The Best Places in the United Kingdom

A seventeenth-century manor house in the Kentish countryside, converted into a hotel with the kind of features that make architects slow down on country drives. The restaurant occupies a modern extension and keeps its focus squarely local, running Kentish produce through flavourful, unfussy dishes. Kent wines make a strong case on the pairing list, and there's a pub in the grounds if you'd rather start with something cold before sitting down.

Murano glass chandeliers hang above mirrored walls inside a stand at Craven Cottage, which is a sentence you don't get to write very often. This brasserie on the Fulham Pier development has a Thames-facing terrace and a menu that runs the full length of the pitch, from simple omelettes to whole butterflied sea bass. The kitchen is most at home with the classics, pie and mash included, and the produce throughout is the kind that does the talking for you.

A 16th-century house on the main square of a small Dorset market town, this is the kind of cozy, unpretentious restaurant that makes shabby-chic feel earned rather than styled. The menu is short, Mediterranean-leaning, and moves with the seasons. Cooking is confident without being showy, letting good regional produce do most of the talking. Their homewares shop, Brassica Mercantile, sits directly across the road, if you leave wanting to take the vibe home.

A long counter wraps around an open kitchen where chefs work the grills in full view, which sets the tone for this small, convivial restaurant on Great Western Road. The menu leans into Scotland's larder, from coastal shellfish to foraged things, with natural wines to keep it loose. The terrace is a bonus when Glasgow remembers it has weather.

Army mess clubs of colonial India set the theme at this big, boisterous Indian restaurant spread across the ground floor of the Bloomberg building. Live fire does most of the work, with the menu leaning on barbecue and street food dishes. Several screens show sport, keeping the noise level at a pitch that makes conversation an act of commitment. A solid lineup of beers and whiskies helps with that.

A restored Victorian lido sits just outside the windows, which fold back completely in good weather and make it hard to remember you're in Bristol. The restaurant runs across a former viewing gallery upstairs, with small plates and Mediterranean cooking that leans on whatever's genuinely good, crab tagliatelle with lobster butter being a recurring argument for that approach. Poolside bar snacks are available if you'd rather eat in a swimsuit.

Bryn Williams's beachside brasserie sits right on the Colwyn Bay promenade, with the sea filling the windows and blue leather banquettes running the length of the room. The vibe is faux-industrial but easy, the kind of place where a relaxed lunch can stretch without anyone minding. The menu leans into local seafood, kept simple enough that the fish itself does the work. Busy enough to feel like somewhere people actually want to be.

Floor-to-ceiling windows frame the Clwydian Range while you eat, which is a better view than most theatre intervals offer. This modern British brasserie on the first floor of Theatr Clwyd leans hard on Welsh produce, including the chef's own pedigree Welsh Black beef, which shows up in more than one form on the menu. The room is warm, the service runs smoothly, and the prices won't require a second look.

The green-tiled bar is a nod to East London's pub tradition, which feels about right for a vegetarian Middle Eastern spot that treats a plate of oyster mushroom skewers with the same seriousness your local gives a pint. Sharing plates fill the table: dips, flatbreads, falafel, latkes, all of it lifted by careful spicing. The Spitalfields original is compact and rustic, and dinner hands the menu decisions to the kitchen entirely.

Two master sommeliers own this French bistro de luxe in the City, which explains why the Burgundy list reads like someone actually cared. The distressed walls and rustic charm set the tone for classic Gallic cooking, the kind where pâté-en-croûte appears without irony. Seasonal Mediterranean notes drift in, but the kitchen stays rooted in France, with confident technique and good produce doing the heavy lifting.

Wood panelling, simple tables, and a menu built around pommes anna and crème brûlée: Café Bohème wears its French bistro look without irony. Tucked down a city centre side street in Aberdeen, it's the kind of place where the classics are taken seriously but the kitchen doesn't stop there, folding in enough modern technique to keep things from feeling like a museum piece. The team runs it with evident warmth.

A chalkboard of daily specials and a menu that shifts with the seasons give this small Fitzrovia bistro its rhythm. It sits just around the corner from the British Museum, which brings in a mixed crowd, though the room feels more neighbourhood than tourist trap. The cooking is unfussy British contemporary, the service friendly without being performative, and the whole thing moves at the unhurried pace of somewhere that knows exactly what it wants to be.

