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London is for food lovers

Jan. 14 2026

Routing through London is the best decision a food lover can make.

Wherever my wife and I are headed in Europe, we customarily fly British Airways—and then, try as we might to get to our intended destination with a quick transfer at Heathrow, London beckons. Goya to Impressionism at the Courtauld, Marina Abramović at the Royal Academy of Arts, Jeff Wall at White Cube, Marie Antoinette and David Bowie at the Victoria and Albert Museum—who can resist? Not me, not once I start thinking about where I might eat.

As I see it, every jaunt to London, no matter how brief, should include one swanky lunch—for which I generally hold up The Ledbury in Notting Hill as an ideal as I selflessly search for something new.

You will not find that at Hélène Darroze at The Connaught, where at a recent lunch, our waiter boasted that one dish has remained unchanged in 18 years. Such is the routine at most Michelin three-stars, where the innovation that helped spur them to where they are is then overtaken by fear of a misstep, and stasis sets in. But the meal did include such expressions of culinary perfection as tandoori-spiced lobster with carrot mousseline and beurre noisette, and Landes guinea hen with sunchoke, coffee and sansho pepper. It was a shame about the barely tepid squash risotto with its miserly (£75 extra) application of truffle. But then, where else can you get a good Échezeaux by the glass at £1,250 per?

The food packed just as much finesse and a whole lot more flair and inventiveness at Claude Bosi at Bibendum, at Michelin House on the Fulham Road. But sadly, a disagreement with the landlord closed that institution in August. Next time, we’ll check in on the newer Brooklands by Claude Bosi at The Peninsula.

For more casual posh, visit Mayfair’s Mount Street, a beautiful second-floor room adorned with a mesmerizing fine art collection, from Matisse to Man Ray (the restaurant belongs to an arm of the Swiss-based super gallery Hauser & Wirth). The food is haute British—as in roast venison, lobster pie, omelette Arnold Bennett, and so on. Its quality has declined some since opening—in direct proportion, I think, to the numbers of photos one sees in the papers of octogenarian rock stars like Rod Stewart or Ronnie Wood slipping out of birthday parties there—but it is still enjoyable.

Mount Street Interior | Photo: Helen Cathcart

If you’re in the mood for great fish, stop in instead next door at the stylish and venerable Scott’s. And speaking of celebrity-frequented institutions, Le Caprice—which expired during Covid after a 73-year run—has been reborn as Arlington, by Jeremy King (formerly The Ivy, The Wolseley, etc.). The room is sharp—black, white and chrome, decorated with a slew of David Bailey photographs (as at Le Caprice). Sophisticated comfort food reigns here. Expect scallops on the half-shell with garlic butter, grilled calf’s liver and a resuscitated ’90s classic from The Ivy—salmon fishcake with sorrel sauce.

For great British food in a casual setting, head to Notting Hill, where Jackson Boxer has recast his wild-fish restaurant Orasay as Dove, where in winter you can now enjoy the IG-viral deep-fried lasagna with taleggio and truffle. Or, head for The Devonshire, a sprawling pub in Soho with its own basement butchery and bakery. You want to be upstairs, in the white-tablecloth grill room. The cooking is simple and the products top-notch. Start with plump grilled scallops with bacon and malt vinegar or share the “pile of langoustines.” Next, one of the myriad cuts of house-aged beef, lamb cutlets or an Ibérico pork chop. Yes, they have sticky toffee pudding.

London’s chefs are adept at adapting foreign cuisines to their own excellent products. Mayfair’s BiBi, the inventive Indian restaurant from (ex-Ledbury) chef Chet Sharma, is the best South Asian restaurant we’ve recently visited there in a string of many; if you go, do not forgo the Cornish lobster tikka. AngloThai, in Marylebone, has earned many plaudits for its singular, local interpretation of Thai cooking, evidenced in a tiny starter of coconut crackers with Brixham crab and caviar, and maintained with a procession of unusually pretty and vibrantly spiced dishes starring English products from Cornish oysters to venison.

Then there’s Mountain, in Soho, the latest from chef Tomos Parry, of Brat (in Shoreditch and Hackney). The cooking here is once again Basque-inspired open-fire, but bolder, with more elevated ingredients. Do not miss the latest iteration of Parry’s walnut bread (with nectarines and lardo, peach and roe, and so on), the beef sweetbreads (like veal, but beyond), dairy cow (cured or cooked). And even if you opt for a simple Dover sole for your main, be sure to add a side of creamy, crispy smoked potatoes.

Nothing is having a bigger moment these last couple of years than the bistro. Josephine, in Chelsea, owned by Claude Bosi and his wife, Lucy, is an ode to the chef’s Lyonnais roots. The handsome room features a menu of smartly updated bistro and bouchon classics. From the gougères to the frogs’ legs, ris deveau and rum baba—all was à point on the Fulham Road. At Henri, in Covent Garden, we found Jackson Boxer’s British spin on the bistro to be inventive and delicious: a skewer of grilled snails, savoury seaweed-infused canelés, turbot for two, a perfect saucisse de Toulouse with pommes purée. We had more gougères and frogs’ legs and buttery grilled fish at Café François in Borough Market.

But no place on the list above pleased us so emphatically as did Camille, at the entrance to the market. Both the atmosphere and the cooking (from Elliot Hashtroudi, ex-St. John) were a delight. As the playlist veered from Steely Dan to Faces, my wife (sensibly) enjoyed a pretty salad of burrata with young beets, favas and pea shoots, while I tucked into a plate of calf’s brain, luscious, creamy, thickly sliced and doused in beurre noisette. There were stout spears of white asparagus dressed with black butter. A sublime chop of heritage pork came with frisée, and young radishes showered with shaved Comté. And the John Dory was sauced with an exquisite emulsified chorizo butter. To finish, choux pastry filled with kumquat cream. When we return, Camille will be our first meal stop.