September 2019: The Thai spiced rice salad served at Kin + Deum in Bermondsey tops our latest selection of to-die-for dishes in London’s restaurants, closely followed by the sauerkraut and cheddar croquettes at Lino in Clerkenwell.
Other covetable plates include the manti dumplings with smoked aubergine at Turkish high-flyer Yeni, the prosaically titled lobster crumpets from Rovi (cousin of Nopi) and the classic curry puffs at Singaporean street-food peddler Old Chang Kee. But it isn’t all about savoury stuff. For afters, we recommend the brown bread ice cream with popped corn at Orasay in Ladbroke Grove, while the hot chocolate dispensed by Le Café Alain Ducasse on Coal Drops Yard is just fabulous.
At last! It’s Time Out’s comprehensive countdown of the capital’s most coveted plates. In a food scene as hot as London’s, decision fatigue is real, so we’ve agonised over the city’s menus for you – recording the dishes to die for at London’s best restaurants and moveable street food stalls.
100 best dishes in London
The very model of a modern Thai restaurant, Kin + Deum is a laidback, minimalist space serving up big helpings of thrilling, Bangkok-inspired food with the aid of some genuinely lovely staff. Top of the hit list is the Thai spiced rice salad – a crunchy, chewy tumble of rice clusters (think wet, savoury granola) muddled with whispers of scallions, fresh coriander leaves, slivers of red onion, ginger and creamy whole cashews. Ripples of lime cut through the salt-sweet backdrop, followed by short, sharp smacks of heat from tiny chillies. As a signature ‘all-day snack’, it’s perfect.
You know about The Palomar and The Barbary – well, this King’s Cross cracker comes from the same crew, and it doesn’t disappoint. Expect a bold, thrilling menu highlighting the revved-up flavours of modern Jerusalem and beyond – including a truly memorable Moroccan fennel salad with a yoghurty harissa dressing. Every mouthful gleaned from this thick tangle of crunchy stuff reveals a new surprise – a halved olive here, a whole toasted almond there, plus the sweetness of orange and the heat of fresh chilli, all strewn with zingy fresh coriander, mint and parsley. It’s the most reassuringly moreish salad you’ll have all week.
The folks at Xi’an Biang Biang know a thing or two about pulling and twirling strands of starchy goodness. They produce excellent hand-pulled ‘thin’ noodles, but our vote goes to their aptly named ‘belt’ versions – a current fave on London’s foodie scene. Bowls of these chilli oil-slicked ribbons come slathered with any number of delicious sauces and toppings: best of the lot must be the ‘special’ spicy beef, although we also fancy the cumin lamb and ‘big plate’ on-the-bone chicken. The combination of satisfyingly thick, chewy carbs with hunks of tender meat makes for a pleasing (if messy) mouthful – so avoid wearing your favourite white shirt.
Once a linoleum warehouse (lino, geddit?), this buzzy semi-industrial eatery has a day-to-night vibe that suits all comers and all occasions, from breezy business lunches to dinner dates with drinks. The food is similarly modish but accessible, a selection of fashionable small plates devised by Richard Falk (previously head chef at The Dairy). There’s a lot to like here pistachio-studded game terrine, tempura oysters, beef tartare, but we’d single out the sauerkraut and cheddar croquettes, a trio of creamy, crunchy and staggeringly delicious morsels serviced with truffled mayonnaise. The perfect accompaniment to some lively chatter.
Henry Harris is a chef’s chef who doesn’t pander to trends, preferring to concentrate on timeless, bourgeois Gallic food without poncey flurries. Take his emblematic calf’s brain – a dish that was ‘always on’ at his much-missed Racine. Here it’s as sublime as ever: rich, smooth and unctuous, with the texture of silken tofu. Harris brines the brain, then fries it, before drowning it in a vat of butter; the only additions are parsley and a heap of plump, vinegary capers to cut through the richness. Heaven.