A dish called the Whoopsy Splunker tells you everything about the mood here. Paul Ainsworth's Italian brasserie in Padstow keeps things loose and lively, with pizzas and pastas doing the heavy lifting alongside the odd Cornish-Mediterranean crossover, like cod dropped into a pancetta and chorizo Tuscan bean stew. The glass-enclosed terrace fills with sunburned holidaymakers happy to be somewhere this relaxed.

The sign outside reads "fire, wine, vinyl," which turns out to be a complete sentence. This Golborne Road restaurant runs on sharing plates kissed by open flame, cocktails worth a second look, and a basement DJ spinning from an actual album library most nights. The food leans classically European with enough confidence to feel effortless. Come with people you like; the room is intimate enough that solo dining would feel like a conversation you forgot to have.

The wine list at this Belgravia Italian restaurant runs deep for a reason: the Antinori family have been growing grapes in Tuscany since before anyone was keeping track. The cooking leans classic, hearty, and Tuscan, the kind of food that makes sense alongside a serious red. The chocolate fondant in a crisp pastry case has a following of its own. A Selected Restaurant in the Michelin Guide.

Canton Blue has its own street entrance on the side of the Peninsula, which is the hotel's way of signaling that this Cantonese restaurant takes itself seriously. The dining room is the sumptuous kind that rewards dressing up, and the menu runs from dim sum to Peking duck for two. The cocktail bar, Little Blue, gives you somewhere elegant to begin while you decide whether to order both.

Candlelit and close, this moody little set-menu restaurant sits in Stockbridge, the Edinburgh neighbourhood that has quietly become the city's most interesting place to eat. The cooking takes a modern approach to Scottish land and sea, with a fondness for preservation techniques and the occasional creative detour. Natural and low-intervention wines fill out the list, which feels like a considered choice rather than a trend the team discovered last Tuesday.

Pewter tankards hang from the beamed ceiling, open fires flicker in the corners, and nobody seems in any hurry to leave. This West Hoathly village pub has been around forever and still feels like it belongs to the locals rather than the tourist trail. The kitchen sticks to hearty pub classics, the kind of cooking where a steak and ale pie with triple-cooked chips is exactly the right answer. Four bedrooms upstairs if you'd rather not drive home.

A basement cocktail bar feeds into a bright ground-floor Mexican restaurant in Marylebone, where the open kitchen keeps things lively and the menu runs from hamachi tostadas to a tight lineup of tacos and big sharing platters built for a group. Brunch pulls in a mezcal-and-margaritas crowd that seems happily unbothered by the time of day. The Michelin Guide has it on their list.

A converted barn on the Wiston Estate winery, all oak beams and brick, where the soil type itself gives the place its name. Chalk is a smart, seasonal restaurant where the short menu changes with what's growing and the obvious move is pairing it with one of the estate's own sparkling wines. The cooking is clean and unfussy, letting combinations do the work. A good place to eat well without anyone making it complicated.

The chef spent years running a restaurant in Tel Aviv's Jaffa Market, and that sensibility travels: Chapel Market Kitchen is a cosy neighbourhood grill and oyster bar on Islington's street-market strip, where produce from the stalls outside ends up on the menu. Expect raw bar, homemade pasta, and cuts from the grill, all on the same unpretentious list. The wine selection is unexpectedly deep for a room this small, with plenty by the glass.

A 1930s building in Locksbottom, with just enough period detail in the interior to feel considered rather than costumed, sets the scene for this neighborhood modern European restaurant. The Mibrasa grill does real work here, lending some smoke and char to prime British produce. Regulars clearly know the menu by heart, and the service team are the kind who notice when your glass is nearly empty.

The animal-adorned wallpaper is a nod to Rudyard Kipling, who allegedly wrote The Jungle Book while staying at Brown's Hotel. It's a handsome, traditional hotel dining room: wood panelling, deep armchairs, and enough colour to stop it feeling stuffy. The menu leans Modern British with a Mediterranean drift, so the homemade pasta earns its place alongside the roasts. The kind of room that makes you feel you should be wearing a jacket, and you probably should.

One of the bookshelves swings open to reveal a hidden bar, which tells you something about how seriously Aldwark Manor takes dinner. This country-house restaurant runs modern tasting menus with enough attention to detail that even the mirrors are rigged with camera feeds into the kitchen. Bold fabrics, sweeping lawn views, and a room that rewards looking closely make it worth arriving before dark.

A model Spitfire hangs from the ceiling and Union Jacks line the curtains, so nobody's leaving confused about the theme. This is a polished modern British restaurant in a half-timbered Knowle building, running fixed-price and tasting menus built around prime British produce. The adjoining Warren's Bar does small plates if you'd rather keep things lighter, which is a genuinely useful option when the tasting menu commitment feels like a lot on a Tuesday.

