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.