It was a long, long time coming, but when ‘MasterChef’ winner Tim Anderson’s Nanban finally opened in a former pie-and-mash shop in Brixton, it was an out-and-out hit. This inspired Japanese-Caribbean fusion dish – which playfully roots the restaurant in its neighbourhood while respecting Japanese convention – swiftly gained pet status. The deep, rich goat-curry broth reveals chunks of spiced, braised meat and wiggly noodles (originally served on the side). A tea-pickled egg, some eye-wateringly fiery bamboo shoots (pickled with scotch bonnet chillies) and a scattering of spiced seafood powder add yet more depth and flavour. No dessert required.
You know those dishes that are absolutely delicious but enormously fiddly to make? Well, this is one of them (and that’s why restaurants exist). The signature dessert at Honey & Co is a creamy, vanilla- and honey-tinged, whipped feta filling loaded on to a crisp base of kadaif pastry, topped with herbs, nuts and seasonal fruit. Sounds a breeze, but it’s a dish best left to the professionals. The fact that the owners also namecheck this creation as ‘the one from Honey & Co’ on the menu at offshoot Honey & Smoke merely alerts you to its celebrity status.
Laksa may be oh-so-trendy these days, but this Malaysian café-diner has been peddling its giant bowls of noodle deliciousness for two decades – and punters can still look forward to humongous helpings of spicy coconutty broth packed with juicy prawns, thin rice vermicelli, puffy fish balls, the works. C&R’s vibe is functional but contemporary, staff are friendly but terrifyingly efficient, and the lighting is set to ‘interrogation-level-bright’. Not ideal for a cosy first date, but great for an off-track fill-up.
While super-chef Ollie Dabbous’s Michelin-starred Hide Above is super-sleek and exclusive, Hide Ground is a bit more lovable with chatty staff, touches of theatre and a menu of hot-ticket modern dishes. The food is simply divine from beginning to end, but don’t miss the warm, buttery acorn cake, baked in a teeny pot, which comes richly endowed with luscious smoked caramel and Cornish clotted cream. You also get to choose your own liqueur for pouring over this gorgeous confection. It’s seriously pricey, but worth the thrill.
Hand-related things can be bad: hand balls; hand guns; hand-wash only. And don’t even get me started on handwiches (just Google them). But hand rolls, aka temaki, are awesome, especially at Jugemu, where chef Yuya Kikuchi makes them to order for punters sitting at the counter. He uses beautiful fillings matched with still-warm sushi rice, and hands each little package over the instant it’s ready, so that the seaweed wrapper stays brittle. Eat immediately.
Like the titular fish eggs, Roe is tiny but bursting with flavour. Occupying a dinky shipping container in Pop Brixton, it comprises just two communal tables and a teeny kitchen that punches well above its weight. Seafood is the order of the day, so reel in a goodly number of small plates, from red gurnard carpaccio to the utterly brilliant squid ‘noodles’ – pale ribbons cut from the titular cephalopods, tossed in sesame oil and given an occasional sharp, fiery hit of fermented hot sauce. All sitting atop a handful of verdant and crunchy pak choi leaves arranged in a wet, nest-like little heap.
A playful Thai twist on salted caramel, this ice cream from the duo behind Som Saa is fiendishly good – they get the palm sugar from a Thai-based sourcing company, owned by mentor David Thompson, that supplies Nahm in Bangkok and Heston’s Fat Duck in Bray. You could eat it on its own, but oh no. Instead, they take two scoops of this creamy, silky, salty, burnt-toffee deliciousness and add chargrilled, caramelised, only-just-ripe banana halves (first marinated in coconut cream, pandan leaves and fresh turmeric) – plus a final sprinkle of sesame seeds. With alternating moments of salt and sweet, creamy and crunchy, bitterness and spice, it’ll take your breath away.
From £2.80 (£5 for two, except the Singapore chilli crab-stick puff)
Founded back in 1956, this Singaporean street-food chain is now peddling its legendary curry puffs in Covent Garden – and pretty damn good they are too. These big boys are the spicy counterparts to their Cornish cousins, with satisfyingly buttery pastry encasing a range of different fillings. The full range is on display behind an old-style glass counter – from the ‘classic’ curried chicken with potato coated in warm spices to veggie curried potato, black pepper tuna and even a take on Singapore chilli crab (made with crab sticks). And with prices starting at £2.80 a pop, the value’s hard to beat.
