Ibai

 The steak king of the UK

Truffle and charizo

Ibai is one of those rare places where the noise around it actually feels justified the moment the first plate lands on your table. Service follows the same philosophy. It’s attentive but never intrusive, informed without sounding rehearsed. You get the sense that everyone working there genuinely understands the food. Ibai is my no 1 restaurant in the UK as they get the simple thing done properly, good ingredients, cooked just right with the right level of seasoning. The following captures my 18th visit.

Wild Flowers

 Mediterranean cuisine through a London lens

Grilled morels, Jersey Royal, Iberico guanciale, St Ewe’s egg yolk

Wild Flower in London sits in that comfortable middle ground between ambition and restraint, the kind of place that clearly cares about food without trying to overwhelm you with theatrics.  The menu leans Mediterranean, but not in a rigid or overly traditional way. Instead, it borrows ideas, flavours, and techniques from across the region and filters them through a modern London lens. You’ll see familiar ingredients like olive oil, citrus, herbs, charred vegetables, and grilled meats, but they’re handled with a light touch rather than a heavy hand. It feels thoughtful without being precious. The below captured my 5th visit.

Row on 5

Best of 2 stars in London

Oyster and caviar

Founded by serial restaurateur and chef Jason Atherton, the tasting menu only, fine dining concept champions British ingredients with a Japanese influence. Row on 5 feels like the kind of restaurant you arrive at already knowing you’re going to be taken care of, and then it quietly exceeds that expectation. The staff move with an ease that instantly puts you at rest, reading the table well, explaining when you want detail, and stepping back when you don’t. There’s a sense of purpose without pressure, which sets the tone for the meal. From the moment you sit down, moving from one room to another, time seems to slow slightly. The pacing is thoughtful, the room hums rather than buzzes, and you feel encouraged to settle in rather than rush through an experience.

Moi

Japanese grill king

Baked Rice, Wild Mushrooms, Cacklebean Egg Yolk

Moi in Soho doesn’t try to ease you in gently. From the moment you step through the door, it feels like you’ve walked into something alive, something a little electric. The room hums with energy, not just from the crowd but from the open grill itself, where flames flicker and flare like part of the performance. You can smell it before you even sit down, that deep, smoky richness that only real fire cooking can deliver. While Moi also does great cold dishes such as sushi and rolls, what really makes this place stand out is the grill dishes. The menu leans heavily into the grill, and rightly so. It’s the beating heart of the kitchen. What stands out is the precision behind the intensity. Nothing feels careless or overdone.

Alta

Open fire Spanish concept

Crab Rice, Pomelo

ATLA in Soho sits right in the middle of the kind of foot traffic that can make or break a restaurant. On arrival, it gives off a confident first impression. The space feels clean and modern without trying too hard, with warm lighting, open sightlines, and a layout that keeps things moving even when it’s busy.  The menu leans into a modern grill concept, with a mix of meat, seafood, and vegetable dishes designed for sharing. On paper, it’s promising. There’s a sense that the kitchen wants to keep things simple and let the grill do the work. Below captured my 3rd and 4th visit.

Burro

 The new Italian kid in the garden

Anchovies, crostini and butter

From the people behind the infamous Italian restaurant Trullo in North London, Burro is the kind of place that arrives in London with a quiet confidence. Inside, the room is warm without trying too hard, with soft lighting, pale wood, and just enough texture to stop it from feeling generic. The staff strikes a balance that’s harder than it looks: attentive without hovering, knowledgeable without sounding rehearsed. On my visit, the server talked through the menu like someone who had actually tasted everything, offering quick, honest opinions rather than a memorised script. Burro isn’t aiming to reinvent Italian food or chase trends. It’s trying to cook familiar things well, with good ingredients, and serve them in a room where people want to stay a while. 

Nanyang Blossom

 South East Asian flavours showcase

Nanyang chicken rolls

Founded by Chef Daren Liew, the concept of Nanyang Blossom draws from the idea of “Nanyang,” a term that evokes migration, cultural exchange, and the blending of Southeast Asian traditions with new environments. That idea of movement and adaptation feels central to the restaurant’s identity. Rather than recreating a single country or moment in time, Nanyang Blossom seems interested in what happens when flavours, memories, and techniques travel and settle somewhere new, in this case, London. The food itself is thoughtful and confident, rooted in Southeast Asian influences while clearly shaped for a London audience that values balance, avoiding extremes and instead aiming for harmony. Dishes arrive beautifully presented but not precious, inviting you to dig in rather than admire from afar. 

Quality Chop House

 Quality for a reason

Lamb, soy and pear

Quality Chop House sits on a quiet stretch of Farringdon Road and feels like it has been there forever, which in many ways it has. You can feel the weight of the building and the history, but it never tips into nostalgia for its own sake. This is a place built around meat, British produce, and cooking that respects time and technique. The menu reads clearly, without clever tricks or distractions. You are not being asked to decode anything. It feels honest. You sit back, glance around, and realize that the restaurant trusts you to enjoy yourself without being told how special it is. The below captures my 13th visit.

