The London Eye at Christmas

Cabbies love it, fish is brought in daily from Billingsgate, and service is so no-nonsense it’s entertaining – Masters ticks a lot of ‘London institution’ boxes. Step through from the small takeaway section into a simple dining room painted floor-to-ceiling turquoise. Fellow diners, from older couples to office workers and tourists, sit at functional tables that lend a canteen feel to the place. Food, though, is of a high quality. Starters showcased the fruits of the fryer, from spring rolls to whitebait and battered mussels, but we stuck to the complimentary bread and cold prawn. A wide range of fish comes either battered or grilled (generally pricier). Classic cod was generously sized and delivered quick-sharp from the fryer, its soft flesh suggesting freshness. Grilled tuna had the thickness of two T-bone steaks and showed good grill-bar charring, though its dryness needed the rich tartare sauce and free juicy pickles to provide lubrication. Accompanying chips were pale and uninteresting, yet so hot they practically fizzed. You can bring your own booze here, despite wine being available from £10.95 a bottle.

The Anchor & Hope has dominated Waterloo’s gastronomic scene for over a decade, and is still among its highlights. The well-known ‘no reservations’ seating policy doesn’t seem to deter punters, meaning that diners wanting to sample the robust seasonal British cooking must often wait in the pub area (separated from the restaurant by a heavy drape) until a table becomes free. Fortunately, decent draught ales and wines are on hand. On busy weekday evenings, things can get noisy, and some diners are seated at communal tables, so this isn’t an ideal spot for an intimate dinner. But there’s a convivial vibe, helped by pleasingly down-to-earth yet efficient staff. Maroon walls are hung with for-sale modern art, and heavily weathered wooden tables are surrounded by mismatched chairs – but don’t mistake the A&H for a prosaic gastropub. It’s always filled with chatter, and customers range from laddy City boys to thespians filling up before a visit to the nearby Old or Young Vic theatres. The nose-to-tail menu features dishes such as thinly sliced ox tongue with lentils, green sauce and mustard fruits; and braised suckling kid with bacon, fennel, chickpeas and aïoli. Vegetarian food is limited, but a flavourful chicory tart came with a rich concoction of dried ceps, cream and parmesan.

As you might expect from the younger sibling of the Wolseley, there’s glam-factor aplenty here, and the Delaunay manages to attract the intelligentsia out on smart dinner dates. Its interior provides more than a fitting setting, echoing European grand brasserie design, but also evoking Edwardian clubs and the Orient Express. The menu is far from cutting-edge, experimental or modernist; instead, it celebrates the heritage dishes of mittel-Europe, particularly Austria, Germany and France. Tarte flambée (from Alsace) arrives as thin as a crispbread, but topped like a pizza with smoked bacon and shallots cooked to softness; piping hot, it’s a great appetiser. Wiener schnitzel might follow: boneless veal beaten to a thin layer with a mallet, then breadcrumbed and fried – a classic dish, perfectly created. Desserts include strudels, or for the chocolate-lover, what might well be London’s best sachertorte. This is a proper brasserie operating all day, serving breakfast from 7am on weekdays, afternoon teas from 3pm. The adjacent café (called the Counter) is open throughout the day, supplying snacks such as chicken soup with dumplings, or salt beef pretzels. Refreshingly, you’re treated with equal decorum at the Delaunay, whether you’re a big spender, a celeb, or just popping in for welsh rarebit or hot chocolate. It’s a real treat of a place. The design is of particular note. David Collins has long been the go-to guy for restaurateurs wanting chic, high-class surrounds in which their

Despite growing competition, the Opera Tavern remains one of Covent Garden's best dining options and among London’s top tapas restaurants. Formerly a pub, it’s split into a slightly charmless upstairs restaurant and a cosy, mirror-backed bar at street level. The latter has been stylishly updated with chocolate leather bar stools, copper spotlights and an open grill; the main kitchen is in the beer cellar. The Spanish-Italian menu is kept fresh with regular specials. The signature burger of juicy ibérico pork and foie gras remains deservedly popular, though more inventive combinations better showcase the kitchen’s delicate touch and careful sourcing of ingredients. Char-coated venison was enlivened by jerusalem artichoke, pickled walnuts and truffle, while the natural sweetness of scallops (served in the shell) was balanced by a feather-light pea, fennel and mint purée. Watch out, though: portions are dainty and it’s easy to rack up a hefty bill. The Spanish and Italian wine list is well curated; smooth and nutty manzanilla pasada is the ideal aperitif for sherry sceptics. Little touches such as allowing diners a taste before committing to a glass exemplify the sophisticated, amiable service. Opera Tavern is part of the Salt Yard Group, along with Dehesa in Soho and Salt Yard in Fitzrovia.