Tania Ballantine

On ne compte plus les expositions que tout Paris a vues, que tout le monde a vues, qu'il faut avoir vues. Au risque, parfois, d'occulter les autres trésors que renferment les musées parisiens, notamment au sein de leurs collections permanentes. Time Out Paris a voulu se pencher sur ces œuvres, toujours fidèles au poste, qui s'exposent du matin au soir au Louvre, à Orsay, au Centre Pompidou ou au Quai Branly, mais aussi dans des lieux moins connus. En choisissant 50 pièces (avec parfois l'aide précieuse de conservateurs), le but n'était pas d'être exhaustif, ni de cataloguer les chefs-d'œuvre les plus célèbres de la capitale. D'ailleurs, au fil de cette expédition artistique, nous n'avons croisé ni La Joconde, ni La Victoire de Samothrace, ni La Dame à la Licorne, dont il nous paraissait presque superflu de souligner l'écrasante célébrité. Et puis l'exercice l'ordonnait : il a fallu faire des choix, guidés par la curiosité qui nous a parfois poussés à aller chercher l'inattendu, l'improbable, l'oublié.Si nous avons essayé de nous limiter à des œuvres qui restent constamment présentes dans les collections parisiennes, difficile de le garantir : l'une aura pu être prêtée à un musée à l'autre bout du monde, tandis qu'une autre sera peut-être partie se refaire une beauté dans le labo d'un restaurateur.Bref, tout cela est parti d'une envie très simple : faire découvrir ou redécouvrir des œuvres qui se distinguent par leur composition, leur beauté, leur étrangeté ou le contexte dans

Definir los criterios para confeccionar esta lista con los mejores restaurantes de Londres fue relativamente sencillo. La idea era seleccionar cualquier lugar que fuera imposible no visitarlo una y otra vez. Resumiendo, son todos esos restaurantes que simplemente no podemos sacarnos de la cabeza. Sin embargo, no fue tan fácil ir reduciendo el número de restaurantes hasta tener, finalmente, el listado definitivo con los 10 mejores restaurantes de Londres. Tampoco fue fácil, aunque sí muy divertido, elegir los mejores bares de la ciudad así como –pongámonos más serios– los mejores museos para visitar y las mejores cosas que hacer. En todos los los casos, el objetivo era el mismo: seleccionar lo imprescindible de nuestra ciudad para que la disfrutéis plenamente.

Restaurants: you wait ages for one, then loads come along at once. In fact, there are so many interesting-sounding new joints due to open next year, it’s been a tough old job whittling down the list to the most exciting ten. But at last, here it is: a hand-picked lists of the hottest food halls, street-food collectives and restaurants due to launch in 2017. If your new year’s resolution was going to be ‘eat less’, you might want to have a little rethink.

We've sampled dishes across the capital to make dining out in London a piece of cake for you. From show-stopping plates at London's best restaurants to street food eats and simple, comforting menu mainstays, these are the top ten dishes in London that are well worth seeking out. RECOMMENDED: Read our full list of the 100 best dishes in London

By now you'll have read our tantalising top 100 countdown on London's very best plates of food. But we wanted to hear from you. Which dishes from our list had your pulses racing this year? You voted in your thousands and below you'll find the results for the people's favourite London dishes. RECOMMENDED: Read the full countdown to the 100 best dishes in London

There’s no denying it: 2015 was a good year for restaurants. There were several hundred newbies that were pretty decent, and around 60 that we all really liked. So whittling those down to a final ‘must-try’ list of 15 was tough – but hey, it’s a nice problem to have. At last, here it is – our pick of the most memorable new openings in the capital of the last 12 months. And a smug little ‘go us’ reminder that London remains the best place in the world for going out to eat. Suck on that, New York. 

You've seen our top 100 dishes in London and we've delivered our own top ten countdown. Now it's your turn to have a say. Which of these 100 dishes served in the best London restaurants and beyond has your tastebuds doing backflips? Which of our picks keep you coming back for seconds and thirds? Vote the dishes up and down in the table below and we'll reveal your champion plate very soon... RECOMMENDED: Read our full countdown to the 100 best dishes in London Cheap Summer Travel Vacations

From stodgy, cheesy plates of goodness to steaming hot curries; from bowls of hot noodle broth to classic British pies, the capital has options to satisfy any comfort food craving. Cosy up with the most warming dishes that London has to offer.

Old man winter really is a bastard. Not content with robbing you of daylight and rendering useless your fine collection of designer shorts, the months that bookend each year bring with them frosty chills and massive amounts of misery. But the fightback starts here. Not with scarves and mittens and thermal underpants (ergh – itchy!), but with desserts. Think pastry, pancakes, cream and caramel. These are London’s most comforting puds – tuck in and tell winter to do one.