The thatched roof and honey-stone exterior read as a classic English village pub, but the interior has gone a different direction, all smart lounge seating and glitzy finishes that ease into a linen-laid dining room. The cooking is Modern British rooted in time-honoured recipes, and the chef's experience shows in food that earns its place on proper tablecloths. A Michelin Selected restaurant tucked into the Cambridgeshire countryside, which is its own quiet kind of joke.

A handsome Georgian building down a narrow lane in the city centre, with a cocktail bar at street level and a full restaurant upstairs. The menu roams freely from bruschetta to quesadillas, with a Sunday roast to keep things grounded, and the room is as colourful as the cooking. Wednesdays bring half-price corkage on your own bottle, which the regulars have clearly noticed.

Buckingham Palace is a short walk away, and Chutney Mary dresses for the neighborhood without going stiff about it. This long-standing Indian restaurant in St James's comes from the same group as Veeraswamy and Amaya, and the room is the most stylish of the three. The menu runs mostly to northern Indian cooking, with dishes that have been quietly updated over time without losing their bearings. Smart but relaxed, the kind of place that handles a business lunch and a date equally well.

A glass-enclosed terrace on the fifth floor of the Royal Opera House, with Covent Garden rooftops stretching out below, is as good a reason to book as the Italian menu. Angela Hartnett runs the kitchen here, and the cooking lands in the unfussy, flavour-forward register she's known for. The lunch menu is priced for a weekday habit, not a special occasion. Black tie optional, opera tickets not required.

An old building on Totnes High Street that has been, among other things, a cobbler's and a mayoral theatre, now doing its most convivial turn yet as a sharing-plates restaurant with a bistro hum. The menu leans on open-flame cooking and fermented flavors, and the owners are the kind who actually check that you're having a good time, which turns out to be a fairly reliable indicator that you are.

The high ceilings and tall windows of a converted St James's bank give this Mediterranean restaurant a rare sense of light for a London room. A long bar counter wraps around the semi-open kitchen, where the team is chatty and happy to steer you through a menu that drifts from the Med into North Africa and on toward Asia without ever losing the plot. The crowd tends toward the kind of people who work nearby and know how to order.

A Greek restaurant tucked below luxury apartments on Chiltern Street, where the room goes for faux-rustic warmth and pulls it off with enough Hellenic detail to feel considered rather than costumed. The menu swings between traditional and modern, with dishes like a deconstructed prawn saganaki alongside suckling pig. The wine list leans heavily Greek, which is either a selling point or a gentle education depending on where you're starting from.

The conservatory's retractable roof opens on warm evenings to something genuinely close to a garden, which is an unusual trick for a French restaurant tucked into Covent Garden. Candlelight, trailing indoor plants, and soft lighting do the rest. The cooking is seasonal and French-leaning, and the wine list runs deep. The pre-theatre menu draws the Covent Garden crowd; the conservatory tables, predictably, go first.

A narrow lane off Smithfield Market leads to a period townhouse that John Betjeman once called home, now a snug, convivial restaurant run jointly by a chef and two wine merchants, which tells you something about where the priorities lie. The cooking is pared-back and ingredient-led, the kind that trusts good produce to do the talking. The wine list is long and genuinely interesting, as you'd expect when the people pouring it sell the stuff for a living.

A Murano chandelier and a mounted stag preside over this hotel dining room inside The Fife Arms, where the tartan-clad staff match the cubist painted walls in a way that shouldn't work but does. The kitchen leans classical, pulling prime Scottish lobster and venison through wood-fire techniques that fill the room with a low, smoky warmth. In winter, the fire glows and the whole thing feels like Balmoral if Balmoral had better taste.

The team behind Carousel, where the chef changes every week, decided they wanted something a little more permanent and turned their wine bar into this Mexican restaurant on Charlotte Street. Windows open onto the pavement when the weather cooperates. The menu is short and grill-focused, built around crudos, small plates, and a few larger cuts to share, with an ex-dairy Lake District sirloin cured in-house for sixty days doing a lot of the heavy lifting.

A working farm in Cornwall where the kitchen cures, pickles, and grills over a central wood fire using animals raised on the same 66 acres outside the window. The dining room leans into it: animal skins on the chairs, antique cutlery, handmade pottery. The sourdough alone justifies the drive out here. A young team runs the floor without fuss, and there are rooms if you'd rather not navigate country lanes in the dark.