La Palombe

The kind of neighborhood restaurant I need

Confit duck leg, celeriac

A neighborhood restaurant in Kensington, La Palombe feels like the sort of place you settle into rather than rush through. You get the sense that many of the people dining here have been before, that this is a place built on repeat visits rather than one-off hype. That atmosphere matters more than it might seem, because it frames everything that follows. You arrive relaxed, and you stay that way. It’s an ideal setting for a long conversation, a quiet celebration, or even just an evening where the main goal is to eat well and feel looked after. The concept of the food is rooted in restraint, balance, and a clear respect for ingredients. This is cooking that doesn’t try to surprise you for the sake of it.

Moi

Tuna Chop Shop

 

140kg Spanish blue thin tuna

Moi in Soho has always felt like a Japanese restaurant that understands restraint. That calm confidence made it the perfect setting for Tuna Chop Shop, a one-off special event that felt less like a themed dinner and more like being invited into a quietly obsessive chef’s personal playground. The menu for the night was centred entirely on a 140kg Spanish blue thin tuna, but not in a predictable “tasting menu flex” way. Instead, it leaned into craft. Cuts were treated with the same respect you’d expect at a serious fish market, but filtered through Moi’s precise, modern cooking. From the first plate, it was clear this wasn’t about luxury for its own sake. It was about understanding the fish fully, from texture to temperature to fat content, and letting each part speak clearly. Relaxed, thoughtful, and quietly confident, exactly what you hope for when a restaurant puts its reputation on the line for a one-off idea.

Ibai

London's finest 

King crab rice

Yes another Ibai post, it is now my no 1 London restaurant alongside The Ledbury. What I love about Ibai is the casual vibe and top-notch open fire cooking. This is a place that wants you to pay attention, not to be impressed by tricks. The Basque influence is clear but not shouted. It is present in the restraint, in the respect for ingredients, in the way fire and salt seem to be treated as tools rather than signatures. The menu reads with clarity. It does not try to do everything. It makes choices and stands by them. You sense that the kitchen is more interested in depth than range, and that confidence is reassuring. The below covers my 16th and 17th visits.

Bonheur by Matt Abé

 Another legend in the making?

Celeriac, Royale Oscietra caviar, allium, hazelnut

Bonheur by Matt Abé arrives in Mayfair with the quiet confidence of someone who has spent nearly two decades learning how to make the exceptional look effortless. Housed at 43 Upper Brook Street in the very building that once sheltered Le Gavroche, the restaurant signals both a respect for British fine-dining heritage and a desire to start a new chapter.  Bonheur opened in early November 2025 as Matt Abé’s first solo venture after a long career under Gordon Ramsay and others, and the project is backed by Ramsay himself, who secured a long lease on the premises — a level of institutional support that helps explain the impeccably choreographed service and the resources poured into the dining room.

The Cocochine

The finest British ingredient showcase

Ceylon King Crab Salad, Consommé, Apple

Walking into The Cocochine in Mayfair feels less like entering a restaurant and more like stepping into a carefully composed mood. The room is calm, softly lit, and has a 'very Mayfair' club vibe. Co-owned by chef Larry Jayasekaram, the cooking respects tradition without being trapped by it and embraces refinement without losing warmth, thanks to Larry's light touch of his Sri Lankan roots. It appeals to diners who value craft and comfort in equal measure. Reason being it has access directly in the food supply chain, as another co-owner has an Island in Scotland for seafood and a farm in Northamptonshire for meat and vegetables. It has recently replaced its ALC offering with a tasting menu, which I feel is the right approach that enables Larry to be more playful in his cooking.

74 Charlotte Street by Ben Murphy

Chef Ben's new gig in London

Lobster, pumpkin, yuzu

74 Charlotte Street by Ben Murphy arrives in Fitzrovia with an easy confidence: a soft, deliberately understated dining room downstairs and a street-level bar that’s already being talked about as somewhere to linger. The site wears its history lightly; it’s the space that once housed Mere, so it is easy to compare, since both trade as modern European fine dining restaurants. On the menu, Ben Murphy’s food sits in that same register: classically trained technique steered toward accessible flavours, with a few playful flourishes to catch your eye.

Camille

 Down-to-earth French bistro

Puffed Pig’s Skin, Smoked Eel & Tarragon

Camille sits just off the noise of London Bridge, close enough to feel the pulse of the area but tucked away enough to offer a sense of escape once you’re inside. The food at Camille is rooted firmly in French technique, but it isn’t trapped by it. The menu reads like it was written by someone who loves classic French cooking but lives firmly in modern London. Dishes feel familiar without being predictable, and there’s a quiet restraint at work that lets ingredients speak rather than drowning them in unnecessary flourish, such as tripe stew and shallot tart. 