Remember when ‘being given the counter’ was akin to being given the finger? Well, those days are over. In fact, they’ve been over for ages now, because there are now so many London restaurants where the seat at the counter is in fact the best seat in the house that it’s time for a shout out to the very best. Here’s our countdown of the top ten counters in town. You’re welcome.

Are you tired of eating the same old ice-cream, with only the ‘how long to brain-freeze’ game to keep things interesting? What you need is a hand-picked list of the best signature flavours, from the capital’s finest ice-cream makers, so you can spend all summer sampling and judging them for yourself. Now then.... which is your flavourite? (Flavour favourite. Yes, it’s a thing).

Please note: This is a January 2020 review of Arcade Food Theatre. The venue has since reopened as Arcade Food Hall under new management and with a different roster of vendors.  At this ‘food theatre’ (read: fancy food court), there are a total of seven mini-kitchens plying their wares. Most are at street level (currently: tacos, posh kebabs, steak, fusion sushi, piri piri chicken, and pasta), but if you head up to the small but swish mezzanine lounge, you’ll also find katsu sando sarnies for sale. Don’t go expecting a cheap lunch though: most of the signature dishes hover around the £12 mark, and that’s before drinks. And while this might be what you’d expect to pay in a restaurant, the truth is, eating here isn’t like eating in a restaurant. With its double-height ceilings, glass sides and various hard surfaces, the space feels a little like an airport departure lounge. Albeit one with slick mid-century furnishings and funky tunes (though these are somewhat drowned out by the general clatter). The food itself is mixed. Of the current vendors, our favourite was Casita do Frango (go with a pal and order the £10 piri piri chicken and a bowl of the African rice: it’s only £6 but a meal in itself, not to mention utterly delicious). Least impressive? Chotto, where everything we ate was clumsily made. Final tip? Take your own tupperware: at the time of reviewing, we were told that we couldn’t get any of the food – except for pastries from the coffee stand – ‘to go’. But who’s to s

We don’t normally comment on current affairs in our restaurant reviews, as it quickly dates them. But today, I make an exception. The state of the restaurant industry is best summed up for me by a picture shared on Instagram, of a blackboard outside a restaurant (not this one) that read: ‘Remember when the Titanic was sinking and the band continued to play? Well, we’re the band.’ So, for as long as London’s restaurants are open, Time Out will continue to review them. And if they temporarily have to close, we will celebrate and support them in other ways.As it happens, Trivet is precisely the sort of place you’ll want to plan ahead for, so you have something swish in the diary to look forward to. On a site once home to the excellent but ill-fated Londrino, it is a restaurant that has smart, special-occasion vibes, but with bags of warmth and staff so sweet, so charming, you’ll want to put them in your pocket and take them home.But this, really, is a place for people who are serious about food. It comes to us from a pair with pedigree: Jonny Lake and Isa Bal. For more than a decade, they served as The Fat’s Duck head chef and head sommelier, respectively. Not that this is the kind of place where you’ll be handed an iPod to accompany your meal. The style of the food is quietly meticulous: there’s flair, but also restraint. We swooned over a plate of pici (that worm-like pasta we all can’t get enough of), rich and creamy with the satisfying bite of artichoke as well as the subtle

Never mind if you’re into food: the Duke of York Building is very cool. It’s a contemporary beauty, plonked, seemingly randomly on the footprint of an old café, in the middle of Chelsea’s historic Duke of York Square, where most of the buildings are Georgian and listed. Its circular space is all clear curves and sweeping pale concrete on the outside (fun fact: the glass walls can retract downwards in sunny weather, providing an ‘instant alfresco’ vibe). Up top is a narrow perimeter roof terrace. Inside, it’s equally swish – minimalist woods, stone, more curves – and a fitting setting for a menu that I’m going to call ‘Caravan 2.0’. That is, eclectic, fusion-y small plates from the same team as first brought us killer coffees and coconut bread, but sharper and more stylish. The menu is large – almost too large – and includes an impressive number of plant-based options. Nearly everything we ate was terrific: bright, thrilling plates, their bold ingredients plucked from every shelf of the world’s larder. Some were simple: an ’nduja pizza, papyrus-thin, the heat of the spiced sausage paste casually accessorised with curls of dark, gleaming cavolo nero and mellow little hellos of confit garlic. We sampled several dishes that were completely vegan, but so substantial that even the hungriest of card-carrying carnivores would find them satisfying. Like a bowl of joyfully calorific jerusalem artichokes, served piping hot, their centres waxy and smooth, their outsides adorned with gree

