doing their chosen cuisine very well indeed.

Talking of which, most of the meat on the menu is sourced from Scottish estates, though butchered and aged in the meat room downstairs. The closer to the grill you get, the more you may want to consider wearing shorts and a T-shirt – it’s intense, almost like being on the boilerplate of The Flying Scotsman as it chugs up to the Highlands. But another star of the show is the centrepiece wood-burning grill and oven at the far end of the dining room. They’ve assembled something of a crack team, with Ashley Palmer-Watts of Fat Duck and Dinner by Heston fame in the kitchen, front-of-house staff from St John’s and head butcher George Donnelly. It’s the passion project of Oisin Rogers, who has been steering London and Dublin pubs for three decades – most notably and most recently at The Guinea Grill – and Charlie Carroll, founder of Flat Iron steakhouses.

This is a spot that’s deservedly at the vanguard of bringing a whole new experience of West African food to London. The five-course menu, developed over many months (Akoko is the Yoruba word for ‘time’), is a reimagining of the traditional dishes found in Nigeria, Senegal and Ghana in particular. On the menu there might creamy ‘nduja on toast, burrata served with peach and basil or breakfast radishes with aioli. When we talk of young chefs making waves on London’s restaurant scene, Abby Lee’s name won’t be far from in-the-know foodie’s lips. It’s difficult to casinos not on gamstop separate stand-out dishes among the Land, Sea and Earth sections of the menu, but the charred octopus tentacle and neck of pata negra pork are both contenders.

It’s industrial but warm – steel panelling, marble tabletops, and polished concrete floors are softened by canary-yellow booths and shelves stacked with pots and saucepans. At 9pm, a queue still snakes outside while inside, the space hums with life. Settle in with a 3-sip serve (a tiny cocktail made to cleanse the palate), like celeariac with rum or pear and vodka, and argue cheerfully with your dining companions about your must-orders.

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The sprawling building feels like a luxury hotel, and is a multi-space affair, featuring all-day cafe Romano’s, and two cocktail bars (Simpson’s Bar upstairs and Nellie’s in the basement). Pizzettas and flatbreads made using fermented koji and silken tofu get their own section of the menu – and rightly so. But this new outpost in Spitalfields is not vegan, with all manner of dairy- and/or egg-based wonders across the menu. At the original outpost in Portobello, head chef Daniel Watkins’s live fire cooking and ferment laboratory established Holy Carrot as one of London’s great pioneers of vegan cuisine. Try also ‘Gina’s Pasta’, which is simply a damn good plate of spaghetti in a rich and comforting marinara sauce.

I expected these dishes to be given the Michelin treatment – portion sizes reduced, plates prettied up, a foam here or a jús there. The menu celebrates aspects of his terroir – the seafood-heavy accents of the coasts and Gaza; the maftool and freekeh of the traditional, olive-grove-filled centre; and the dried yoghurts and salting and drying traditions of the desert nomads. In spite of its Michelin star, acquired within a year of opening, Oma somehow manages to bridge the gap between elevated, sophisticated dining and a more relaxed, taverna-style restaurant. Located above Agora (the more laid-back ground-floor eatery), it’s the ultimate romantic spot, with flickering candlelight, a soft colour palette and cosy corners.

Now with offshoots in Soho and Mayfair, the original site – on lovely little Lamb’s Conduit Street – remains the best. At the helm is Hiếu Bùi, the godfather of London’s Vietnamese food movement (he also runs the Kêu chain and another branch of Cây Tre in Soho). A family-run ‘modern Korean’ and Time Out’s best London restaurant of 2025.

Some cult dishes haven’t made the jump. The new location sits under a railway arch and is a fresh, pared-back space with a stainless steel bar. London’s most-loved Thai restaurant, now relocated to Shoreditch.

For main, we enjoyed pollock fish balls in a sour orange curry sauce and our first foray away from seafood for the evening, a glistening and succulent pork chop. The menu might be simple (two pizzas – one meat, one vegetarian – four pastas, and a short list of wines and beers), but the dishes pack a punch. The menu is vast and made to share; perfectly pitched seafood dishes, a whole section just for lamb (we especially liked the lamb cutlets Milanesa) and pork (sucking pig ears, Iberian pork ribs, pig trotters). These days, thanks to the recent glut of whipsmart Thai restaurants, London diners are on first-name terms with pad peds and nahm prik paos, squeezing out nam jim jaew sauce like it’s ketchup.

Where Taiano runs the mains, Gill has put together a pleasingly retro dessert menu that reminds me of my school days, albeit far more refined; riffs on rice pudding and chocolate sponge cake are joined by peach cobbler with clotted cream, one of the highlights of our meal. We’re encouraged to try the Tasting Menu to experience the breadth of the menu, ranging from a nigiri selection of bluefin tuna, yellowtail and trout to an aged monkfish paired with smoked eel, ginger sauce and a potato rosti. There’s a bustling open kitchen plan that overlooks the dining space, allowing guests to see first-hand the detailed precision with which the team works.