Old coaching inn beams meet clean, contemporary plating at this boutique restaurant-with-rooms in a quietly pretty Perthshire village. The kitchen leans on Scottish seasonal produce, so the menu shifts with what's good rather than what looks impressive on paper. The cosy bar keeps a respectable single malt selection, which makes lingering after dinner feel less like an indulgence and more like common sense.

Named after a Victorian courtesan, which sets the tone nicely, this contemporary British restaurant occupies a handsome Covent Garden townhouse a short walk from the Royal Opera House. The room has a cosy, bistro warmth that manages to feel both lively and unhurried. The menu keeps things short and seasonal, letting British produce do the heavy lifting without fuss. The chips, apparently, are a thing.

Leather banquettes, dimmed lighting, and a Mayfair address that wears its postcode without apology set the tone for this clubby fine dining room. The kitchen leans into classical French technique, pommes Anna and vin jaune sauces sitting comfortably alongside a royal seafood cocktail that feels pleasingly, unironically retro. Dickies Bar handles pre-dinner drinks for anyone who wants to ease in slowly, which is the right instinct here.

The panelled dining room at this Cotswolds country house hotel keeps its original bones but layers in enough modern touches that it doesn't feel like eating inside a heritage listing. The kitchen leans Mediterranean while shopping British, and the madeleines come warm from the oven at dessert, which is the kind of small thing that lingers. A drink in the sleek bar first is the right move.

A converted pub on the St Monans harbour front, where most tables look straight out over the water and a small terrace catches the summer light off the Firth of Forth. The cooking is modern and composed, the kind that leans on whatever the East Neuk coastline drops off nearby. A fixed-price lunch menu and an evening tasting menu keep things focused, which suits the room's quiet, unhurried pace just fine.

A converted quayside warehouse in Falmouth where the open kitchen takes the center of the room and every dish on the set menu is named after a local farmer or place that inspired it. The chef grew up in Cape Town, so a South African note turns up occasionally among the foraged and hyper-local Cornish ingredients. The pared-back interior feels elemental rather than austere, and the glass-walled wine cellar is worth a look.

A Kickstarter-funded modern British bistro on Harborne High Street, small enough that the lively soundtrack fills every corner. The menu chases the seasons hard and keeps things unfussy, which turns out to be exactly the right instinct. Rhubarb frozen with peanut brittle and vanilla ice cream is the kind of dessert that reminds you restraint is its own technique. The room hums with the particular contentment of people who found somewhere good in their own neighborhood.

Pots, pans, and chairs hang from the ceiling of this Italian restaurant tucked inside the Art Farm complex at Durslade Farm, which makes it sound chaotic but somehow lands as the chicest country kitchen you've ever eaten in. Wood-fired smoke hits you at the door, the pasta is hand-cut, and the cooking runs hearty and unfussy. Somerset with an Italian accent, essentially, and it works without trying to explain itself.

A small, intimate tasting menu restaurant in a quiet Oxton village, named after the chef's daughter, which tells you something about the scale of personal investment here. Tony Parkin runs the kitchen largely solo and brings dishes to the table himself, so the food and the person making it are rarely more than a few steps apart. The menu leans modern with a pull toward Asian flavors, moving between Thai-inflected broths and yuzu desserts without feeling like a passport stamp collection.

Asma Khan, a genuine celebrity in her own right after her Netflix "Chef's Table" moment, runs this bright Indian restaurant in Soho where the kitchen is entirely staffed by women. The cooking draws on Mughal heritage and Kolkata street food, and the spicing is precise rather than theatrical. Khan herself is usually on the floor, chatting tables, which gives the whole room a warmth that most Soho restaurants spend years trying to fake.

The Cotswolds mothership of the now-ubiquitous Daylesford café chain, this is where you walk through the farm shop to reach your table. Choose your room: the Legbar for charcuterie, the Old Spot for wood-roasted pizzas, or the Trough Café for something more sit-down. Everything is organic and much of it comes from the farm outside, which makes the salads, quietly the star of the menu, taste like they have something to prove.

The chef's counter sits right next to the old banking vault, which is either a design quirk or a very pointed comment on where the real value lies. This Modern British restaurant in Chapel-en-le-Frith runs an ambitious tasting menu alongside a looser lunch of fish pie and grilled pork chop, and the range suits the room. A pair of apartments upstairs means you can eat yourself horizontal and sleep it off.