By anyone’s standards, it’s pretty punchy for a South Asian restaurant to open next door to a Dishoom. ‘But Kolamba is Sri Lankan!’ I hear you all cry, which is totally different! Well yes, but not everyone is as enlightened as you: many will see both as fashionable spice houses, one and the same. Truthfully though, Kolamba is a very different beast. Smaller and more sophisticated, this is not somewhere to come with a riotous gang of pals, but one carefully curated friend. Or a hot date. From the kitchen, there were flashes of brilliance. Sri Lankan signatures were the strongest, like fish cutlets – aka spiced mini fishcakes with deep-fried coats – that were good enough to rival my dad’s (which are legendary). Also: the patties, aka fiery mini pasties, and the monkfish curry, its thin coconut sauce laced with tamarind, cloves and cinnamon (though take note: the fish was on the firm side, the way a home cook would make it, rather than a chef). Best of all: the creamy and comforting cucumber curry. You Must Get This. (At £5.90, it’s also a steal.) Hoppers were decent, string hoppers – that rarest of steamed delights – even better. But there were slip-ups too, like over-salting the tomato sambol, or heavy-handedness with the jaggery (a dark, molasses-like concentrated sugar) in a beef curry (a pity, as the meat was beautifully tender). But Kolamba is so atmospheric, so stylish – all concrete floors, stone tables and a mashup of oversized designer lampshades and sweet tea ligh

Make do and mend. Waste not, want not. The post-war generation were raised on these commandments. Then, somewhere down the line (I blame the ’80s), we all lost our way. Food and fashion became fast, everything became disposable. But not at Silo. Relocated from Brighton, this stylish Hackney restaurant from chef Doug McMaster wears its eco credentials on its sleeve: everything is sustainable, with many of the dishes made from ingredients otherwise destined for the bin. First up: no preachyness here. The warm, welcoming staff gave us just the right amount of background. If you sit up at the counter, as we did, you can even chat to the friendly, unflappable kitchen team. It’s fun. Otherwise, there are well-spaced tables, in a modish dining room. The ceilings are enormously high (put it this way: there’s a full-sized palm tree in one corner, but it looks like a pot plant). The floor is made from natural cork, the elegant seats from biodegradable wool, the lights from crushed wine bottles. That may sound shabby chic. It’s not. It’s chic chic. With a touch of industrial edge (the building was once a sweet factory), the exposed girders and warehouse windows offset by ebony-stained tables made from sustainable English ash. Oh, and did I mention that the menu is projected on to a massive whitewashed wall? A no-choice number, it’s officially six courses, but dessert is two dishes and there’s bread (‘Siloaf’) too. This overture of dark, dense sourdough perfectly sums up Silo’s ethos an

Ah, Lyle’s. Best known for being founded by one of the so-called Young Turks, a trio of rising stars with day jobs in swish kitchens and a sideline in pop-ups and supper clubs. Having picked up a stack of awards, one YT left for Australia, the other opened the Clove Club and the third – James Lowe – set up this stylish Shoreditch spot. With its no-choice, modern Brit menu, stunning setting, affable service and affordable prices, it was an overnight hit. Since its launch, back in 2014, little has changed, except for the prices, which are notably steeper (it picked up a Michelin star in 2015, let’s blame that). The service, happily, is at laidback as it ever was. And the room is still simple, handsome Shoreditch at its best. Inside the iconic Tea Building – first built as a factory for Lipton – it offsets the lofty ceilings and gorgeous warehouse windows with Nordic-vibe farmhouse furniture, concrete floors and a long open kitchen. As for the food, it remains superb. Think slick modern British plates with flair, not frivolity. Highlights from a recent visit: a plate of soft, smoky mussels with a lick of cider butter; impossibly tender slices of pheasant thigh teamed with roast calcots (mild green onions) and a pile of chewy, nutty spelt; and a flawless treacle tart with a crumbly dark pastry case, syrupy (but mellow) middle and a scoop of raw-milk ice cream to the side. Save up and go hungry.

If you’ve been following the life and times of the Gladwin brothers, you’ll know that the food-focused trio (one farmer, one chef, one restaurateur) first won our hearts – and bellies – with Notting Hill’s The Shed, a pitched-roof, shiplap-clad building with staff so enthusiastic and rosy-cheeked it was as if they too had been reared at the family farm. More modern Brit locals followed: Rabbit (Chelsea), then Nutbourne (Battersea). And now, in what feels like a finale: a central London restaurant, named for the county they call home. As with its siblings, it’s a handsome joint, which is all the more impressive given the potential awkwardness of the U-shaped site. One side is a bar, the other a dining room proper. (Just avoid the table opposite the top of the staircase: I sat here a decade ago, when this address belonged to Arbutus, and the feeling of vertigo is unchanged.) The look is less twee: farmhouse furniture and oak floors, sure, but ebony walls and antique-style metals too. It’s all very Soho. The cooking has its moments. A couple of dishes – moreish hare ragù over perfect pappardelle, say, or a plate of giant, puffy tempura herbs with chive yoghurt – showed the kitchen at the top of its game. But other plates fell into the ‘great, but’ category: some slip-up or other holding them in the silver medal spot. A tartare of otherwise beautiful Sussex beef was marred by too-strong raw onion; a cured monkfish starter unpleasantly salty. Needle-like ‘salt and vinegar’ potat