Venue says "Best pastry in London. No question at all." - Giles Coren, The Times
The main characters behind this shiny new Notting Hill sophisticate are a starry couple: she is Michel Roux Jnr’s daughter; he is a former head chef at Le Gavroche. Together they have created a classy Franco-Italian venue with a menu that’s oddly divided into six different character traits: ‘subtle’ for example, might mean celeriac cacio e pepe – a dish that has deservedly become something of a signature. The sauce is every bit as creamy, cheesy and peppery as you’d want, but it comes locked in an embrace with a pile of celeriac shavings that are delicately sweet and beautifully al dente. Dainty, dazzling stuff indeed.
You know that a vegan dish is special when you recommend it to a load of chest-beating City alphas with rib-eyes on speed dial and they all love it. That’s the deal with this salad at The Ned’s ‘California kitchen’. The coconut is fresh, chewy and served in long, lavish curls amid a tumble of green papaya, palm hearts, technicolour veg and zingy herbs with a fragrant Asian-style dressing. Your mouth AND body will thank you for it.
This dish looks a bit like a Jackson Pollock sandwiched into a brioche bun: the squirts and drips of fiery gochujang mayo; the Asian slaw splurging out; the crisply bubbled batter coating the buttermilk-bathed thigh meat... For those who think that gourmet fried chicken, like Pollock, is still somehow counter-culture, this is a work of art – and tastewise, it’s also priceless. Just don’t go dressed in your date-night finery, as your favourite duds will also be mercilessly Pollocked as you try to eat the bastard with dignity. In fact, did we say date? Scratch that – this is food that should be kept strictly between mates.
Picture a cheesy cube with the chew-and-bounce of a ’mallow and you’re halfway there. To make this brilliant little snack, the chefs at Peruvian hotspot Chicama (the Chelsea sibling to Pachamama) soak tapioca pearls in milk, then stir in a heap of full-flavoured parmesan. Next, they press it in a tray, wait for it to set, cut it into ’mallow-shaped cubes, dust it with tapioca flour and deep-fry it. Because, let’s face it, everything tastes better deep-fried. The crisp-edged, chewy-in-the-middle cubes are pretty damn delicious on their own, but also come with blobs of ocopa (a faintly cheesy sauce spiked with fruity amarillo chillies and even blended fresh marigolds). This is tapioca, but not as you know it.
It’s easy to see why this dish has amassed a cult following in London – and why it was one of the culinary calling cards that the owners of Trullo decided to include on the menu at their second restaurant, Padella. Wide, thin strips of light and stretchy pappardelle – rolled that same day, just before opening – are tossed with a delectably garlicky ragù that has been simmered for eight hours to make the beef melt-in-the-mouth wonderful. A light coating of freshly grated parmesan, and it’s ready to be devoured (after its Instagram photocall, obvs). A slow-cooked scene-stealer that will keep you coming back for more.
This one-time special is now a regular feature of Uchi’s menu, thanks to its pure deliciousness and veggie-friendly credentials. Comprising a mixture of crunchy fried peppers, shredded carrots cooked with sesame seeds, meaty shiitake mushrooms, lightly battered broccoli and a lick of mayo, all wrapped in super-healthy violet-hued black rice and a strip of salty nori, it’s a brilliantly orchestrated jumble of textures and flavours – it's also a technicolour dose of your five-a-day that’s as pretty as the Pinterest-worthy dining room in which you eat it. Meat-eaters: don’t miss out. Vegans: they’ll be kind enough to make you a batch without the mayo.
Pies, pies, glorious pies! If you’re after something fancier than your average Pukka, then head down to this opulent Holborn brasserie, which has a dedicated ‘pie room’ in one corner of the restaurant. Different fillings abound and the pastry is always perfect, although nothing beats the curried mutton version – tender meat, with a flavourful curry sauce and some tiny cubes of mango adding a little hit of sweetness. Pie addicts take note: there’s a hatch for takeaways if you want to prolong the pleasure at home.