Murano glass and silk wall hangings pull the eye around a basement dining room that earns its keep without a single window. This is an Italian restaurant inside Broadwick Soho, named for the founder's mother, which gives the whole place a personal warmth the decor backs up. The kitchen leans on good ingredients and keeps things pretty on the plate. Couples on date night fill most of the tables, and the room obliges them completely.

Panelled walls, green leather banquettes, and marble floors set the mood at this grand all-day European café near the West End, modelled on the great café-restaurants of Vienna and Paris. Breakfast runs to eggs every way; dinner leans into schnitzels and sausages. The pre-theatre menu draws the Covent Garden crowd before curtain, and occasional evenings pair dinner with interviews from stars of stage and screen.

Counter seats and high-topped tables fill a converted cloth shop on the High Street, where the menu reads like a tour of north Wales without the car journey. This relaxed sharing-plates restaurant leans hard into Welsh produce, from Menai oysters to mutton belly sourced just up the road. Order à la carte or hand the decision to the kitchen entirely, which is an option more places should offer.

A bakery by day and a neighbourhood restaurant by night, Don't Tell Dad takes its name from a sibling tradition the owner would rather not elaborate on. The room has a vintage feel that suits Queen's Park well, and the menu runs from truffle and cheddar beignets through to sharing cuts of beef with bone marrow butter, closing with freshly baked madeleines. The kind of place that makes you wish you lived two streets away.

Jackson Boxer's Notting Hill neighbourhood restaurant fits the postcode without trying too hard: bright room, relaxed pace, simple decoration. The menu is built for sharing and shifts with the seasons, running from snacks up to whole grilled fish and half a roasted chicken. Nearly everything on the wine list is available by the glass, which makes the room easier to linger in than it probably should be.

The Knickerbocker Glory you build yourself is either the cheekiest move on any Mayfair menu or the most honest one, depending on your mood. Dovetale is a full-service restaurant inside 1 Hotel Mayfair, all natural materials and trailing greenery, with a terrace that earns its keep in summer. The food looks to Europe for its bearings, leaning into sharing plates and the kind of cooking that lets good ingredients carry the argument.

A pub sitting at the end of a quiet lane in the Lake District fells, the Drunken Duck pours ales brewed on the property to wash down a kitchen that takes the gastropub brief seriously, running to venison loin and hazelnut-stuffed celeriac alongside the bar buzz. The crowd runs to walkers who had every intention of just stopping for a pint. Boutique rooms with fell-view terraces are available for anyone who finds that plan unraveling.

The vinyl collection by the front door survived the handover intact, which tells you something about the priorities here. Duchy is a relaxed Shoreditch restaurant where two Leroy alumni cook around the old Savoy duchy, that sprawling medieval territory straddling southwest France and northwest Italy. British ingredients do most of the work, plates are meant to be shared, and the menu moves at a pace that rewards ordering slowly.

A wine bar downstairs, a seafood restaurant upstairs, and Scottish waters doing most of the heavy lifting on the menu. Shetland mussels and Skye langoustines anchor things, though the kitchen isn't above pulling in Jamaican jerk spice or harissa butter when the mood strikes. The West End crowd tends to start with a glass from the international list and somehow never quite makes it to the stairs.

A fire-roaring, eclectically decorated Yorkshire pub that's been around forever in a genuinely sleepy hamlet outside Crayke. The menu runs long and leans British, with hearty, unfussy cooking that changes with the seasons. In summer the courtyard earns its keep; in winter the bar stools near the hearth go fast. Cosy rooms upstairs mean you can order another round without doing the maths on the drive home.

Six tables in a narrow shopfront on Great Junction Street, easy to walk past and painful to have missed. Dùthchas is a set-menu dinner spot where the chefs come out to talk you through each course themselves, which sounds precious but lands warmly. The cooking is seasonal and quietly inventive, and the wine pairing leans into obscure bottles rather than safe names, which is half the fun.

Brightly colored chairs against whitewashed brick, shelves stuffed with cookbooks, and an open kitchen keeping the whole room buzzing. This relaxed Modern British restaurant on the Cornish coast is a family operation: Nigel cooks, Kelly runs the floor, and their daughter Edie lends the place its name. The food is unfussy but clearly well-practiced, built on flavor combinations that actually make sense together rather than showing off.