A veggie rather than vegan restaurant? Bit outdated, no? But wait, Bubala is more than just vegetarian. It does small plates. Middle Eastern small plates. Now you’re talking. And if that wasn’t BOT (bang on trend) enough, it’s also a bijou but buzzy Spitalfields spot with only 30 seats: a handful of designer-ish tables and a counter you can perch up at. It’s the kind of place where complete strangers (not the staff )will turn to you to tell you what’s good. ‘You have to try the halloumi,’ said the chap to my left, leaning in with a slightly frightening fervour. ‘It’s amazing.’ He was right. It was. Two huge honey-drenched half moons arrived on a little white plate, their sides crusted with a deep, dark, golden brown with just a little of their original paleness peeking through, like they’d spent a scantily clad week aggressively sunbathing. Better yet was how they tasted, the intense saltiness mirrored by a mellow nectar syrupyness. The mouthfeel of the chew and the crunch, that moment when you lick your lips to sweep up the last of the honey. There were three other dishes you’d wait outside the stage door for. First, the brutally, beautifully charred laffa flatbread, which you should order at the start, so you can eat it with everything. Or the thick, lavish slices of fried aubergine, heaped with zhoug (z-hoog), a fragrant paste of coriander-spiked chilli which, made well – as it was here – can turn a Middle Eastern dish from good to head-turningly gorgeous. Third, that vega

When you first hear the words ‘canalboat seafood restaurant’ you may make a few assumptions: the boat will be heading somewhere, it’ll be a bit wobbly, and you will see a lot of ducks. In the case of The Grand Duchess, you’d be right on the last one: there are a lot of ducks. The Grand D, while technically afloat, is so firmly moored to the canal path that there’s not a trace of an underfoot tremor (and it’s not going anywhere). Once inside, though, there’s a boatload of not-too-twee nautical charm, plus long horizontal glass windows running down both sides. On the starboard/canal path side, you can sit at proper tables, but the people-watching is nothing special. Instead, ask to sit at the counter, on the port (ie canal) side. Duck-watching (and geese and moorhens and the odd swan) is so much more rewarding. The food is good, though no better than you’d get at a half-decent dinner party. We swooned at the decadent chocolate and pistachio tart, with its scoop of ‘pearl of the south’ (a pistachio and almond ice cream from Hackney Gelato). Also excellent: a beautifully balanced starter of tender cuttlefish, tumbled together with fennel, fresh parsley and the heat of red chilli. And crisp-skinned sea bass over a heap of warm and tangy puy lentils, strung through with ’nduja and chard. But while a beetroot, taleggio and walnut salad was perfectly pleasant, our £29 turbot arrived with an unwelcome layer of tasteless fat. Still, the young staff are sweet and friendly, the music st

It’s an interesting quirk of restaurant reviewing that when describing Iranian food, you’re taught to call it ‘Persian’. Persia is for culture, Iran is for politics. And no one wants to eat their politics. But somehow it feels more appropriate to call the food of this new Covent Garden spot modern Iranian, because this is not your classic kneading-bread-in-the-window kind of a place, but a stylish space serving the metropolitan cooking of Tehran. Walking in, there was vibey hip hop playing in an industrial-chic setting: exposed pipework overhead, darkly gorgeous patterned tiles underfoot, and rose-hued seats for your bottom. It’s all super-sceney. As for the food, there’s plenty you’ll recognise from the rise-and-rise of modern Middle Eastern dining in the capital: pistachio, pomegranate, aubergine, yoghurt. But there are more overtly Persian leanings too: an enthusiasm for saffron and rose water, or that most beloved of Iranian fruits, quince. Also modern: the downsizing of stews and grills, so that every item was essentially a small plate. Yup, we’re in London. And mostly, these were terrific. Two star turns bookended the meal. First, a staggeringly good ‘bazaar’ bread the shape of a flattened baguette: oily, golden, and doused in salt and sesame. And later, an equally sensational twist on a tarte tatin, the pastry filled not with apple, but with meaty chunks of spiced quince, then teamed with fragrant Persian tea ice cream. In between, there were other must-haves, like