Venue says Join our Head Sommelier, Michael Raebel for a unique wine experience with our newly launched Wine Discoveries available from £45.
All the food at Xu – a smart Taiwanese joint from the peeps behind cult hit Bao – is ace, although this little dazzler is the tops. Tiny jewels of smoked eel lie hidden within the cold soupy base. Floating on its surface are disks of crimson chilli oil, like blooming algae on a Martian pond, and there’s even an elegant coil of dried soy daikon on top. You’ll journey through salt and sweet, soot and tang… even the faintest hint of coriander-stalk soap. Enjoy the ride.
Venue says XU's new brunch menu comes with free-flowing Perrier-Jouët Champagne, for just £25 extra per person! Available Saturdays and Sundays!
Think cauliflower is ‘basic’? Think again: it’s been the brassica of choice at hip restaurants for a while now. For this stellar dish from Haggerston barbecue hangout Berber & Q, they parboil an entire head of cauliflower, then slather it in an incredible 20-ingredient Levantine butter, before sticking it on the griddle for flame-grilling (basting with more butter the whole time, obvs). It’s then topped off with molasses, parsley, pine nuts, pomegranate seeds and rose petals. Taste it and weep with joy.
Haute cuisine in Hackney? It may sound unlikely, but Cornerstone is breaking the grungy mould thanks to Tom Brown – a chef who knows how to give ozone-fresh seafood a proper high-end workout. Consider a pair of pickled oysters, each soft, squidgy mollusc anointed with a blob of mild horseradish crème fraîche, minuscule cubes of diced celery and oh-so-tiny sprigs of dill. All sitting in pool of pickling juice heavily laced with dill oil that reminded us of the magical, vivid green elixir consumed by Elphaba’s mum in ‘Wicked’.
‘Have you had the coconut cream pie yet?’ That’s how most conversations about Jacob the Angel go. The jewel of the menu at this teeny Neal’s Yard coffee shop (from the people behind The Barbary and The Palomar), it’s a mini pastry case with a thick creamy coconut-studded custard filling (the texture is reminiscent of tinned rice pud). To top it off? An elegant swirl of not-too-sweet Italian meringue. Pudding perfection.
A whopping great restaurant outside a shopping centre in Stratford, Sichuan Grand lives up to its name on both counts and there are dishes on its vast menu that linger long in the memory. Like the shredded jellyfish. Pale gold and cut into shimmering ribbons, it’s faintly crunchy but also gelatinous, like gnawing the end of a chicken bone. It’s also refreshingly chilled and served with a black vinegar dressing that makes the whole thing delicately sharp but also fiercely garlicky. You’ll look at the scary blobs washed up on the beach in a whole new light once you’ve tasted this remarkable dish.
If you’re after some serious small-plates fun, bag a spot at Sabor’s ground-floor Counter, where all-round flawless tapas is the name of the game. There’s no shortage of winners, although their lovely-looking tartaleta (a fluted case of thin pastry filled with fragrant fruit) is right up there: ours came packed with rhubarb (poached with orange, vanilla and star anise) plus creamy, booze-laced mascarpone, but the kitchen also rings the seasonal changes with combos such as peach and nectarine. Whatever the fruit, this tartaleta is sigh-inducing perfection.
Chef Jason Boxer made his name at St Leonards and Brunswick House, but he’s now flying solo at Orasay – a smart-casual, feelgood restaurant on Ladbroke Grove. Named (loosely) after the Hebridean island of Orsay, it specialises in seafood – although the star turn as far as we’re concerned is a dessert with zero piscine connections. Imagine a small metal cup, its chilly sides glistening with beads of condensation, containing a shower of chewy, crunchy toasted popcorn over a dollop of sweet-salt brown-bread ice cream. Not exactly the elixir of life, but close. In a word, sublime.
