Britain’s best restaurants open on Monday
Published 14 November 2024

With ‘incredible’ panoramic views stretching over the city to the Pennines beyond, 20 Stories can be an eye-popping experience. Literally towering above its nearest rival when it comes to sheer glitz (ahoy down there, The Ivy Spinningfields!), it's got all the glamorous rooftop cocktails and golden light a socialite could wish for – with the bonus of bottomless brunches, afternoon teas and well-crafted ‘festive family roasts’ on Sundays.

The kitchen also has the chops when it comes to an à la carte menu loaded with good North Country produce and well-grounded technique – as in braised lamb shoulder with grilled heritage squash, BBQ sprouts and chestnuts or pan-roasted cod with cauliflower, fennel, orange and red wine sauce. You're paying for the food and the view, so competitively priced set lunches and pre-theatre deals are worth considering for 'well-made classics' such as seared salmon with courgettes, orzo and basil or a textbook flat iron steak with skinny fries.

Desserts are a highlight, from caramelised pear cheesecake or peach frangipane slice with apricot sorbet to the signature ‘20 Stories wonderland’.  Exhibitionists will love the wine list, drawn from a collection of 600 bins stored in five Eurocave fridges – although a ‘broader range at the lower end’ would be appreciated.

Just off the quayside in Dartmouth is Luca Berardino's welcoming neighbourhood restaurant, 'a little jewel' in the estimation of one confirmed regular. There is a chef's table, but nobody will be expected to genuflect to a presiding genius; instead, diners lap up the chance of getting a little closer to the engineering of hearty food, some of it prepared on a wood-fired barbecue. The orientation of the cooking is somewhere between Italy and France, with enterprising small plates the core of the operation. Expect anything from a high-powered assembly of beetroot, Saint Agur cheese and apple dressed in Gewürztraminer or Torbay scallops with lime and coconut to Jerusalem artichokes and goat's curd in truffled vinaigrette or slow-roasted cabbage and ajo blanco. When the plates get bigger, they come bearing the likes of Black Angus fillet with beef fat rösti, artichoke and spinach in classic red wine jus. At the close of business, consider sticky toffee pudding with Earl Grey sauce and ginger sorbet or an Italian mash-up of espresso-laced affogato, zabaglione and vanilla ice cream. Fully dressed Sunday roasts are an abidingly popular recourse for weekenders tired of loading the dishwasher. Everything on the rough-and-ready wine list is available by the glass (from £6), while bottles start at £24. 

Run by a group of artists, this idiosyncratic Welsh take on a Venetian bacaro is all about off-the-wall nibbles backed by a prodigious line-up of obscure wines, craft beers and limited-edition ciders. The repertoire is constantly changing, so be prepared for crostini topped with the likes of candied spicy jalapeño, whipped ricotta and bergamot or goat’s cheese, chocolate and almond (great with a Starlino rosé spritz). Their version of the classic ‘sardé in saor’ (sweet-and-sour sardines) is served cold on polenta – perfect with a glass of Sicilian Grillo. Also nab one of their porchetta rolls doused in fennel sausage gravy if they’re on. Staff are lovely, and the affordability is ‘next level’. 

*Matt and Will Devlin will be moving Birchwood to a new location after a final service at Flimwell Park on 23rd March 2025*

Standing on the fringes of more than 40 acres of coppiced birch and chestnut woods, Flimwell Park is a beacon of sustainability and environmental harmony. The simple Scandi-style decor of its restaurant is in keeping with an earth-nurturing ethos that takes localism to the next level. Mushrooms, elderberries, blackberries and on-trend ingredients such as wood sorrel and birch sap find their way into menus that come with views of the woodland – especially from the terrace. Early birds can feast on nutritious breakfasts from 8am, while lunch furnishes simple but effective dishes with big flavours. Smoked haddock dressed with curried mayo or pork belly with pickled turnips and hazelnuts might open the show. Asian seasonings add some zing to mains such as line-caught cod in miso marinade with kohlrabi slaw and soy dressing, while seasonal freshness is the watchword in a pearl barley risotto with asparagus, peas and goat's curd. Desserts tend to the more indulgent end of the spectrum, as in white chocolate cheesecake with strawberries and granola. Monthly supper club evenings (at 7 for 7.30pm) offer a three-course set menu topped and tailed with snacks and treats, taken at two long tables. Book early. 

Anna Tobias works to a formula of doing simple, straightforward dishes with appreciable panache. Menus at her crowd-pleasing Bloomsbury café change weekly, and the food retains the kind of deceptively domestic air that can all too easily fool punters into thinking that they could knock up something similar at home. Start with some nibbly fare, along the lines of charcuterie or mussels in escabeche. After that, salt cod fritters with aïoli bring on a great whack of punchy seasoning and resonating garlic, or you might consider bistro-style stalwarts such as artichoke vinaigrette or tuna, radish and winter tomato salad. Robustly proportioned main dishes aim for unabashed sustenance, ranging from a Spanish-style ranch stew of sausage, morcilla, bacon and beans to baked brill with potato and more aïoli. Come hungry, as they say. As this is nominally a café, there may well be cake to finish – chocolate and walnut, possibly – but also crema catalana or rhubarb ice cream for those who are watching their carbs. The largely European wine list features plenty of enterprising discernment, from a Tarragona Macabeu-Muscat blend to a cherry-ripe Sicilian Frappato.

Among the network of lanes in Edinburgh's New Town, north of Princes Street, this ‘wonderful oasis of calm’ looks like a piece of heritage Parisian ‘restauration’ airlifted from Montmartre. Bentwood chairs on the robust side of rickety, a black-and-white tiled floor, properly clothed tables, dark wood walls and mirrors all form the backdrop to the kind of classic French bistro cooking that visitors love to stumble upon.

Start the ball rolling with, say, ham 'hough' terrine or St Bride's smoked duck breast with a salad of orange, pickled fennel and raddichio. Main course veer towards the sturdy end of things: roast lamb rump is accompanied by ratatouille, buttery mash and tapenade, while a serving of East Coast cod comes with a rich shellfish bisque, heritage potatoes, samphire and aïoli. It's all gloriously satiating, right up to desserts such as raspberry frangipane tart with crème normande or Perthshire cherry clafoutis with woodruff ice cream.

The fixed-price 'café classics' menu is a bargain for lunch or dinner, with mains such as Borders venison cottage pie or smoked haddock fillet with wilted spinach and green sauce. Glasses in two sizes lead off a serviceable French-based wine list. ‘We arrive to smiles and leave with a warm glow,’ mused one regular.

Quite the ace to have up your sleeve when you’re looking for somewhere casual, this dramatic double-height space, a former banking hall, houses a true urban eatery, an all-day Italian caffè. While busy and buzzy, the room feels classy: soaring pillars, ornate ceiling, grey walls, striking bright-pink dangling lampshades, massive central chandelier, and a lively baroque fresco covering part of one wall.

It ‘feels special’ and feeds the mainly Edinburgh crowd from breakfast to dinner, whether snacking, just having a drink, enjoying one dish or more. Any time and any dish will do, whether it’s a plate of trofiette pasta with sausage, cremini mushrooms, dried porcini, fresh cream, rocket and Parmesan, or rump of Highland lamb with cannellini purée, pan-fried puntarella and salsa verde.

If you’re into the sweet side of things, Contini’s tiramisu is the ultimate soothing treat, although other equally indulgent temptations beckon – from panettone al forno to gelati and sorbetti. Liquid refreshment covers all bases too, with the good-value all-Italian wine list opening at £25.

Shake off the humdrum location (beside the busy Otley Road in north Leeds) and relax into the easy enjoyment of Dastaan. Sibling of the original restaurant in Epsom, with Nand Kishor Semwal (ex-Gymkhana) as executive chef, it bears many of the same hallmarks: faultlessly warm, attentive service and a fresh, snappy menu which skirts all the curry-house clichés. Start with spinach and kale bhajiya or generous, charred wedges of paneer tikka with bright mint chutney before delving into a pork cheek vindaloo or Malvani fish curry. The vast 130-cover dining room has its own bar serving up cocktails, mocktails, local Kirkstall Brewery beer on draught and a selection of mainstream wines.