What makes you stop and gawp outside a shop window? Designer trainers? Slick shades? For me, it’s salads. Not just any old jumble of leaves, but the kind that make you reconsider how you feel about salads altogether. You know: sexy, ‘eat me’ salads. Lifestyle salads. This is what lunch at Haya is like: little plates of Israeli-inspired sunshine. They sit there, shimmering on the long window counter, quietly calling to you: ‘Come inside, choose us, we’re so pretty.’ So, you do. And you quickly realise that Haya is no casual caff. It’s not even a mid-level Ottolenghi. Instead, it’s a swish, uber-stylish spot, a place for lunch after a very expensive haircut (I imagine). There’s flattering lighting. Ella Fitzgerald crooning through the speakers. Plus marble tables, modern art and a substantial amount of unironic air kissing. And the food? Mostly very good. The small-plates menu is two thirds cold (only a few dishes are on the counter, the rest are made to order) plus a handful of ‘hot’. Highlights include a thick, creamy tzatziki under a small bonfire of deep-fried courgette sticks. Later, a trio of terrifyingly moreish crab cakes with an excellent chraime (a gutsy spiced tomato sauce). Or roasted halves of aubergine from the display, showered with almond flakes, minced garlic, morsels of feta, a sticky balsamic glaze and the jewel of all jewels, pomegranate seeds. There was the odd niggle: a too-dense knot of challah bread; an oversweet dressing on the greens. But it was the

The Goring is a funny old place. Historically, it was the go-to for a more, ahem, mature crowd, who were especially fond of its Sunday roast trolley. Then, in April 2011, it shot to fame when K-Middy chose to stay the night ahead of the royal wedding. Now the hype has died away, it’s back to doing what it does best: being classy without being old fashioned, and small enough to feel intimate. Siren – named after the mythical creature-turned-overused-metaphor – is its seafood spot. The menu is from Cornwall’s Nathan Outlaw, a chef famed for his flair with coastal cooking. And yes, there are flashes of brilliance. Like a trio of lobster fritters (think seafoody croquetas) which sat in what was essentially a breathtakingly good bisque, only thicker. Or a crab tart with a perfect golden filo case and layers of mildly curried kohlrabi (like coronation chicken, only with veg), and delicate white pieces of the crustacean. It’s just a pity the advertised brown meat mayo was missing. There were bigger niggles. Curls of cured monkfish with slivers of fennel were clobbered by an unwelcome interloper: raw spring onion, its flavour smothering everything in its wake. While an extravagant clotted cream rice pud with gingerbread ice cream and roast pineapple was unpleasantly cloying. Given the steep, special-occasion price tags, the kitchen needs to tighten up its act. Still, staff are lovely, and the room – a rear conservatory with garden views, regal carpets and lush foliage – remains one

Chopsticks ahoy! The food hall of the new flagship Japan Centre has opened on Piccadilly’s Panton Street, and there is a lot to eat. To get the best of the cheap eats, stick to noodles, sushi and salads (in short: avoid the rice!) Here are my top picks, ranked: 1.Tuna tataki noodle salad with wasabi soy dressing, £7.60 Move over, fish on rice. Fish on noodles is here and it’s going to steal your boyfriend. A jumble of wheat noodles, rocket, baby spinach and daikon, it’s topped with slices of good quality tuna tataki (its edges lightly seared, with a sesame crust); and a sesame-scented, soy-laced dressing. It’s a light lunch option that’s sexy and knows it. 2. Kotteri tonkotsu, £8 Tonkotsu broth. It’s one of those things that ramen fans get really nerdy about. This one ain’t half bad: it’s nicely creamy, with decent flavour and depth. The ramen come medium soft, plus you get half an ajitsuke tamago (marinated soft egg), tender slices of pork, pickled ginger and nori. But the best bit is the price: you’ll be hard-pressed to find a better bowl of tonkotsu in town for just £8. 3. Char siu barbecue pork hirata bun, £4.50 If you’re tired of buns, you’re tired of life. Or something like that. This hirata bun (basically Japanese bao) is so deliciously pillowy and spongy, you could eat it on its own. But woop woop, there’s filling too. Inside, you’ll find slices of barbecue pork (not loads, but enough) plus salad, mayo and spicy sauce: a tip-top combo of salt, sweet and heat. 4. Prawn