Kima

 Whole fish champion

Dry aged Yellowfin tuna steak

This is my fourth time coming to Kima, and I come here for one reason: For top-class fish cooking. Kima champions a “fin-to-gill” approach - whole fish cooked over charcoal, with minimal waste and a reverence for flavour born of fire and sea. The team behind it is experienced — the restaurant is a Marylebone project from people connected to the OPSO group, and the menu and presentation make clear they are aiming for a modern Greek seafood identity rather than a nostalgic one. What you eat at Kima is the reason you come, and the cooking keeps that promise. The menu is built around whole fish, seafood grilled or barbecued over coals, and a handful of meze and vegetable dishes meant to complement rather than compete.

Quality Chop House

The Great British meat temple

Yorkshire game and hazelnut terrine

I almost lost count of how many times I have been to Quality Chop House. I love meat, and not many places in London cook meat in the old-fashioned way as well as Quality Chop House. It is built around a simple, old idea that feels quietly radical in modern London: cook what makes sense for the season, respect the animal, and don’t get in the way of good ingredients. The menu changes constantly, not out of restlessness but necessity, and it reads like a ledger of what has arrived from trusted farms that week. Beef, pork, lamb, and game appear in different guises to ensure diners get the best of what Quality Chop House can offer. The below covers my visits no.11 and 12.

Moi

Redefining Japanese food in London 

Sashmi of tuna, trout, sea bream and red mullet

Moi sits on a busy Soho street that never really switches off, but stepping inside feels like lowering the volume on the city rather than escaping it entirely. It sits in Soho with the quiet confidence of a place that doesn’t need to announce itself, and that same restraint carries straight through to the food. This is Japanese-inspired cooking that leans into precision rather than spectacle, and the menu reads like a carefully edited statement rather than a list designed to impress by volume. There is a reason why I am back again for Moi for my 3rd visit.

Alta

Star in the making

Pork Trotters, Beef Tongue, Tripe Terrine

My second visit to the open fire Spanish-themed Alta in Soho. The concept is rooted in tradition without being trapped by it, and that balance is felt most clearly in how the menu is structured. Rather than overwhelming the table with regional labels or historical explanations, the food speaks through restraint and confidence. Small plates sit alongside more substantial dishes, encouraging a rhythm of eating that mirrors Spanish dining habits without copying them outright. Once the food starts arriving, the logic of the concept becomes even clearer.

Wild Flowers

 A Mediterranean star in London

Red prawn carpaccio, stracciatella, pistachio

A Mediterranean-inspired neighbourhood restaurant and wine bar focused on seasonal produce and charcoal-led cooking. Arriving at Wildflowers feels like slipping through a narrow door into a sunlit terrace on the Mediterranean rather than into a corner of Pimlico. Set in Newson’s Yard just off Pimlico Road, the restaurant occupies a handsome reimagined warehouse space where exposed brick columns, tall rafters and a mezzanine bar create a sense of height and calm that’s both casual and consciously stylish. There’s an understated theatricality to the layout: the open kitchen is visible enough to be part of the evening’s rhythm without dominating it.

Legardo

 Deep fry chaos

Gambas Cristal, Fried Egg

Legado arrives in Shoreditch with a clear brief: bring the breadth of Spain to London without falling back on the familiar tapas shorthand, and to do so with real theatricality and craft. The restaurant is the latest project from Nieves Barragán Mohacho — the chef behind Sabor — and that pedigree shows in every thoughtful touch, from the bespoke ovens imported from Spain to the decision to do much of the butchery in-house. Based on my first visit back in late summer, I liked it enough to come back, given that the menu is so big and I was keen to try out other dishes.

Corenucopia by Clare Smyth

A real 'luxury bistro'

 

Gilda and fried chicken with caviar

Corenucopia by Clare Smyth arrives in Chelsea with an unapologetically confident pitch: a “luxury bistro” that brings the same meticulous technique and ingredient respect of Clare Smyth’s flagship to a room that’s meant to feel more accessible than a three-Michelin-star tasting menu. That lineage matters here because it shapes not only expectations but execution: the menus are built around elevated British classics (think fish & chips and toad in the hole) rather than culinary experiments, with a focused potato side menu inspired by the chef’s Northern Irish childhood.

Ibai X Casa Julian

Meaty 4 hands goodness

Sirloin tartare

I am a super fan of Ibai, and I was lucky enough to have the chance to visit Cas Julian in the past. So when my No1 London restaurant is hosting a one-off special event to cook up a storm together with the team from Casa Julian, I booked without thinking. The occasion carried a simple promise: take a house known for absolute devotion to beef and let it exist, briefly, somewhere else, without dilution. Casa Julián arrived not as a brand but as a practice. The knives, the boards, the quiet confidence of the grill team told you immediately that this wasn’t a pop-up chasing novelty. It was a transplant. The first smells were smoke and fat, familiar to anyone who has stood near that grill in Tolosa, but slightly uncanny in a different setting.