Margate is inundated with blow-ins from the London restaurant scene and beyond at the moment, but it was local talent that established the town as a serious food destination. And there are few better examples than Dory’s, the small, simple seafood eatery-cum-wine bar overlooking the beach, where a local, seasonal and sustainable commitment filters down from famous older sibling Angela’s, just round the corner. Ethical credentials pour forth from chalkboard menus and the drinks list (aperitifs run to a take on the Bloody Mary earthed up with garlic) and, as a no-cook set-up, it’s a model of its kind. Dishes are pre-made: the likes of soused paprika mussels are served cold, but brown crab piled high on toast (creamy with just a hint of chilli warmth) or smoked haddock and dill pie (with a fabulous pastry crust) are finished or reheated behind the bar. We also tried a bass fillet with kale, lentils and green sauce (superb), reignited our love affair with smoked prawns (first sampled at Angela's in the summer), and enjoyed an apple cake with caramel and crème fraîche. From a trio of wines by the glass chalked up on a board, we chose a skin-contact Rennersistas-Intergalactic from Burgenland, Austria – a brilliant match for the food; by contrast, the wine list proper favours some superb, forward-thinking English vineyards. The fact that everything is as it should be is down to a cracking front-of-house team. And while Dory's now takes bookings, the good news is that some space is reserved each day for walk-ins – a godsend in a town where the best restaurants can be booked up weeks in advance.

A Scottish/Italian marriage made in Glasgow, Giovanna Eusebi’s jam-packed deli/café/restaurant hybrid cherishes the time-honoured traditions of her homeland and leavens them with ample supplies of seasonal Scottish produce. Occupying a colourful red-and-white corner site, the venue scores heavily with breakfast and brunch, served to a merry throng of workers and shoppers in the ground-floor space. Come for squash crostini, eggs ‘energia’ (with avocado, chiili and lime purée) or one of their Roman sourdough pizzas; alternatively breeze in for coffee and a sweet treat. If you want something more substantial, graduate to the downstairs dining room for nourishing plates of ‘yesterday’s lasagne’, crab ravioli or fettuccine cacio e pepe – or, perhaps, one of big main courses such as pan-roasted cod with salt-baked celeriac, autumnal mushrooms and cavolo nero pesto. After that, the line-up of dolci has plenty of indulgent swagger, from tiramisu to Capocci vanilla gelato with Amarena cherry and chocolate brownie. Regional wines from the old country (£23 upwards) keep company with classic aperitivi, vermouths and spritzes. Eusebi’s slogan is ‘Food, Family, Life and Passion’ – which just about sums it up.

Picture credits: Gerardo Jaconelli

* The restaurant has closed as of February 2025. The two Forza Wine sites (in Peckham and at the National Theatre) continue to trade as normal. *

Back to life after its previous iteration (in a Peckham warehouse) was cancelled by the first lockdown, Forza Win (without an 'e') is an utterly comfortable and welcoming spirit-reviver in its own right. If you don't feel good about focused Italian flavours, Sicilian wine on tap or cool-but-kindly service, better check your pulse. Behind peachy arches overlooking Camberwell Church Street, the kitchen wears its technique with ease; for every serving of breezy spaghetti with clams and mussels, there's a bowl of fluffy Florentine topini with the intensity of mushroom stock and morels, or a masterfully breaded and fried lamb cutlet draped with anchovy fillets and served with chunky salsa verde. The selection of four secondi might range from a summery green vignarola (Roman vegetable stew) to a piece of pork belly sliding gently into its accompanying chickpeas with San Marzano tomatoes and capers. Such a satisfyingly compact menu will always be seasonal, although the house 'custardo' is non-negotiable – an affogato made with custard rather than ice cream. For more heft, the chocolate and apricot cake (shades of Sachertorte) or a blowsy take on tiramisu both deliver.

Attracting the cool, the curious and the convivial for its happy melange of sipping and supping, this joint venture comes from the comestible creatives behind the Thornwood Bar and one-time Malaysian staple, Julie’s Kopitiam (RIP). It's an equal billing that doubtless hits a sweet spot for many but may prove a little too bar-heavy for some. The decor is certainly more funky than formal, with stripped-back, post-industrial shabby-chic touches offering an eclectic and buzzy backdrop to animated chatter and diverse tunes. Amiable staff weave between closely packed tables distributing kaleidoscopic cocktails – pique your appetite with a bar classic from the 'Straight Up Swally' selection or perhaps brave the on-theme exoticism of a banana sesame sour. Meanwhile, a tsunami of tasty morsels races from the kitchen. Navigating the small-plates menu as a group brings the perennial challenge of quantity and pace. While the swift and unfussy delivery is obviously a local crowd-pleaser, staggered ordering may pay dividends for those wishing to slowly savour. Prawn toasts with chilli are generous, flavoursome and unapologetically calorific, while the Malaysian vegetable curry offers coconut comfort zapped with a confident hit of fragrant roasted chilli oil. Side dishes such as miso/garlic potato or chips with basil mayo (or the ubiquitous Kewpie mayo) remind you that, at heart, this is well-prepared street food given a contemporary makeover. As a final flourish (before one last cocktail perhaps), the Ga Ga sundae drizzles rich sesame caramel over passion fruit and coconut before balancing the sweetness with sour mango and salty peanut. Subtle? No. Bowl-lickingly tasty? Definitely. Booking is essential.

Like a shaft of Mediterranean sunlight illuminating the Kelvingrove end of Argyle Street, Gloriosa certainly lives up to its Latin name: ‘I think everything they do is exceptional,’ cheered one fan and others also find plenty to shout about – praising everything from the bold seasonality of the menu to the ‘refined vibe’ and the sheer ‘enthusiasm and thrills’ emanating from the place. The focaccia with olive oil is ‘as fresh as nonna would demand,’ noted one reader who also waxed lyrical about the green lentils in vinaigrette (‘as fresh as an Alpine morning’), while a dessert involving meringue, custard, cream and rhubarb conjured visions of a ‘jardin Provençal’. It’s all about vibrant, confidently executed dishes with colourful grace notes, from the Spanish-inspired grilled red Grelot onion with ajo blanco or ox heart with chickpeas and salsa rossa to crafty Italian pasta riffs such as paccheri with Isle of Wight tomatoes, marjoram and ricotta. Diners are warned that the house special of roast chicken with Caesar salad takes 30 minutes: ‘our chickens are cooked to order,’ declares the menu. If you can’t wait that long, perhaps order the hake with borlotti beans and roast violet artichokes finished with sage and aïoli. ‘Beautifully cool’ staff complement the food to perfection, while the wine list shines the spotlight on small-scale independent European producers, with house pours at affordable prices; alternatively, a bergamot-spiked Old Fashioned might float your boat.

Although it occupies a listed 19th-century courthouse, Hawksmoor Manchester is really more of a banker. It's been making reliability sexy since 2015, when diners first trod the parquet floor, enjoyed the touch of green leather and squinted at a blackboard offering some of the the best steak in town. The clubby look and low-lit bar belie a mixed crowd, which includes babes in arms and a significant youth contingent drawn by a good-value lunch and early-evening deal. Highlights include the heritage tomato salad – a glorious, glistening pile of zebra-striped toms and crumbled Graceburn cheese with saline, wafer-thin toast and loads of black pepper.

Then, of course, there's the triumphantly multi-hyphenate beef: British-bred, grass-fed, dry-aged and 'really-delicious'. Informed advice on cuts and cooking are there for those who want it and, from a long list of sides, there are triple-cooked chips (cleverly spritzed with salt and vinegar before they leave the kitchen) as well as nuggety Stichelton hollandaise, bone-marrow gravy and, for those with real commitment and determination, mac and cheese. Puddings tend towards the robust, but with seasonal touches; sorrel granita with a strawberry cheesecake, or a scoop of peach-leaf ice cream.