Michelin has just given out a fresh batch of shiny new stars and Bib Gourmands. Here’s my take on 2018’s crop. Tania Ballantine, Food Editor, Time Out London The places that rock, aka ‘big up the Bib Gourmands’. It might seem odd to start with the Bib Gourmands, given that it’s Michelin’s ‘lesser’ category (think of it as more of a ‘highly commended’). But, paradoxically, this is where the Michelin crew – mostly – nails it. The best of these, all of which have already bagged a spot on our brand-new Top 100 Restaurants list, are: ClipstoneOne of the nicest little spots in Fitzrovia, head to this chic, relaxed spot for small plates, flatbreads and sweet, welcoming service.  KilnThai barbecue. Great tunes. A slick counter upstairs and a dark, party party basement. Also, cooking over coals that they’ve pulled out of an actual kiln. KricketIt started life in a converted shipping container in Brixton and is now a fully bricks ‘n’ mortar counter restaurant in Soho. The Indian-with-a-Brit-twist food is ace (and so are the staff).  PopoloThis was 2016’s Bocca di Lupo: terrific Italian small plates that will rock your world. Sit at the narrow counter or in the first-floor dining room. SmokestakKind of like a medieval nightclub, this might just be the perfect spot for a budding bromance. It’s also home of that beef brisket bun.  Westerns LaundryA Highbury hit from the people behind Primeur, this time with a little more seafood and veg on the menu. Though the meat is ace, too: get the g

Team Street Feast has launched Giant Robot, a Canary Wharf rooftop dedicated to grub on the go. Here's exactly what you should be eating up in the clouds. Croquetas at Little José, £6.50 for five Andy Parsons   The sensible choice is to grab a bocadillo (Spanish baguette). But who wants to be sensible? Go for the ever-changing but always-brilliant croquetas. Creamy on the inside, crunchy on the outside. Oh, and a portion of the spicy prawn fritters while you’re at it. Double thumbs up.   Clam chowder fries at Bob’s Lobster, £5 Andy Parsons   The thing to get at Bob’s is the lobster roll, right? Wrong. It’s £17 (sheesh! You can almost go to Burger & Lobster for that) and the brioche is a bit greasy. But oh, the clam chowder fries! They’re things of beauty: a poutine-esque pot of skinny chips buried under a herb-flecked, bacon-specked chowder, with teeny, juicy clams too. Soooo good.   Chipuffalo wings at Thunderbird, £5 for five Andy Parsons   Who doesn’t love a wing? In high-end chipotle hot sauce. Better yet, these guys get a twist on the standard style by being breaded first – that sauce plus crunch plus chicken combo really works.   Toffee apple ice cream bun at Yum Bun, £4   Andy Parsons   You can only get it after 3pm (get the pork with hoi sin while you wait), but it’s worth sticking around for. Trust me. It’s a deep-fried bun smeared with homemade apple sauce, plus a perfect sphere of good-quality vanilla ice cream. On top? Miso caramel and shards of candied wa

Okay, so you’ve probably heard aaaaaall about The Ned (and seen perfectly filtered snaps of it plastered all over your Instagram feed). I'm sure you already know it's a humongous new hotel and members’ club from the people behind Soho House. It's in an old bank and has 11 floors, with 252 bedrooms and several pools. Including one on the roof (obvs). But what about those ‘nine restaurants and bars’, some of which are even open to us plebs? Here’s the deal.  1. It’s kind of not nine restaurants and bars. Not really. It feels more like three. If you ignore the members’ restaurant (oak-panelled steakhouse Lutyens Grill) and the members’ bar (The Vault Room, in the old basement vaults), the rest is pretty much one mega-restaurant in what used to be the main banking hall. Imagine a giant food hall, but with different ‘restaurant’ zones under one ridiculously high roof, each serving a different menu. Sort of Harrods Food Hall meets The Wolseley. 2. The one public drinking place – The Nickel Bar – is a round cocktail bar in the corner, where you can perch. It has a few banquettes and those two-person micro-booths everyone’s so keen on right now.  A post shared by Rests For The Wicked (@restsforthewicked) on May 19, 2017 at 4:03am PDT 3. Each of the five ‘restaurant areas’ has a slightly different style (but it’s pretty subtle and there are no signs. People wandering around ‘looking a bit lost’ is a bit of a thing here. Luckily there are plenty of flunkies