Kiln rocks. And what this hugely successful sibling to Smoking Goat is especially great at is creating new dishes with stripped-back, edgy, Thai-inspired flavours, but without coconut cream. This fragrant, fiery curry is no exception: made ‘dry’ (more of a stir-fry, really), it uses the freshest day-boat fish (no more than eight hours from ocean to plate), three kinds of rare chilli – one of the few things they import – and a punchy curry paste, bashed by hand every day in a pestle and mortar. The clean, bright flavours are phenomenal: you’ll want to lean across the counter and kiss the chef.
£7.50 (starter) / £13.00 (main)
Something of a Southwark icon, the brilliant Tardis-like Baltic has been going strong since 2001, serving gutsy regional food from the Eastern European countries bordering the Baltic Sea. There’s some terrific stuff on offer here, but we’d single out the fat, juicy pelmeni dumplings – actually more like slithery ravioli, packed with pork and veal, piled on the plate and strewn with chopped green chives and crispy, crunchy fried onion flakes. If you’re an absolute dumpling addict, head to Baltic’s bar, where they serve sharing boards loaded with pelmeni, pierogi and kopytka – perfect with a carafe of house vodka.
£4 for one, £10 for three
After a stint at Dalston’s Pamela bar, Club Mexicana has now set up shop in London's first vegan pub, The Spread Eagle. It’s all plant-based, colourful, zingy, and spicy stuff. Our top pick is its beer-battered 'tofish' taco. An odd name, but it tells you all you need to know: the ‘to’ is tofu masquerading as ‘fish’, which is dished up with pickled cabbage and sour cream.
So simple. So stunning. We’re talking about a snack here – a combination of olives, labneh, chickpeas and homemade dukkah, to be precise. At Lilliputian Popolo, the olives are given the ‘pane’ treatment (dusted in flour, rolled in egg and a coating of fine breadcrumbs) and then deep-fried. You bite into the crunchy shell and lo! – there’s a jewel of shiny, purplish kalamata inside. It’s a premium olive – gutsy, briny and brilliant.
London’s first vegan ‘chicken shop’ (yes, you heard right) is all about ‘meaty’ wheat gluten (aka seitan), whether you order peppery popcorn-style nuggets, battered strips or their standout Temple deluxe ‘burger’ – seared to medium-rare and served with cheese, tangy sauce, plenty of lettuce, fake bacon (‘facon’) and thick-cut pickle in a soft brioche bun. There’s no indoor seating and no booze here – but who cares. You can also chomp the ‘deluxe’ burger at Temple’s second shrine to seitan in Camden.
In case you don’t know, purin gyunyu is a delicate Japanese milk pudding rather like a panna cotta-lite. Jidori’s Covent Garden branch has it down to a fine art, perhaps serving the pud topped with an impossibly delicate scoop of cherry granita and some sneaky, fresh cherries hiding between the layers – a truly delicious combination of flavour and texture. Depending on the time of year you might also find a rhubarb and elderflower riff.
It may not rival Le Gavroche for sheer class, but this simple stripped-back restaurant has one dish that can give the two-Michelin-starred grandee a run for its money. We’re talking about its retro pain perdu – a huge brick of French toast that’s spongy in the middle but with a crisp, caramelised, burnt-sugar edge. That would be beautiful enough in its own right, but Hatched has also gilded its glorious dessert with generous shards of honeycomb and a scoop of velvety vanilla ice cream. Guard this one jealously.
Billed as a ‘pie deli’, this relaxed mini chain serves up its wares to all-comers, from King’s Cross creatives to footie fans en route to the Emirates Stadium. Obviously, everyone eats the pies, but our top tip for premiership stardom is the madras veggie scotch egg – a rich and warmly spiced offering made from chickpeas and beetroot that tastes a little like kedgeree. Despite the meaty connotations, they’re pretty hot on veggie, vegan and gluten-free stuff at Piebury – right down to a GF toffee apple pie and chocolate brownie.