Sunday lunch is a big hitter, built around a whole rump of 35-day aged beef served with a spectacular array of extras and  accompaniments including gorgeous bone-marrow gravy. Lovely service is a given – staff have one setting and it's 'moodbooster extraordinaire'. To drink, expect a range of beers (some local) and a fabulous cocktail selection, as well as plenty of big, beefy wines; prices start around £40 and rise to stratospheric four-figure heights.

Laid-back, casual and with a utilitarian vibe you don’t expect in a coastal village on the edge Folkestone, John Dory Wine is one of a crop of exciting new-wave wine bars popping up around the country. It's somewhere for those who want to drink well for not too much money and embrace quality wines slightly outside the norm – there’s a daily changing blackboard listing selections by the glass, while bottles are chosen from shelves lining the room, all sold at retail price plus £10. The place has become so popular that since our last visit a kitchenette has been added at the back, allowing the team to broaden the range of food on offer. Inspired by co-owner Harry Johnson’s time cooking at Parisian restaurants such as L'Ami Jean, Le Baratin, Chez Casimir and L'Assiette, there’s now a regular (and often fully booked) bistro-style Sunday lunch where, among several choices, there could be poached leeks with ravigote sauce, roast chicken and mousse au chocolat. In addition, Wednesday night is pasta night, so expect to find the likes of lamb ragù tagliatelle, bookended by asparagus with tonnato sauce and fennel, and tiramisu. On most other days, everything on the menu is outsourced – but it's impeccable sourcing, extending to frequent appearances from locally made individual chicken or mutton pies, smoked haddock Scotch eggs and sausage rolls. There’s also a selection of high-quality tinned fish from Dorset-based Sea Sisters and cult European producers Pyscis. It's worth keeping an eye on Instagram for details of regular evenings from well-known local (and not so local) restaurants and chefs, as well as the latest food drops. Service, led by wine experts Louisa Walls and Zeren Wilson, is just right – enthusiastic, knowledgeable and friendly.

Just off Byres Road, this striking green-and-white tiled architectural A-lister brings the flavours and energy of South East Asian-inspired street food to Glasgow’s cool climes – and an even cooler customer base. The low-key side entrance leads down to a buzzing basement that celebrates the building’s industrial heritage with exposed metal ducting, brightly painted galvanised walls, functional furniture and a vibrant open kitchen. A young team of friendly and efficient servers help you explore less-familiar ingredients and navigate the Scoville scale for chilli heat.

There are plenty of opportunities for getting messy with finger food. Corn 'ribs' with salted coconut, dried shrimp and lime are a top shout, while one fan reckons that the sticky fried chicken with spicy caramel is ‘my death row meal’. Larger plates build layers of flavour, as in coconut-poached king prawns with jackfruit, white turmeric and chilli jam or a creative, veggie-friendly curry of roasted cauliflower, crispy potato and ajat pickle. Accompanying salads merit more than a minor supporting role – the hispi cabbage with cashew nut butter and house sriracha is ‘magic’ and a perennial hit, or you might fancy a simple salad of bitter leaves jazzed up with blackberry, hazelnut and prik nam pla.

Although it can occasionally veer towards hot cooking rather than haute cuisine, this is unapologetically bold, in-your-face food that certainly hits that ‘addictive’ sweet spot. Meanwhile, the bartenders craft cocktails that build on the four cardinal points of this culinary compass (hot, sour, salty and sweet) – or you might prefer a refreshing lemongrass and lime-leaf soda.

Nothing is too much bother for the tuned-in, courteous staff at this big-city bistro from crowdfunding supremo Gary Usher – in fact they make you feel like you are ‘part of the gang’, in a local haunt where everyone knows your name. Inside, Kala looks the part, smart but not showy, with chic forest-green banquettes, an open kitchen and a pared-back mezzanine dining room with a bar below.

Knowledgeably sourced ingredients and seasonal forays define the ever-changing menu, which is all about assertive flavours from home and abroad. Sticky belly bacon with parsnip purée and sesame dukkah sauce is one way to begin, or you might prefer beetroot and Cashel Blue arancini with walnut butter. To follow, there are classics (confit duck leg, braised featherblade of beef), as well as globally inspired fish dishes such as pan-roasted cod with white onion purée, lardo ibérico, hen of the woods mushrooms and toasted hazelnuts.

The kitchen is also brilliant at the ‘simple things’: honey-baked goat’s cheese; the now-legendary truffle and Parmesan chips; carrots with smoked garlic honey; top-drawer Sunday roasts; warm spiced Eccles cakes with whipped cream. Value for money has always been high on Gary Usher’s agenda: the ‘3 for £20’ bistro menu is an absolute steal, and wines are also easy on the pocket as well as the palate.

‘A welcoming place with real heart and passion,’ the Kinsella family’s authentic Catalan tapas joint and deli has been one of the city's roaring success stories of the past few years, offering a taste of sun-splashed Spanish tradition beamed into the Liverpool One shopping complex. A large red map dominates one wall for geographical orientation, while views into the kitchen are an education in themselves, assuming you haven't opted to sit out in the bright Merseyside sunshine.

Kick-start the day with a traditional Catalan migas (country breakfast) of cured meats sautéed with breadcrumbs, onion and garlic, topped with a poached egg. The full menu gives meat, fish and vegetables (almost) equal billing. Here you’ll find everything from fragrant morcilla balls coated in cornflakes and slathered with a rich sauce of orange-blossom honey and pomegranate molasses to boquerones from Cantabria's finest (Pujadó Solano), accompanied by Spanish potato crisps – not forgetting roasted parsnips tossed in maple syrup and dusted with dukkah.

There are also deli platters aplenty, as well as big pans of paella and tasting banquets for the whole table to plunder; they even serve a Catalan riff on Liverpool’s classic ‘scouse’. Round things off with vanilla ice cream served with turrón and pelted with PX-drenched raisins. Gins are almost as much of a speciality as sherries, and there is a regionally diverse slate of artisan Spanish wines in two glass sizes from around £6.80.

Lympstone is an august, largely Georgian manor house in shimmering crème fraîche, once the ancestral residence of the Anglo-German banking dynasty, the Barings. With the addition of landscaped grounds, shaded verandas and a turret, the place became a Regency cynosure, and its acquisition a decade ago by Michael Caines MBE has seen it glide seamlessly into the country-hotel genre, with extensive vineyards centred on sparkling wine production and woodland huts overlooking the Exe estuary. The tranquillity of the setting makes it a cinch for a summer visit, the old-school silver-ish service in chandeliered dining rooms helping create an atmosphere of refined civility.

Representing Caines in the kitchen is Jordan Denning, who executes the finely wrought culinary style with immaculate attention to detail. If dishes appear a little country-house delicate on the menu, they put any such impression to flight on the plate. Robust, emphatic flavours boom out from the confit of Loch Duart salmon in its own ponzu-laced consommé with wasabi yoghurt, honey and soy vinaigrette and dab of oscietra caviar. Roasted quail is piled onto a tartlet with smoked bacon and onion confit, underpinned by the throb of black truffle.

Main courses are classically founded, each meat with its intensely reduced jus (Madeira for the Creedy Carver chicken; lamb stock and thyme for Powderham new season's lamb), while braised turbot comes with a chive butter sauce, white asparagus, peas and morels for a supple balance of fresh and earthy notes. Jivara mousse with blood-orange sorbet (a classic combination of chocolate and citrus) doesn't have to wait for Christmas to come on stream, while the time-hallowed temperature contrast of ice cream meeting hot soufflé (both of pistachio) is the last word in sensuality.