Love a kimchi hotdog? Us too! So we've gone and nabbed the kimchi hotdog recipe from flash celeb hangout Le Caprice. Okay okay, they gave it to us. Because, you know, kimchi hotdog. And we asked nicely.  Beef hot dog with kimchi (from Le Caprice's brunch menu) Serves 2 Ingredients 2 hot dog rolls (if you can find brioche buns, these are the best) 2 Frankfurters (Le Caprice uses the award-winning Kentish sausage company Franconian [franconian.co.uk].) 1 baby gem lettuce 1 spring onion 2 tbsp kimchi (available online, in some supermarkets and in all Korean food stores) 1 tbsp sesame seeds Sunflower oil for cooking Maldon salt flakes & freshly ground black pepper   Method 1. Wash and spin the baby gem in a salad spinner and then cut it into strips. Trim and peel the spring onion and then cut into slices by chopping lengthways on the diagonal, starting at the bulb end. Keep them as fine as you can, but do be careful. They should be about 2.5cm long. 2. Pre-heat the oven to 180°C / gas mark 4.  3. Put a little oil into a frying pan and sear the Frankfurters on all sides. Then, pop them into an oven proof dish and cook for a further five minutes until they are hot in the middle. 4. Whilst doing this, dry fry the sesame seeds on a low heat for a couple of minutes. Be careful not to burn them and, once they’re golden brown, pop them into a bowl and keep them to one side until you’re ready to use them. 5. Make an incision into the brioche buns on the tops, lengthways, but don’t cut al

Drumroll, please! Here they are: the most exciting places to feed us since we made all those failed resolutions. The Barbary, Neal's Yard, Covent Garden   A photo posted by The Barbary (@barbarylondon) on Sep 5, 2016 at 4:04am PDT From the folks that gave us Israeli hotspot The Palomar comes its even sexier younger sister, with 24 stools set around the action. Top tip: Get there by 6.30pm on a weekday and you might get a seat. Bao, Fitzrovia   A photo posted by B A O 包 (@bao_london) on Nov 28, 2016 at 1:55am PST Just as great – and great value – as the filled steamed Taiwanese buns original, but in a smarter setting (plus cosy seats downstairs). Top tip: Go beyond bao and sample the rice bowls and brand new sides. Bombetta, Snaresbrook   A photo posted by BombettaLondon (@bombettalondon) on Dec 2, 2016 at 9:22am PST The regional Puglian speciality of cured meat and cheese parcels is making a splash in Snaresbrook. Top tip: Don’t just order the bombetta – the salads and sides are ace, too. Chick ’n’ Sours, Covent Garden   A photo posted by Chick N Sours (@chicknsours) on Dec 15, 2016 at 6:26am PST Not only the home of the most game-changing fried chook burger in town, it’s also a cool hangout and incredibly good value. Top tip: Order the green slaw and the sriracha mayo too. They rock. Counter Culture, Clapham   The small plates at this tiny, grungy little counter restaurant from The Dairy will blow you away. Top tip: Ask to sit at the ‘chef’s coun

At last, a reason to go to Leicester Square: LEGO. A whole building dedicated to it. It’s the biggest LEGO store in the world, but so much more than ‘just a shop’. Here are eight fun things to do when you're there: 1. Hold one of the big boxes (try a 'Star Wars' one) up to a digital display, then watch in awe as a 3D CGI of the model comes to life on screen, complete with mini-figures running amok. Kids, we hear, usually go ‘woaaah'.         2. Take your piccie in the 'Make a Mosaic' booth, then wait for it to spit out an oversized baseplate of your face, plus a box of all the bricks that go with it. The catch? It’s £99.99. But it’s LEGO. OF YOUR FACE.   3. Take a selfie in front of one of the London attractions (all made out of LEGO, obvs). I loved the skyline map, the Tube map (YES!), the Royal Mail postbox and life-sized red phone box (surely asking for a game of ‘how many people can you get in this LEGO phonebox').             4. Visit when there’s a masterclass with a 'Master Builder' on. The chap I met identified an old hand-me-down set I used to play with as one from 1978 and even described the outfits on the mini-figures. What a legend. 5. Head to the ‘Pick & Build’ wall (which they really should have called ‘Brick ‘n’ Mix’) and fill a pot with any combination of blocks you want – £6.99 for a small one, £11.99 for a large. Keep the pot and you’ll save some pennies next time.         6. Pick up a LEGO passport (it’s free AND comes with stickers). Then head to one

What is it A Nordic-themed ‘winter’ version of this deservedly popular rooftop restaurant, at the top of what was once the BBC staff car park. Tables may be communal but you can book (with a fifth held back for walk-ins). This is west London, remember, where things are civilised. What’s new Almost everything. Those pretty white stones have been swapped for bark; the whimsical Mediterranean flowers replaced by holly and ivy (no singing!); they’ve brought whole birch trees in. And, get this: they’ve covered the whole lot with some sort of (heated) giant dome. That’s the kind of space age thinking we need more of in this town. What to eat All the restaurant stalls (three of which are new to Pergola) are Time Out faves, so the line-up gets a big tick from us. There’s Snaps & Rye (a Danish café by day, supper-club by night, where the clean-flavoured dishes are always stunning); Gunpowder, one of London’s most exciting and innovative new Indian restaurants; and Le Bab, which serves gourmet ‘open’ kebabs (plus terrific little sides, which are my top tip). And not forgetting an encore for the Patty & Bun crew, who’ve grown and grown since we fell in love with their 2012 launch. With six branches across town, they’re now the ‘Goliath’ of the bunch, so it’s nice to see them coming back to their small-fries roots. Find more details on Pergola on the Roof. Or check out these eight lovely pop-ups you won't want to miss this November  

