Canteen

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Few places are as grand and historically significant as the OWO – a hotel that’s home to nine restaurants, including Kioku by Endo. And don’t scrimp on the vegetable sides – I haven’t stopped talking about the sprouting broccolini and the mashed potato, served on a knockout shellfish bisque sauce and topped with lobster. The menu is not the traditional roast or scones that non gamestop casino you might expect, but an unexpected, hold-onto-your-hat, seafood adventure. Taking its name from HRH Elizabeth II, who was born at the Bruton Street address, the restaurant is the creation of Ross Shonhan (Nobu, Zuma, Bone Daddies), who, peculiarly, wanted to imagine what life would have been like for Lilibet had she never become queen. London’s dining scene can be split into two categories – mouth-watering food or eye-wateringly beautiful decor. Cleanse the palate with a refreshing white port and tonic before opting for something funky from the short wine list – we’d order a Chardonnay from the Languedo or a zingy Vinho Verde from Portugal’s Minho region.

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.

Canteen

• Cleanse the palate with a refreshing white port and tonic before opting for something funky from the short wine list – we’d order a Chardonnay from the Languedo or a zingy Vinho Verde from Portugal’s Minho region.
• There is also beef and pork tortellini in a delicate chicken brodo, tonno tonnato, meatballs zuppetta and aglio e olio spaghetti.
• Despite the six previous courses, it’s gone in seconds – the perfect end to a dinner verging on a theatrical experience.
• The lobster pie comes with a googly-eyed crustacean peering out, the caviar is served with blinis and bubble and squeak, while the mid-18th century mock-turtle soup has been modernised in the form of a croquette.
• Now it’s a wonderful, community-focused space, with a menu of Jamaican-inspired home-cooked classics.

Levelling up from her tiny outpost in Peckham, Lee recently brought her exciting modern Malaysian concept to a sweet spot in Lower Clapton. On the menu, a mean, signature Manhattan (rude not to), oysters, steak, fish and a twice-baked chocolate cake simply asking to be devoured. A rickety wooden staircase leads to the restaurant, which is inspired by New York glamour and top-notch hospitality. It was once a nightclub and it remains relatively inconspicuous save for the bold blue awning over the door and the italicised logo, which contradicts surrounding brown-brick, graffiti-covered walls.

This is the kind of restaurant you want to lose an afternoon in. An intensely violet-y Jordanian Saint George Petite Syrah accompanies us through plates of salty-spongy Nabulsi cheese; Sheikh El Mahshi baby aubergines with pickled herbs and walnuts; Rye Bay skate fish kofta and a slow-cooked lamb spiced with mahlab and mastic. Named after a flowering Palestinian thistle, it is a four-level earthy, imaginative space in a quiet symphony of natural greens, lemony yellows and poured creams. Now, behind the sage-green facade of a Notting Hill townhouse, he has unveiled petite Akub with his friend Rasha Khouri. Franco-Palestinian chef Fadi Kattan has done more than anyone to raise the status (and stake the rights) of Palestine’s gastronomic identity.

The Dubonnet Negroni comes with a succinct history lesson, and is a touch more syrupy than its aperitif original, but it was the Naturally Fresh that we’d ask for again, even if it comes off the menu. There’s no elegant way to eat the grilled prawn ‘soup’ (a peppery seafood broth) or the latke-inspired cassava fritters, but that’s what the stack of napkins is for. Despite the six previous courses, it’s gone in seconds – the perfect end to a dinner verging on a theatrical experience.

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.

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.

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You can still order everything with mountains of hummus, albeit an extremely rich kind that speaks to a sense of tradition that remains at the heart of Mangal II. Sleek Turkish fare that remains steeped in tradition. They say ‘Malaysian heat plus juicy wines’, we say ‘the finest sambal in town’. Make a beeline for anything fish-based, such as charcoal-grilled sardines served with pomelo and fried shallot salad. The menu is not online, and changes regularly, but you can always rely on there being a couple of great pizzas and a couple of perfect pastas. What we do have though is thick and freshly hand-pulled noodles at Lanzhou Lamian, a joyfully cramped eatery that closes at 4.30am on weekends, staffed by chefs effortlessly stretching famously chewy, thick noodles.