The stunning wine list recognises no frontiers to its ambitious reach, at mark-ups that will do nothing at all to surprise you. Recommendations by the small glass (from £12.50) are not the most thrilling, but the prestige selection (made available via a gas-control system) offers a peep into the cellar's glorious hinterland.

Frequent queues stretching out of the door are testament to the daily popularity of this trendy modern Italian, which is marked by an ornamental boar's head suspended above the entrance. Manteca is that sort of place, a Shoreditch resource named boldly after a variety of fat – lard, to be precise. Ground floor seats offers views into the open kitchen, while downstairs refrigerated cabinets of home-cured charcuterie whet the appetite (salumi and prosciutto are tip-top and not to be missed). An infectious buzz animates the whole restaurant, augmented by piped tunes that some may find passably funky.

The kitchen is deadly serious about sourcing from the best suppliers, menus often change several times a day, and the chefs have the autonomy to put new dishes together on the fly. The result is a much less formulaic repertoire than is often the Italian case. A plate of line-caught sea bass crudo dressed with green strawberries was a seasonal treat on our most recent visit, while a dramatic swoop of rich, silky duck liver parfait was served with black date jam and a pile of craggy chargrilled bread. Hand-rolled pasta stars in fazzoletti with duck-fat pangrattato or tonnarelli with brown crab cacio e pepe, ahead of mains from the wood-fired oven – perhaps John Dory, plaice or a premium cut of longhorn beef. Finish with a doorstop helping of almond cake with stone-fruit and vanilla gelato.

A minimal-waste approach sees some of the beef fat turning up in the fudge with coffee, while the copiously unusable bits of globe artichoke might eventually find their way into the house cynar liqueur. Service is temperamentally patchy – mostly hail-fellow, occasionally glum. However, eminently kind pricing earns the places bonus points, especially as Italian wines on tap start at £5.50 a glass. Adventurous imbibers, meanwhile, should home in the sections of the list entitled ‘down the rabbit hole’.

There are currently two Marays in Liverpool, one at the Britannia Pavilion on Albert Dock and this outlet, at the top end of restaurant-heavy Bold Street. Sitting cheek-by-jowl with eateries of every complexion, it is dedicated to Levantine meze (labneh, houmous et al) and bigger traditional dishes (lamb shawarma, spiced lentil and rice majadara). There's a popular, good-value lunch too, while well-chosen cocktails and wines are a decent match for the food. 

Run by a ’friendly, capable team’ who care about the food they are serving, this relaxed spot is best known for its seasonal brunch and lunch dishes. Sit inside or take advantage of the ample pavement seating for a global menu that might run from bacon, cockles and laverbread on toast to shakshuka, huevos rancheros and onion bhaji buns, plus sweet stuff such as burnt Basque cheesecake. On Friday and Saturday evenings, it’s walk-ins only as the kitchen rolls out its menu of artisan pizzette (chargrilled artichokes with Gordal olives and roast peppers, say) backed by charcuterie, tinned fish, bespoke cocktails and natural wines (curated by the local Pontcanna Bottle Shop). The coffee is good too.

Finding a long-standing culinary offer at the bottom of Byres Road can be a challenge. To find one that has been doing the business since 1999 and still consistently delivers imaginative and tasty dishes at reasonable prices makes you value the commitment of small, passionate local restaurateurs. The premises are petite and whether you're on the bijou mezzanine or at street level, you’ll be cosy with your neighbours. However, loyal regulars and visitors are here for the food and the friendly service. With well-priced set lunches and a fuller carte on offer, expect to see locally sourced ingredients given contemporary makeovers. Start, perhaps, with cured sea trout confidently matched with watermelon gazpacho, compressed melon flesh and pickled rind – any residual sweetness offset by dried ribbons of nori, baby chervil and salty pops of trout roe. Main courses are strong on local meats and fish, although more limited vegetarian choices also show care and craft. Slow-cooked Ramsay’s pork belly segues confidently from its Lanarkshire origins to more exotic climes in company with pineapple, pak choi, coconut and chilli sauce – they’re clearly not afraid to mix things up in the tiny kitchen. Elsewhere, tender Gressingham duck in various forms has been described as 'one of the best dishes I have eaten this year'. Desserts offer both sugar ‘overload’ and fresher options – a deconstructed crowdie cheesecake with intriguing salted pistachio and almond ice cream plus some dark fresh cherries bridges the two extremes. Like the menu, the wine list is well-balanced, with comforting staples alongside some more interesting options – all at reasonable prices.

* At lunchtime, guests can now order individually priced dishes in addition to the 'Fish Kitchen to Share' tasting menu. *

‘I saved the best till last,’ commented a visitor to this ‘remarkable small restaurant’ overlooking the slipway. Housed in the oldest building in the fishing village where Doc Martin was filmed, it’s all ancient, gnarled ships’ timbers, a very low ceiling and the definite feeling of pouring a quart into a half-pint pot (the tiny bathroom requires a determined effort at self-compression). The whole place is run with great enthusiasm, with the six-course tasting menu – ‘lovely, simple, brief’ – moving along at a reassuring pace. It’s another string to Nathan Outlaw’s bow, a local, seasonal and sustainable commitment filtering down from parent Outlaw’s New Road at the top of the village. Here, the offerings might take in diced cured bass, dressed in spiced pumpkin ketchup and served on a crisp blue corn tostado (so popular it’s fast achieving cult status); a lobster dumpling in seafood broth, which comes with a piece of sensational sesame toast; and crisply breadcrumbed megrim sole, with pickled slaw and jalapeño mayonnaise. Elsewhere, John Dory was excellent at inspection, big enough in flavour to stand up to an old-school creamy mushroom sauce. With the bounty of the seas getting star billing, you might expect dessert to be a perfunctory offering, but not so. A dome of browned Italian meringue contains seductively tangy passion fruit and lime parfait on a coconut shortbread biscuit base. There are some aristocratic wines on the short list, with both Cornwall and the classic French regions showing up well. Note, the tiny dimensions mean that the Fish Kitchen gets booked up way ahead.

* The restaurant is closing for a six-month refit from 13 October 2024. *

Ox and Finch has maintained its popularity and standards since first wowing the Glasgow in-crowd with its ‘group-grazing’ approach back in 2014. Stylistically, this corner site creates a crowded and energetic neighbourhood bistro within a converted Victorian tenement building. Elegant plasterwork ceilings are offset by industrial gantries, repurposed wooden finishes and low booth seating. It may be artfully designed to look scuffed and loved but, rest assured, there’s due care and attention to detail when it comes to the food and the 'relaxed, friendly service'. The varied menu of around 30 items offers a seasonally changing feast of mini creations, making it 'always exciting to go back'. Dishes can arrive randomly, but ordering in small waves offsets this, allowing time for sharing and savouring. Start perhaps with devilled eggs, jazzed up with sweet southern Indian spices and served with the tiniest chips imaginable and an indulgent daub of caviar. The artisan charcuterie platter showcases proper mortadella – silky, flavoursome, pistachio-laden and worlds away from the shaved pink rubber that too often passes for this under-valued gem. Perfectly pan-roasted and crisped chicken thigh comes with Jerusalem artichokes three ways (puréed, roasted and shaved) and a chicken butter sauce which is as unctuous as it sounds. Satisfyingly al dente tubetti with brown butter, peas and guanciale gives an ironic and more authentic nod to Scotland’s apparent obsession with macaroni cheese. There’s plenty for those seeking lighter flavours, while vegan and vegetarian options are gathered on a separate menu. Desserts are well judged, with pineapple carpaccio, coconut and a zesty lime and tarragon curd offering a summery close. A wine wall showcases some of the vintages from a list that achieves a credible level of imagination and ambition while remaining affordable and accessible. Booking is essential, with an online 'waitlist' for the coveted outdoor tables that get packed on Glasgow’s valued sunny days.