Not one for the squeamish, this big-boned Sichuan restaurant on Caledonian Road deals in the kind of authentic Chinese regional specialities that might make novices wince But be brave and you’ll reap rich rewards – like the hot and spicy frogs’ legs, served in a ‘dry pot’ kept warm over a tealight. In the mix, you’ll find meaty morsels jumbled up with four different kinds of red and green chilli, plus scallions and fronds of green coriander tossed in for good measure. Like most of the dishes served here, it’s ginormous and ferociously fiery, but underpinned by hints of smoke and salt.
It’s from the team behind 10 Cases, so you can expect Parsons’ fantastically friendly staff to know their wines – although this cleverly designed restaurant is really about stunning seafood. If you don’t believe us, try their sea trout tartare: two oval mounds of thick-cut, tangerine-hued fish so fresh it’s almost sweet, layered with a tooth-suckingly tart bloody mary jelly and a few snip-snips of micro-herbs, all surrounded by randomly sized blobs of silky mayo. You see, it’s all about passion rather than pedantic precision here.
After just one bite of this delicious morsel you’ll be a convert to the tao of Bao. The milk bun is so soft and pillowy it’s like eating a cloud (we imagine), while inside there’s impossibly tender slow-cooked pork, plus a sweet, sticky sauce and crunchy deep-fried shallots. If your companion offers to share, just say no. After all, now that you’re here, the aim of the game is to fill up on as much of the menu as possible in order to avoid navigating that queue again any time soon.
A fiery, smoky twist on an old-fashioned Brit chophouse that swaps the grill for a tandoor and adds a surfeit of Indo-Punjabi spices, TCH brings turn-of-the-century Bombay to Covent Garden. The menu scores a lot of sizzling savoury hits, although it saves its best till last, with a glittering prize of a pud. Dense as a brick, yet silky and smooth, Tandoor’s malted kulfi has an intense flavour – like sucking the inside of a Malteser after you’ve nibbled off all the chocolate. It’s delicious on its own, but there’s more: chunks of caramelised banana and, finally, some fragments of salted peanuts for contrast and crunch. A sinful, indecent and swoonworthy delight.
Think of Brigadiers as Hoppers for people with money, because this Indian barbecue restaurant has all the calling cards of its high-stepping owners, the Sethi family. Food-wise, the fish paos are best in class (imagine fish-finger sliders), but even these crunchy stars are outshone by the dinky Indo-Chinese lettuce wraps – piled high with tender morsels of fragrant chicken, then smothered in a warm, tangy sauce, crispy onions, a dollop of yoghurt and a sprinkle of sesame seeds. Fusion perfection.
£12 (vegetarian) / £14 (beef)
The logo for this deliciously atmospheric Soho outpost of Istanbul’s celebrated Yeni Lokanta suggests a flower-shaped cluster of aubergines, and the purple-skinned delicacy appears in various guises on the menu, most notably in the signature manti, a parcel-like dumpling that comes sitting in a pool of goat’s yoghurt with porcini mushrooms. Veggie and beef versions are available on the menu and the restaurant has been known to serve a taster of this dish as a freebie amuse-bouche. We’re also fans of Yeni’s crunchy snow pea, green apple and mint salad with blobs of yoghurt and chilli jam.
Keep your coat on when visiting this laidback eatery in Tooting’s chilly Broadway Market, even though Sea Garden’s pimped-up seafood classics are guaranteed to warm your cockles. For real star quality, however, we defer to the palate-cooling, raw organic honey panna cotta – a wobbling bobby-dazzler complete with shards of honeycomb, the odd sliver of charred orange, beads of orange jelly and a shot of homemade yuzu orange liquor on the side. Note - Sea Garden is cash only, although they do take bookings.
Venue says Dedicated to sourcing the finest ingredients to create innovative, unique, contemporary and seasonal dishes.
It’s a long, long way from spaghetti and meatballs, but you can indulge your deepest ‘Lady and the Tramp’ fantasies by ordering this Asian ode to Italian trattoria richness at ritzy Park Chinois. Its ‘carbonara’ is a surprise package involving slippery Inaniwa udon noodles, a rich orange-yolked egg (cooked at 65 degrees), umami-packed sea urchin and pancetta, with adornments courtesy of pansies and nori dust. Perfect for the restaurant’s slinky, jazzy, Shanghai boudoir glitz.