A stone lodge on the Isle of Skye that has been around forever, Edinbane Lodge serves a multi-course tasting menu built almost entirely on what the island and the Highlands produce. The chef grew up here, which shows in the specificity: local crockery, local suppliers, dishes that feel considered rather than composed. Bedrooms upstairs mean you don't have to negotiate the single-track road home in the dark.

The Swiss pine paneling makes this compact Notting Hill sushi bar feel uncannily like a ski chalet, which is either disorienting or charming depending on your mood. Two six-person counters run the room, one facing the kitchen, one facing the street. Order nigiri by the piece or let the chef decide. The seafood is the point, including tuna brought in from Spain, and the wine list skews toward bottles priced for people who don't ask about bottles.

To get here, you drive through the working organic farm that grows much of what ends up on your plate, which sets the tone nicely. Eight is a modern British restaurant with bright, colourful interiors that feel deliberately cheerful against the Lancashire fields and Pendle Hill beyond the windows. The home-reared beef is the throughline, and the Sunday roast draws accordingly. Farm-to-fork as a concept rarely comes with this much literal farm.

Niklas Ekstedt built his name cooking entirely over fire in Stockholm, and the London outpost inside the Great Scotland Yard Hotel carries the same conviction. The dining room leans designer-rustic, and the menu runs on wood-fired and ember-grilled techniques, with pickled and fermented notes pulling things decidedly Nordic. You can go à la carte or tasting menu, though the Chef's Table exists for nights when someone else is paying.

A converted watermill outside Norwich, elda seats just 14 diners for a tasting menu that the chefs deliver and explain themselves, course by course. It has the pull of a dinner party where someone genuinely knows how to cook, with dishes built around careful saucing and good sourcing. The kind of place where the room is small enough that you'll hear everything your neighbours order, which turns out to be fine.

The English muffin with miso honey butter arrives early and sets the tone for this relaxed neighbourhood bistro from the team behind The Little Chartroom. The menu wanders cheerfully between Gallic classics and British comfort, landing somewhere that feels less like a concept and more like somewhere you'd actually want to be on a Tuesday. Service is warm without being studied, which in Edinburgh counts for quite a lot.

Royal blue velvet and dark wood set the tone at this polished neighbourhood restaurant in one of Glasgow's more prosperous suburbs, where the room announces its intentions before the menu arrives. The kitchen runs classical technique through top-quality Scottish produce with occasional international detours. Wine gets its own display case, a subtle signal that the list has been thought about properly.

The team behind The Gannet opened this friendly bistro in the same Finnieston spot, which is either a tribute to the neighbourhood or extremely efficient use of a lease. The menu moves from bar snacks and lightly glazed milk bread through to cockles and chalked-up specials, and they'd clearly prefer you started with a martini or, given where you are, a Rob Roy. The Michelin Guide has it selected.

A light-wood counter and white surfaces give this Pontcanna neighbourhood restaurant a brightness that suits the cooking, which looks quiet on the plate but hits harder in the mouth. The menu leans on seasonal British ingredients with a real Italian thread running through it, daily focaccia included. The kind of place where the room feels relaxed and the food has a point of view, which is a harder combination to pull off than it sounds.

A cake trolley doing the rounds in a room of Georgian plasterwork and an open kitchen sets up exactly the right amount of contradiction. This is a brasserie inside the Francis Hotel that runs on seasonal British produce with a Mediterranean lean, sourcing its catch from a Cornish market. The menu moves with the seasons, and the counter seats put you close enough to watch the kitchen work through whatever they landed that day.

A Victorian inn sitting at the heart of its own working farm, which means the kitchen doesn't have far to look for ingredients. Expect the kind of pub food that earns its place: day-boat fish, a daily pie, proper Sunday roasts, and steaks from animals that were practically neighbours. The fire-lit lounge and eleven bedrooms make it a sensible base for walking Exmoor without having to think too hard about where to eat afterwards.

A single communal table under a Glasgow railway arch, close enough to the open kitchen that the chef can tell you exactly where dinner came from. Trains rumble overhead while the menu pivots around whatever Scottish produce is worth talking about that week. The room holds a small group, which means the cooking is almost conversational. Seasonal modern Scottish, with a wine flight if you want someone else to do the thinking.

Perched on the cliffside above Housel Bay, this modern tasting menu restaurant names its courses things like "A Parisian Verse" and "As Two Roads Cross," which either charms or baffles depending on your disposition. The cooking is detailed and creative, the wine pairings are fairly priced for this kind of format, and the open kitchen keeps things lively. A window table with those bay views makes the whole cryptic-menu gambit feel like an easy trade.