Of all the multifarious eating and drinking opportunities in the heart of Soho, this ‘warmly welcoming’ little restaurant is one of the more compelling. Rita’s goes about its business with gusto, its popularity not surprising given the casual vibe, the warmth of the service and straight-to-the point modern American-style cooking. It’s not going to win any prizes for inventiveness – dishes tend to be simple assemblies built around seasonal British produce – but barbecued beef tartare with garlic, raw vegetables and lots of herbs, and a special of corn-crusted turbot served on a heap of courgettes and set in a puddle of herb butter – were good calls on a warm spring evening. Salt-fish taquitos have been praised, fried chicken parmigiana puts in an appearance, and flavours are ramped up with prime cuts and sharing steaks (order with ‘wrong way’ French fries). Desserts feature the likes of sunflower ice cream with caramel sundae, and the express lunch of, say, fried chicken roll, Caesar salad or eggplant panino is good value. Cocktails star alongside a European wine list stuffed with on-trend low intervention producers.

A Leeds landmark since 1976, family-owned Salvo’s has lost none of its legendary pulling power as it heads towards its 50th year. Flame-blistered, creatively topped Neapolitan-style pizzas and an impressive choice of pastas are the kitchen’s calling cards, but don’t ignore the remainder of the regular menu or the specials board – perhaps chickpea and tomato fritters, pastrami-style salmon ‘crudo’ or grilled chicken with cauliflower purée, spinach and ‘nduja jus. Desserts are time-honoured trattoria staples (tiramisu, panna cotta, lemon and polenta cake), and drinks stay with the patriotic theme – from zesty aperitifs to regional wines. Great fun and great value for families, kids, students and everyone in between.

* Head chef Stu Deeley has left Smoke, but the restaurant will continue to trade as normal until 23 February 2025. After that, a new restaurant called Kynd will launch, with David Taylor (from Grace & Savour) at the helm. Watch this space.*

Most waiters are used to shimmying between tables; fewer have to navigate scrambling tomato plants too. Pull up a seat in the bountiful greenhouse – or inside Smoke's restored furnace house – and let the maverick, music-filled vibe fostered by chef Stu Deeley and embraced by an engaging front-of-house team, leave a smile on your face. As day fades, festoon lights (pinprick stars beyond the glass ceiling) and a firepit stoked for post-dinner DIY s’mores, create magic: cooked over coals, dinner here is deliciously playful. A ‘garden grazing’ plate whets the appetite with crunchy kale, radish and cured beetroot, Cobble Lane charcuterie, and house-made sourdough to scoop through a glossy chive emulsion. You might follow with cauliflower, cooked to nutty savouriness in yeast butter and served with local Berkswell cheese sauce and sharp beer-pickled onions; otherwise, there could be cured day-boat mackerel, flecked with bronze fennel and tiny nasturtium leaves, all brightened with the peppy flavours of horseradish, ponzu and elderflower vinegar. This works a treat with a sip of skin-fermented Zealandia Sauvignon Blanc from the Hermit Ram winery – one of the pours on a short wine list packed with alternative interest. Moving on, turbot is tucked luxuriously under a cascade of sugar snap peas and pearls of courgette in chimichurri sauce (vegetables are from the Manor's kitchen garden a few steps away) and there’s a shoal of brown shrimps in the mix too. Don’t miss the boulangère potatoes, darkly sweet with caramelised onions, and do make room for pudding because a lemon meringue tartlet, biscuity of base, treads that sweet-sharp line with masterly dexterity. As well as dinner (Tue-Sat), Smoke is now open for lunch three days a week (Fri-Sun); otherwise, linger over morning coffee and temptations from the vigorously recommended on-site bakery.

Older subscribers may recall the Taco Boys' horse-box on Porthilly beach. It was the jumping-off point for the collective that now runs Stage in Exeter's bosky Magdalen Road district, a 10-minute flit from the city centre. The place has been dolled up a little in the last few years, with comfier booth-style seating and the reception desk now moved sensibly to the door. Felix Craft and his team can be seen through a broad hatch at the back, while the effervescent Robbie Ashby runs the front with galvanising panache.

The place takes about five minutes to fill up in the evening (book well ahead), and a sense of community prevails – we're all eating the same things, after all (give or take the odd allergy). It's four set courses at lunch, six at dinner, changing weekly. We began with a bowl of yummy beetroot gazpacho, accompanied by a steel brochette of beetroot, bresaola and quail's egg. Next up was a shatteringly good version of Chinese sticky chilli beef, made with battered and glazed shin, on an underlay of stir-fried spring greens, asparagus and slivered garlic – a stunning success. An intermediate salad saw more wafer-thin, rosy-red beef topped with Devon Blue cheese and rocket, before a majestic main course of crisped pollock with lemony fennel and wholewheat farfalle in a puddle of 'nudja fat, sizzling with chilli. 

A cheese course with lacto-fermented mini-plums and candied pistachios followed, while the whole show was rounded off with a slice of rhubarb frangipane tart, its accompanying milk espuma dotted with cornflakes. The drinks flight is worth taking: only three of the six items were wine when we visited, the rest were aromatic cocktails, shrubs and shandy. Not every match is, strictly speaking, a match, and the approach can teeter on the edge of recklessness, but it adds hugely to the fun. Which is exactly what Stage aims to deliver.

Specialising in the culinary traditions of Kerala in southern India, Tharavadu generates a voluminous stream of plaudits from loyal customers. It has the kind of fanbase that not only returns regularly, but has acquired some knowledge of the distinctive regional specialities the kitchen deals in. The former captain of India's test cricket team, Virat Kohli, is a confirmed supporter, and there ought to be no arguing with an endorsement like that. In the warm embrace of hospitable staff, everybody feels welcome, and the kitchen hits one highlight after another. The mutta roast starter, a preparation of boiled eggs in chilli-hot tomato and onion, served with appam, is technically a breakfast dish, but who's counting? A more conventional way in might be with adipoli chemmeen, grilled prawns alight with their spice marinade, served with lemon chutney. Fans dream of the meen koottan, a classic coastal fish curry replete with Keralan seasonings and kokum mangosteen, best ordered with house paratha. Lamb mappas is a traditional Easter dish of the regional Christian community, incorporating spinach and a complex mix of garam masala and other spices. There's fresh okra in mustard as a side-order, zesty lemon rice to accompany, and cardamom and saffron vermicelli if you've any room left. A decent wine list, from £17.95, should cope with the cooking.

The 10 Cases is so named because owners Will Palmer and Ian Campbell buy just 10 cases of each listed wine on their 23-bin list – all offered by the glass, carafe and bottle (from around £33) – then don’t stock it again when it's all sold. However, this is no spot for cult producer fanciers chasing the rarest Burgundy or for those who just want to glug cheap plonk; it's somewhere for those who want to drink well for not too much money and embrace quality wines slightly outside the norm – we sampled a bottle of 2014 Morgon Les Charmes from Château Grange Cochard, a richer, modern style of Beaujolais. All in all, it’s a crowd puller. The place is also billed as a neighbourhood Bistrot à Vin, with a menu of simple, affordable French classics – perhaps smoked duck breast with rémoulade and candied walnuts or steak frites with peppercorn sauce – all served against a pitch-perfect backdrop of small tables, warm, low lighting and white walls covered with blackboards listing wine and food. We kicked off with a trio of small plates: blistered Padrón peppers hot from the fryer and dusted in rosemary salt; cod cheeks in a light, crisp tempura-style batter sprinkled with chilli and spring onion and served with a sweet, smoky, spicy vadouvan mayo; and a bowl of bacon-rich, creamy rillettes topped with cornichons. Next up, a whole roasted pork T-bone chop (for two to share). This was carved into slices alongside the bone and served with a wonderfully intense meat sauce, light and creamy celeriac purée and two halves of roasted apple – plus two huge slabs of confit-style potatoes layered with roasted onions on the side. To finish? Panna cotta with pistachios, and treacle tart with crème fraîche. Next door is the Cave à Vin wine bar, which is for walk-ins only.