So 2017's Michelin Guide has just been unveiled, with some shiny new Michelin stars awarded to London restaurants. Should you go rushing to get a table at these newcomers? Probably not, says Time Out Food & Drink Editor Tania Ballantine.  Celeste at The Lanesborough I’ll be honest: I’ve not been since the 2015 refurb, but based on previous visits, it’ll be polished and hotelly. Tweet us your thoughts on this one please! The Five Fields The kind of place you take your mother-in-law (when she’s paying). Full of well-heeled Chelsea types of a certain age. Set menu now £60 for three courses.           Ellory The most interesting place on the list of newbies. I only gave it three stars but then heard they’d taken a lot of the criticism on board (good on them for that) – feedback since has been good. Locals, your thoughts? The Ritz If your granny is in town, don’t take her here for lunch or dinner, but for afternoon tea, which is undoubtedly one of the fanciest and finest in London. Trinity There’s no doubt that Adam Byatt can cook. But Bistro Union, his casual neighbourhood hangout, just down the road, is so much more relaxed – I’d rather spend my money there. As for ‘smart’ food in Clapham, the fact that Trinity gets a star but The Dairy does not is, to me, pretty damning evidence of how out of touch Michelin is.   The Veeraswamy The oldest Indian restaurant in London. So why give the star now, Michelin? Or were you after a token ‘exotic’ menu to show that you’re not just about

It’s back. And the food, says Tania Ballantine, is better than ever WHAT IS IT? A summer hangout that’s open on Fridays from 5pm and Saturdays from 2pm. WHERE SHOULD YOU SIT? Anyone loaded or skilled at organising group kitties (yeah, good luck with that) might want to pre-book a ten-person seating area for £200. The ones on the bijou fake-grass-carpeted rooftop are best because they come with a view and a wristband that lets you jump the one-in-one-out queue. There are hoi polloi seats (not many, mind) on the ground floor, in the main bar and in the dinky Ibiza-vibe rear section. BEST TIME TO GO If you’re all about the food, go on a Saturday at around 3pm. The stalls will have finished prepping, so they’ll have plenty of time to give you and your order all kinds of love. Arrive before 5.30pm, and you’re more likely to get a seat. Also, if the reservation-only booths haven’t been booked (it does happen), it’s first come, first served. Hate to wait? Buy an advance ticket. Yes, they cost £10, but you get a drink of your choice thrown in and you get to skip the queue. Who doesn’t love that? WHAT TO EAT AND DRINK Don’t expect masterful mixology or craft beers. This is drink-from-a-plastic-cup territory. Still, the frozen margaritas (£8) from The Lazy Flamingo Bar are fun, plus there’s Singha beer and saké. Not sure what to eat? Here are the signature dishes from every stall, ranked. 1. Slow-roast lamb shawarma pitta at The Good Egg, £8.50   A photo posted by Alexandra B (@alex

West Londoners – no longer are you left in the cold when it comes to the alfresco street-food scene. Pergola on the Roof, once the BBC Television Centre car park, now a 170-foot-high terrace, has just opened to the public, serving restaurant-worthy grub from the chefs at Salt Yard, LeCoq, Rabbit and Patty & Bun. Book ahead with a group of your most generous mates and negotiate a sharing policy – you will want to try everything (broad bean hummus from Rabbit and the dry aged beef bocadillo from Salt Yard were well worth their salt). While sun is no guarantee, eating, drinking and merrymaking are a given. And if it rains, there’s always the flowery retractable roof. See you all at the bar.   Tania Ballantine Tania Ballantine   Hungry? Check out the best street food in London.

  This is a middle-class joke, right? It’s really not. It’s totally legit. You can now buy vodka made from quinoa. But that's mental. It’s really not. If you can make vodka from potato, barley and wheat, then why not quinoa? Point taken. But I bet it tastes weird. Actually, it’s great. It doesn’t have any of the ‘harsh’ edge of supermarket vodka. In fact, it’s so smooth, you can drink it neat. And being made by Fair spirits, it’s even Fairtrade. Okay, I'm sold. Where can I buy some? Order a bottle from firebox.com for £39.99. Thirsty right now? Here's the 50 best cocktail bars in London