Venue says Brunch Chinois, luxury brunch! Every Sat: cocktail, 3 course lunch, 1/2 bottle of Champagne, DJ & live music, £58. Book at parkchinois.com
So you think you know bone marrow. You’ve tried it under onions at Hawksmoor, in mash at Pitt Cue, on pizza at Homeslice (and don’t even get us started on St John). But until you’ve had it at this funky Sri Lankan street food specialist, you haven’t lived. Here, the calf bones (like tiny canoes, cut lengthways) come smothered in a terrific dry curry sauce, making every mouthful a heavenly mix of fat and spice. Make no bones about it: this upstart starter aims to upstage the main-event hoppers – try saying that after a couple of sherbets.
The signature dish at Dinner by Heston Blumenthal, and no doubt one that will join the likes of ‘snail porridge’ and ‘bacon and egg ice cream’ as shorthand for the zany chef’s legacy. Lord, is it good! A beautiful orb with a shiny ‘skin’ of thin, sharp mandarin jelly encasing some of the lightest, creamiest chicken liver parfait known to man – a triumph of flavour, texture and vision that fills us with childish glee.
The folks at this Thai barbecue dive on muso mecca Denmark Street play fast and loose with their menu, which is a fusion interpretation of northern Thai cuisine (and none the worse for it). Seeing its signature starter on the menu, you’d be forgiven for wanting to pass: pongy fish sauce with fried chicken? But trust in the Goat: the fish sauce is caramelised (which removes some of its in-your-face odour while retaining its pungent complexity) and amped up with garlic; the chicken wings are covered in a deliciously crisp rice-flour batter that refuses to turn to mush under its cloak of sauce. You’ll lick the plate clean.
‘The codfish fritter is so nice, it’s like a high-five from Jesus Christ,’ says the wacky slogan on Fish, Wings & Tings’ website – and we’re not about to argue with that. In fact, we reckon these little beauties are brilliant – doughy and golden with a creamy ginger and lime aïoli for dipping. Locally renowned as one of the dreamiest sites on Brixton’s rumbustious market, FW&T has a communal vibe with its battered, bright-orange tables, effervescent service and reggae tunes – so slam down a Trinidadian beer, a fruity rum punch or a can of Ting (the Caribbean’s favourite fizzy grapefruit drink).
Uber-chef Alain Ducasse’s pristine industrial-chic Café in King’s Cross’s Coal Drops Yard may be renowned for its exclusive single-origin coffees, but we also adore its intense hot chocolate, served in beautiful bespoke glassware. Made with a selection of dark varieties and milk from Normandy, it will give you a taste for the overall standard of chocolate on offer here. If you’re craving an extended cocoa fix, you can head next door to Le Chocolat Alain Ducasse, a boutique selling a range of desirable confections, all crafted at his workshop in a cobbled Parisian courtyard.
An achingly stylish, handsomely garbed Burmese star now holed up in an airy site on the eastern fringes of Shoreditch, Lahpet touts a highly distinctive cross-breed of Thai and Indian cuisine that’s very much its own. Various crunchy, zingy and fiery salads are among the pack-leaders, but they’re just edged out by the parathas: buttery, charred round the edges and fat with a filling of spiced yellow peas, these classics have all the carb-on-carb comfort of a south Indian masala dosa – and then some.
Low-lit, inviting and simply brilliant, Santo Remedio’s new pitch on Borough’s Tooley Street finds its Mexican kitchen on sparkling form – just take a gooey bite of the classic quesadilla and you’ll be in heaven. The foundation for this beauty, a blue corn tortilla, is filled with chihuahua cheese, folded and fried – health freaks look away now – and each mouthful yields a blob of chewy, salty queso that creates pale, stringy strips when you pull it apart. All that’s needed is a dollop of salsa verde for added sharpness and vibrancy – plus a house margarita on the rocks and some Latin grooves in the air.
Venue says A vibrant Mexican restaurant with an upstairs tequila and mezcal bar, serving authentic regional Mexican cuisine and cocktails.