With forested hills sloping onto fields of grazing sheep and the Gothic remains of Byland Abbey towering over the entrance, this pub with rooms is a dream ticket – no wonder it was snapped up by chef Tommy Banks (the Black Swan at Oldstead is nearby). Inside, there’s a little bar with a snug for those wanting a drink, but the main action takes place in the three dining rooms, one of which is the former piggery – an expansive room with beams, giant flagstones and a double-facing log-burning stove, all illuminated by a conservatory-style skylight. The mood is relaxed and staff stay on top of their tasks, while cute details in the handsome finishes speak of Tommy Banks’ pedigree.

The food also makes a connection to the Banks family farm (without labouring the point), and chef Charlie Smith serves up a procession of seriously appealing, modern pub-style dishes – an incredibly original Dexter steak tartare, perhaps, cut into uniform nuggets resembling translucent rubies decorated with grated wild horseradish, fermented peppers and smoked bone marrow. Elsewhere, there might be a light, elegant plate of smoked Pablo beetroot with ewe’s curd, preserved Yorkshire rhubarb and linseed crackers for texture. Some of the meaty main courses such as a pork rib chop with fermented mushroom béarnaise could do with a little finessing, although fish dishes hit the spot – judging by a pitch-perfect serving of cod with a splendid mussel cream sauce and purple-red potatoes on the side.

Everything is executed with flair, professionalism and a deep respect for local ingredients – and that extends to the dazzling roasts served for Sunday lunch (check out the rare-breed Berkshire pork and Herdwick lamb from the family farm, just two miles away). If you're looking for real value, however, order the mighty Dexter cheeseburger with fries, plus a pint of Yorkshire-brewed ale and a shared dessert – say a soft-serve sundae topped with Douglas fir, blackcurrant and white chocolate. Aside from real ale, drinks include seasonal cocktails, homemade libations and a short but decent selection of wines with plenty by the glass.

Once home to the only Abergavenny man ever to become Mayor of London, the Angel is a classic late-Georgian coaching inn with pillared entrance and flying flags – a sturdy-looking monument to the graces of hospitality. Its main dining space, the Oak Room, adorned with colourful modern paintings, plays host to Wesley Hammond's resourceful cooking, but a table in the courtyard on a sunny day makes for its own kind of contentment.

The choice is as vast as people would expect to see in a pub/hotel dining room, with starters ranging from favourites such as crab cocktail to San Daniele ham with figs and Camembert, while main courses bring on pan-fried skate wing with parsley potatoes and caper sauce, burgers, dry-aged steaks and venison haunch in sauce Diane with colcannon mash. Wye Valley asparagus is welcomed in like an old friend when its season comes around each year. Finish with tarte tatin and amaretto ice cream or chocolate nemesis with clementine sorbet; otherwise, plump for the three-part ‘café gourmand’ selection of mini desserts.

Everything is served in an atmosphere of infectious jollity, with Sunday lunches offering a particularly valued local resource. The hotel is also known for its afternoon teas and high teas. A serviceable range of wines comes in three glass sizes as well as by the bottle (check out the Welsh representatives from White Castle Vineyard in Llanvetherine), and the bartender's full-throttle Negroni is made with Tanqueray gin.

Terry Laybourne's self-styled ‘proper pub’ stands not far from the north bank of the Tyne. It looks the part too, with a polished oak bar furnished with high stools, a plain wood floor and inviting banquettes. The dining goes on upstairs, in an equally convivial setting of sturdy wood tables, where cheery staff dispense the kind of food you thought city pubs didn't do any more. There are raised pork pies, Scotch eggs, potted shrimps – and not a leaf of amaranth to be seen.

A serving of Dorset crab with kohlrabi, celery and fennel is about as foofy as it gets. Otherwise, enjoy the sight of bubble and squeak with a fried egg and HP sauce, calf's liver and bacon with crispy onions or smoked haddock fishcakes with proper tartare sauce. As you would imagine, it's food to fortify yourself against the northern chill (whatever time of year) and it's probably best accompanied by one of the cannily chosen seasonal beers.

Sunday roasts are every bit as satisfying as you would expect, complete with mint sauce to daub on the shoulder of lamb, and there are sponge puddings of course – perhaps made with whisky marmalade and served with lashings of custard. Too full by now? Then take a lemon sorbet. Those who incline more to the grape than the grain will be grateful for a decent selection by the glass, starting with Castilian house wines.

Along the narrows at the top end of Totnes, the Bull Inn is a flesh-coloured pub that has had the kind of makeover that makes over a million pounds look artfully like ten grand. Foliage entwines the rafters, potted plants loom in the corners, the bar frontage is done in jade-green, and an air of dynamic, but not oppressive, hubbub prevails. Organic and ethical credentials pour forth from both the portable chalkboard menus and the drinks list, where cask ales, cloudy shrubs and ingenious cocktails are the main lures. An extensive roll call of substantial starters is cause for celebration, with both roasted late Jerusalem artichokes in green sauce, and grilled early asparagus spattered with garlic and hazelnuts, on offer at our spring visit. A trio of venison koftas in thin cumin-laced yoghurt, sumac onions and honey proved to be a delightful way in. Mains bring a shorter choice of enterprising veggie dishes, an old-school bistro bavette in creamy mushroom sauce, or a hunk of (very slightly overdone) monkfish in the kind of buttery curry sauce that could have seen service on a bag of chips. For dessert, a complicated cake of chocolate and olive-oil mousse on pistachio sponge, dressed with Cognac-poached pear, coffee syrup and mascarpone filled to capacity the tiny tea-plate it was served on. Otherwise, resist if you can the Basque cheesecake with Earl Grey prunes. Wines are a little less than thrilling, but there is a reasonable selection in three glass sizes.

Since landing on Farringdon Road in 1991, the Eagle has staked its claim as one of the originators of the so-called ‘gastropub’ genre. This lively, ever-popular boozer has resisted all forms of gentrification over the years, and remains, most assuredly, a pub. Small tables and bar stools around the perimeter are defined as 'free seating', although you can book. Order at the bar, choosing beer from the row of taps (try a craft keg from the guys who opened the Hackney Brewery) and food from the day’s menu scrawled on the board over the stove.

Edward Mottershaw (only the pub’s third ever head chef) cooks gutsy, country food from across Europe, but mostly from Italy and the Iberian Peninsula. The ‘bife ana’ rump steak sandwich has been on the menu since day one and it still reigns supreme for many punters – although others prefer the heartier seasonally adapted dishes. On a typical day you might find hake steak with lentils and salsa cruda, roast pork belly with braised peas, celeriac and pickled cabbage or grilled aubergine with tzatziki, followed by the near-ubiquitous burnt Basque cheesecake.

Spain dominates the cracking list of quaffable and affordable wines, or you could plump for a well-mixed cocktail such as Dark & Stormy – or even the Eagle's famously thirst-quenching Rock Shandy. ‘No fuss, no frills and everything is done with a lot of love,’ concluded an inspector.

The earliest licence was granted to the current inn's predecessor, once a smugglers’ drinking den, at about the same time as they were storming the Bastille over the Channel. Having seemingly played an incidental role in the action of Lorna Doone, the pub is now owned by the Greenall brewing family, who have extensively refurbished the place in tasteful contemporary style.

Chef Prim Lapuz's kitchen is justly proud of its meat supplies, which mostly originate from nearby sources, and it's no surprise that the place has garnered many nominations for its Sunday roasts: ‘I have never had such amazing beef,’ is typical of readers’ comments. The sausages are pretty good too, perhaps made from a blend of Exmoor venison and pork belly, served with wild garlic mash and Cumberland sauce. Fish dishes are equally convincing, too, with a slab of hake in a rich sauce incorporating brown crabmeat among the possibilities.

With the likes of grilled squid and chilli jam or a satisfyingly chunky country terrine with onion marmalade among the starters, it's clear nobody will turn faint for lack of nourishment. Crumbles and puddings bring up the rear in stout fashion, or you might consider something like a chocolate, orange and prune frangipane tart served with clotted cream. The drinks side of the operation is as comprehensively furnished as you would expect from proprietors who have been in the alcohol business since the 18th century.