Will you be crammed into this small space to an almost uncomfortable level? Order the deep fried feta with quince relish, and burnt leeks with escabeche sauce and walnut dukkah. You’d be forgiven for thinking that the food must have suffered in the face of such dedication to the sesh. Both dishes are less than a tenner. But there are also plenty of dishes unique to here. Which actually makes it feel more like a backstreet San Sebastian pintxos bar than any fancy refit ever could.

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.

Then head to this grand Georgian townhouse in the shadow of the Natural History Museum for super seasonal, furiously fresh Med-inspired plates from former Toklas head chef Yohei Furuhashi. Chef-owner Abby Lee’s intensely flavoured dishes are served up in a welcoming, casual style and are so beautiful it’s impossible not to swoon over them. A sensational Greek-ish spot from David Carter, the brawny chef and restaurateur behind the live-fire restaurant forerunner Smokestak and show-stopping Manteca.

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.

Claiming to be the the world’s first Nigerian tapas restaurant, Chuku’s is a Tottenham landmark. A London institution and Time Out’s best restaurant in Soho. The air is thick with chatter, the shelves full of wine. Walking into Levan on a Saturday night is like arriving at a house party.

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.

If you’ve no room for pudding, the hefty cocktail list does a good job of extending sittings. Don’t sleep on the Channa bhatura, a melty chickpea dish served with raita. Tender chunks of Indian cheese smothered in the rich masala sauce is best eaten scooped onto piles of sweet coconut pilau rice. The lobster pie comes with a googly-eyed crustacean peering out, the caviar is served with blinis and bubble and squeak, while the mid-18th century mock-turtle soup has been modernised in the form of a croquette. There’s so much to look at within the lowlit space you could easily sit and just take it all in. But you’d be advised to order a bottle of sherry – the fino en rama, perhaps – which goes well with everything on the menu.

These are still authentic family recipes, cooked with passion and without much finesse, served on pink Formica plates. This has long been one of Soho’s best restaurants, and now it’s making waves all over again. The last few years have been kind to Rogan and his team; in 2022, another of his restaurants, L’Enclume, was awarded a third Michelin star – the highest accolade in the Michelin guide.

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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.

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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.

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.

It’s all accompanied by claypot rice, carefully just-crisped at the bottom, and gorgeous glasses of wine, well-recommended by Michael Mackenzie, including a Sauvignon from Burgundy that proves as delicious as it sounds unlikely. A quartet of wontons similarly steep, more literally, in a chilli vinegar dressing, my dining partner terms “celeriac-y” – we are joyfully baffled at its depth of flavour. The pale pink walls of the restaurant’s latest incarnation are adorned with photos of the family, who first opened Poon’s of Covent Garden, around the corner, in 1973.

The menu is nothing but small plates; sassy smoked eel omelettes, chunky chips done ‘bravas’ style, pickled anchovies, rosy red prawns cooked on the plancha, and cod cheeks with peppers. Of course, Hackney is now overrun with small plates wine bars, so Charlie’s done the only thing he could; bring his uproarious brand of hospitality to Soho. It comes from Charlie Mellor, who, a decade ago, opened Hackney Road’s Laughing Heart, a small plates wine bar named after a rousing Charles Bukowski poem, with a 2am licence and a deeply devious energy.

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.

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 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.

Amy’s parents’ recipe for wind-dried pork sausage is still going strong, and diners can enjoy it in the form of a sausage roll served with an exceedingly shrimpy WO sauce. “There’s a different show every night,” Traveller contributor Rick Jordan said when he reviewed this spot (read the full review in our edit of Soho’s best restaurants). 10 years after opening, it remains one of the best Thai restaurants in London.