On the fringes of a 1,000-acre deer park just four miles from the Norfolk coast, this idiosyncratic pub/restaurant with rooms is quite a prospect. The grey-stone exterior may seem rather stark but inside all is comforting, thanks to soft, warm furnishings, lots of varnished woodwork, leather, blazing fires and the owners' collection of contemporary British art from the likes of Tracey Emin, Damien Hirst and Lucien Freud.

A recently acquired walled garden and chicken coop bolster the kitchen's larder, while big-boned British dishes are the order of the day. Much attention focuses on the mighty Elk Room fire, where cuts of meat are dramatically cooked to order as you watch from your table – expect anything from Blythburgh pork chops, ribs of beef and herby Gunton venison sausages to flavoursome sirloin steak served with goose-fat roasties, sauces and rowan jelly. Rich, carefully seasoned pies are also something of a trademark (perhaps chicken, bacon and leek) and there’s fish from the coast too (sea trout with seashore vegetables and King’s Lynn shrimps, for example). For afters, a delicate Amedei chocolate mousse was the standout for one visitor, but there’s also comfort to be had from the vanilla cheesecake with rhubarb or the Bramley apple and almond tart.

Sunday brings roast Aberdeen Angus sirloin as well as roasted chickens, which are carved by skilled staff and served with veg from the walled garden, garlicky bread sauce and a spectacular gravy that elevates the whole feast to another level. Everyone praises the cheerful, prompt and ‘incredibly friendly’ service too. Norfolk ales are on tap in the bar and the short wine list offers a decent spread at fair prices.

With its rampant popularity all but necessitating a relocation to larger premises, this Leith upstart has matured into its new, grown-up home with grace, becoming an altogether more polished proposition as a restaurant. Carrying over the nautical blues and cool whites of its predecessor, the new room has a bright, Scandinavian quality, with the open kitchen breathing warm light across the restaurant. Getting a table on a Saturday night remains a matter of blind luck, or a wait of two or so months.

The expanded kitchen brigade, operating under co-owner Roberta Hall and head chef Dominic Greechan, delivers a concise, ambitious menu of dishes that are never less than meticulous, and are frequently beautiful. A case in point: a resplendent duck salad starter where a rosy, slightly gamey breast contrasts with the bittersweet crunch of ruddy castelfranco leaves, while a glossy, hearty bundle of accompanying rillettes is tempered by fruity laces of orange.

Mains are similarly praiseworthy. An eclectic two-part lamb dish (fillet and merguez sausage) showcases the delicious potential and variety of their nose-to-tail approach, while a perfectly cooked cod fillet, yielding and succulent with delicately crisp skin and shrimp butter, is very nearly upstaged by a small, flawless bowl of mash, adorned with a crown of brittle, saline seaweed. Desserts might flit between an unusually effervescent rhubarb trifle and the joyous experience of smearing funky, whipped Hebridean Blue cheese across a hot cross bun, while sipping a glass of chewy Portuguese tawny port.

Out front, Shaun McCarron has built on and embellished his experience in fine-dining service. His team is precise and knowledgeable, but as importantly, affable and relaxed, with a sommelier whose confident and well-considered suggestions draw on an exciting, varied and approachable list.

As with bungee-jumping or a trip to Venice, dinner at The Ritz is one of those experiences that every life should ideally embrace at least once. There is nothing in either hemisphere that looks like the hotel's dining room on a balmy day, with the sun pouring in off Green Park – unless it be the evening scene, when gilded Poseidon lolls on his pedestal, sparkling chandeliers twinkle and the silverware gleams like honesty in a sinful world.

In the distant past, the cooking idled amid pedestrian Anglo-French cliché, but under John Williams MBE, it began a steady ascent toward global greatness. Needless to say, the style of service is an exercise in arts that have been cheerfully abandoned elsewhere, and yet there is genuine warmth within the impeccable propriety. Prime materials from the home nations – organic Cornish beef, Lakeland lamb, Scottish lobster – furnish a menu that is supple enough to be parlayed into five- or seven-course ‘epicurean experiences’ for those reluctant to tear themselves away.

To start, there's Dorset crab dressed in crème fraîche and adorned with Imperial caviar, or you might plump for roast quail cooked in verjus and crunchy with hazelnuts. The delicacy of timing is exemplary throughout, from wild sea bass with artichoke and lemon to truffled veal fillet with chestnuts, but equally sharp judgement distinguishes the miraculously tender roe deer and its aromatic garnitures of smoked beetroot and juniper.

Tableside service was what there was before open kitchens, a chance to see the finishing touches being applied to dîner à deux servings of Dover sole or beef Wellington, followed perhaps by crêpes Suzette – an Edwardian culinary bloop that stuck. Otherwise, look to chocolate soufflé with vanilla Chantilly, chestnut Mont Blanc or the distinctly daring port-roasted figs in orange and olive oil.

If you're after a spot of wine as well, the Ritz can oblige. Perhaps start with a larger-than-average glass of the ‘Champagne of the month’, before setting about the main list. French and Italian classics form the solid, lottery-win foundation, but there are excellent selections from South America and Australasia too.

Small wonder the Rose & Crown attracts comments such as ‘our go-to pub’. Under the same ownership for nearly 30 years, this venerable hostelry with rooms is a reliable stalwart that's equally popular with thirsty villagers, second-home owners and holidaymakers sneaking inland from the coast. It’s near Snettisham’s church and was built about the same time, a 14th-century whitewashed beauty with two gorgeous old bars (all beams, open fires, real ales and general cosiness) and a large, light dining room extension – its beachside vibe helped by part-panelled walls and wooden rafters hung with fairy lights. Outside in the enclosed garden, the theme continues with new beach-hut bars joining the established children’s play area. The seasonal menu of modern pub food also has a seaside accent (Brancaster mussels is a ‘signature’ in cooler months), boosted by specials and ‘classics’ such as burgers, curries and steaks. There are plenty of high points – from pea, mint and Norfolk Mardler (cheese) risotto to precision-cooked whole plaice paired with perfect in-season purple sprouting broccoli. Best of all during our visit was an expertly wrought combo of passion fruit gâteau, passion fruit parfait and lemon tart with raspberry coulis, which could have graced any haute cuisine establishment. Less heart-gladdening was a lacklustre Thai sauce in an otherwise praiseworthy dish of linguine with plump prawns and tender squid, while our chocolate and hazelnut tart has thick, dryish pastry. Service dwindled as the afternoon wore on, yet it was hard to blame the cheery young waitresses. Drinkers supping pints of Woodforde’s Wherry populate the bars, while vinophiles can choose from a serviceable list that includes a trio of Norfolk wines.

Seafood cooked over fire is a USP to grab the attention of any self-identifying foodie – and it gets even better, because the Salt Room occupies a spot overlooking the English Channel. It's a shame about the busy road out front, especially if you're lucky enough to have nabbed a table on the terrace, but this is Brighton and you're not here for the tranquillity, right? Crittal-style floor-to-ceiling windows serve up seaside views indoors too (depending on where you're seated). There's an energy to the place which suits the city – it's big and loud. The menu favours seafood but meaty and veggie things are not discarded, perhaps Himalayan salt-aged ribeye, or tempura king oyster mushrooms. If you're diving into the seafood, and have a willing accomplice, the blackboard reveals the market fish of the day, cooked over hot coals: Brighton sea bass or Cornish brill, say, filleted or on the bone ('so you can divvy it up yourself'), arrives with potatoes, vegetables, lemongrass and seaweed consommé. Mackerel 'nduja is a first-course rillette with tangy salted ricotta and pickled shallots, or there might be tuna crudo with spicy ponzu. A main-course cod, cooked just-so, comes with cauliflower multiple ways and a shellfish bisque of proper depth, while Cornish monkfish gets the barbecue treatment and a stew of white beans and 'nduja (again). Desserts include a board of seaside-themed treats, but the highlight for one reader was a choux bun with passion fruit and mango crémeux. The wine list kicks off with a selection called 'Coastal Whites', which sails from Kefalonia to Cape Aghulas; bottles start at £25, with plenty of options by the glass and carafe. 

Sitting majestically at one end of Padstow, Rick Stein's family-run flagship is truly one of the heritage addresses of British gastronomy. In business continuously since 1975, it has played a major role in overcoming what was the national ambivalence about seafood. Those who always claimed they liked fish but didn't know what to do with it have been inspired by a range of dishes that has never shied away from stepping off the straight and narrow – witness the likes of Indonesian fish curry with green bean and coconut salad, or vigorously spiced monkfish with roasted butternut squash and crispy chicken skin.

At heart, though, it's sterling tradition that is celebrated most fulsomely here, producing hearty Provençal-style fish soup with rouille and croûtons, platters of cold or hot fruits de mer, and main courses such as casseroled hake, chargrilled sea bass with tomato, butter and vanilla vinaigrette, or the show-stopping lobster thermidor in cream and Noilly Prat, served with skinny chips. People appreciate the bright, relaxing atmosphere and the first-class service, and even if the cost of it all can mount up formidably, it is usually felt to be worth the outlay.

Bistro-style desserts round things off with classics such as lemon tart, chocolate fondant or passion-fruit pavlova. Wines by the glass open with a quality Muscadet Sur Lie, the kind of seafood-friendly white that has all but disappeared from other lists. The quality throughout is highly commendable, but markups may well be found too hot to handle.

The buzzy, anticipatory atmosphere among diners at this polished magnet for Berkshire’s food-lovers is contagious. Lucratively located near the M4, A34 and A4, the Woodspeen nevertheless occupies a quiet patch of verdant countryside and comes complete with a cookery school. In 2014, it was converted from a pub – though you’d hardly realise this when you're reclining on a smart grey banquette in the stylish modern dining room to the rear, with its soaring wooden ceiling (topped by a skylight), windows looking onto the garden and full-length open-view kitchen. The food continues to attract heaps of plaudits from a multitude of fans – and it's easy to see why. Roast halibut with crispy chicken-skin crumb, Bollinger and apple purée indicates the level of ambition to be found here, while beef Wellington for two is a speciality – although even the good-value set menu displays culinary flair and a feel for local ingredients (many from the restaurant’s kitchen garden). In May, for example, you might begin with the most delicate Parmesan arancino (crisp outside, creamy within) surrounded by a silky-smooth wild garlic and pea soup, the flavour of both ingredients skilfully balanced. Main courses are equally accomplished, a serving of succulent cured salmon, say, on crushed Jersey Royals, the whole dish elevated by a boldly flavoured fish broth and a modest sprig of purple sprouting broccoli in peak condition. After that, rhubarb pavlova makes a refreshing finale, with its light chewy meringue and delicately cooked cubes of rhubarb topped with blood-orange sorbet. Service attracts special comment from readers (‘exemplary’; ‘superb’; ‘fantastic and attentive without being overbearing’), and we found the knowledge, enthusiasm and expertise hard to fault. Second helpings of the first-rate spongy sourdough bread, served with whipped butter and a little pot of moreish black olive ‘houmous’ were provided without charge, once our appreciation had been noted. A studious, young sommelier takes his duties seriously, and the wide-ranging list is full of classy offerings – even a glass of entry-level Viognier comes bursting with juicy fruitiness. Cocktails, served in the front bar or out on the terrace, are yet another forte at this impressive set-up.

The candyfloss-pink frontage and walls crowded with maritime pictures announce one of Whitstable's most cherishable assets, a seafood haven since the mid-Victorian era, still serving sparkling-fresh fish and shellfish from the local boats to a discerning clientele. A roaring takeaway trade might send you off with a prawn and crab tartlet to treasure. Otherwise, the venue offers everything from daytime sustenance to a eight-course tasting menu on Friday and Saturday evenings. Mark Stubbs embraces a dazzling range of culinary styles, turning his hand to anything from chargrilled scallops with buttered Kentish asparagus, polonaise crumble and crab mimosa to sticky Korean prawns with kachumber salad and gochujang sauce. And that's just for starters. The choice of mains also covers a lot of ground: roast sea bass with spring-green colcannon, fermented wild garlic stalks and a tartare sauce flecked with coastal herbs; pistachio- and citrus-crusted halibut with scallop and horseradish velouté; crispy-fried buttermilk monkfish with red cabbage coleslaw, griddled sweetcorn kerrnels and BBQ sauce. The lightest option for dessert could be a raspberry soufflé with raspberry-ripple ice cream. Unlicensed – so nip into the 'Offy' across the road for a bottle of wine or one of the specially selected craft beers.

Newson’s Yard, a new destination for high-end design, is an appropriate location for this remarkably good-looking restaurant from chef Aaron Potter and interior designer Laura Hart. From the gorgeous marble-topped chef’s counter to the marble tiles, light and dark wood furnishings, brick walls, pale blue banquettes and candle-dressed tables to the outdoor seating under the glass atrium, it’s the type of place you don't want to leave.

This is Potter’s first solo project after proving himself an asset at well-heeled neighbourhood dining spots including Trinity and Elystan Street. There's a terrific neighbourhood vibe here too, pepped up by an ‘80s rock and pop soundtrack and engaging, personable service under the judicious eye of Anthony Glaze (also ex-Elystan Street).

The kitchen delivers a wealth of Mediterranean flavours with snacks of fennel salami and Cantabrian anchovy toast preceding starters such as a ravishing stracciatella with violet artichoke, dried apricot and black truffle. Mains prove equally accomplished: grilled Cornish red mullet with softened Grezzina courgettes and salsa verde, or perhaps an earthy surf-and-turf paella of tender rabbit and cuttlefish with a dollop of smooth blood-orange allioli. Baked wild mushroom rice with chanterelles is an enticing veggie option, while crispy ‘holiday’ potatoes are cooked to perfection. Any flaws? There was some heavy-handed seasoning in some dishes, but a dessert of blood orange, almond polenta cake with blood-orange sorbet made for a sweet and satisfying finish.

The all-European wine list deserves commendation too: despite the prime Belgravia postcode, it has plenty of decent bottles below £50. One final tip: any opportunity to head up to the stunning first-floor wine bar should not be missed.

Brought back to life from a state of dereliction in 2017 by Gary Usher's bold, creative ambition – including a crowdfunding campaign and life as a pop-up – handsome 60 Seel Street is now living its best life as Wreck. Like the rest of Usher's family of thriving north-western bistros (Sticky Walnut et al), it's all about excellent ingredients creatively handled and priced so as not to scare the horses – and don't go thinking it's all about fish. The 'bistro menu' (available lunchtimes and early evenings) is a particularly appetising three-course affair, while the main menu is a step up; although the owners describe their food as 'simple', it's true to say that 'simple' is a relative word. Take an honest gazpacho starter, for example, with smoked bacon and toasted nori, plus roast garlic and parsley toasts – this is inventive stuff with flavour at the heart of everything. Salt-baked pineapple and salsa verde are an ideal foil to pig's head croquettes, while mains might bring cod fillet with taramasalata and smoked apple/dill dressing. Truffle and Parmesan chips luxe out a braised featherblade of beef, and there are regular daily specials to look out for as well. Desserts are a populist bunch ranging from strawberry pavlova (with melon and mint sorbet) to an exotic île flottante with rum custard and peanut brittle. There's also some good news for Liverpool's early birds: Wreckfish now serves breakfast at weekends and bank holiday Mondays (9am-11.30am); book a table or just turn up on spec. The wine list opens with house Spanish at £23, and everything is available by the glass; there are also half a dozen bottled beers covering Leeds to Bavaria.