The Best Places in the United Kingdom

Fish crackling lands first, a snack that functions as a mission statement for the meal ahead. Raymond's is a sharing-plates spot in Nottingham's Lace Market, the kind of room with counter seats, moody lighting, and a wine list heavy on by-the-glass options, as if someone sat down and ticked every box on the modern restaurant checklist. The crowd seems entirely unbothered by that, and honestly, so will you.

Named after the owner's childhood dog, this narrow little Modern British restaurant in Heaton runs a set menu in two lengths, built around seasonal cooking that leans into overlooked cuts and ingredients. The room has a quirky, corridor-like shape, family artwork on the walls, and rustic wooden tables. The wine list pulls in organic and biodynamic bottles, and the pairings are worth the commitment. Service is the kind that makes a small room feel like the right size.

A thatched Wiltshire pub sitting on the edge of Salisbury Plain, decorated with the kind of collected-over-decades clutter that no interior designer could fake. The kitchen is classically trained and takes its sourcing seriously, sending out generously flavoured dishes that feel grounded rather than showy. Rooms with private terraces overlook the river, which makes the argument for staying over so you can explore the countryside at a pace that isn't frantic.

The terrace runs the full length of the hotel, which means almost every seat at this waterfront restaurant in St Mawes looks straight out over the bay. Reef Knot keeps things bright and unfussy, and the kitchen leans hard into Cornish seafood, rock oysters and roasted skate wing among them. The "Mum's Bouillabaisse" is borrowed from the chef's mother, which is either charming or a lot of pressure, depending on how you look at it.

A flint-clad kiln, uncovered during renovation, anchors the dining room of this former warehouse on the Norfolk Broads. The set-menu restaurant works through seasonal produce from local artisans and the chef's own garden, with mushrooms grown on site, all filtered through a quiet Japanese sensibility. Sourdough starts things off before the menu finds its footing somewhere between Norfolk and somewhere rather further east.

Period details fill a former auction house in a quiet Lincolnshire market town, and the room feels like it earned its character rather than hired an interior designer. The Modern British menu runs from snacks and small plates up to a full tasting menu, so you can calibrate to your appetite. The kitchen leans on genuine technique without making a fuss about it, and the focaccia alone tends to start conversations at neighboring tables.

Shelves of house-made jams, pickles, and preserves line the wood-clad interior, and in winter some of them find their way onto the plate. Restaurant DOM is a smart modern dining room in central Scunthorpe where the chef's Polish heritage shapes the menu in ways that feel personal rather than performative, grandmother's sauerkraut recipe included. Bedrooms are coming, but the kitchen is already the reason to make the trip.

Vinyl on the turntable, retro furniture, shelves of books, and local Sheffield honey available by the jar on the way out. By day it's a coffee shop; come evening, candles appear and the room quietly becomes a set-menu restaurant serving British food that ranges from straightforwardly lovely to genuinely intricate. The kind of neighbourhood spot that doesn't need to announce itself.

A small modern British restaurant in Urmston where three young owners run a tight, Nordic-feeling room, all clean lines and an open kitchen you can watch from your seat. The menus cover tasting options, à la carte, and a Sunday roast, with British produce doing most of the heavy lifting. A British wine flight is available for those who like their theme fully committed.

The name means "six" in Japanese, the address is number six, and the tasting menu runs six courses that change every six weeks. Restaurant Roku is a small modern Japanese dinner spot in Croyde, where the chef weaves Japanese flavors through a European framework, think tuna crudo with togarashi or shiso turning up in the pre-dessert. A three-course à la carte exists, but the tasting menu is clearly where the kitchen's attention lives.

The barn has been standing since the Tudor era, and the kitchen makes that feel like an asset rather than a quirk. This modern British restaurant sits on the Netherwood Estate, and the garden walk beforehand is worth doing: much of what grows there shows up on the plate. Occasional East Asian touches keep things from going too pastoral. There are rooms across the courtyard if the drive home feels like a problem.

A converted barn tucked behind the shop and tasting room at Sandridge Barton wines, with a terrace running alongside a stream and lunch the only meal on offer. The daily menu moves with the seasons, pulling fish from Brixham and wild ceps from Dartmoor, and the cooking keeps enough out of the way that the ingredients make their own case. Order a glass of the estate's own wine while you're at it.

A brasserie on the banks of the River Ness, bright and colourful in a way that feels cheerful rather than trying too hard. The menu runs wide, leaning on Scottish produce while pulling in influences from further afield, so the kitchen might pair Shetland monkfish with a Milanese risotto without losing the thread. A natural stop on the North Coast 500, and the kind of room that handles a full house without the seams showing.

A wrap-around terrace overlooking South Dock is reason enough to find your table, but this sprawling Modern British restaurant in Canary Wharf seats 500 people across several dining rooms and somehow doesn't feel like a canteen. From the team behind Fallow, the menu leans into playful riffs on British classics, the kind of place where parsley liquor shows up next to market fish and nobody thinks that's odd.

Bright prints against exposed concrete, mix-and-match wooden tables, and a menu that changes daily: this informal Modern British restaurant on Hackney Road is what happens when two friends graduate from pop-ups with their instincts intact. The cooking is overtly seasonal and full of considered combinations, the kind of food that makes you notice what's on the plate. Service is relaxed and genuinely warm without being performative about it.

Inside The Beaumont's art deco bones, Rosi is a calm, pastel-toned dining room whose friezes by Luke Edward Hall give it more personality than most hotel restaurants dare. The menu reads like a love letter to British classics, calf's liver, cottage pie, a proper steak, finished with a build-your-own sundae that keeps things from getting too reverent. Sunday roasts take over on weekends, as nature intended.

Alain Roux, whose Waterside Inn up the road has held three Michelin stars for decades, runs this contemporary French brasserie right on the Thames at Taplow. The menu runs to classic bistro territory with European touches, and a fruits de mer platter sometimes appears on the blackboard as if to remind you the river is right there. Arrive early enough to take a drink on the terrace before the tables fill.

The dining room at this Lakeland country house hotel pairs original cornicing and shutters with bold William Morris wallpaper, a combination that somehow works. Rowan serves a short, seasonal modern British menu where the kitchen leans toward bright, clean flavors, fish dishes especially. The Lake District pulls crowds regardless, so a table here feels like a reasonable reward for surviving the car parks of Ambleside.

A period house overlooking the Solent, with a garden terrace that earns its keep in summer. This is a relaxed bistro from a well-known Isle of Wight chef, and the menu casts a wide net: pies, burgers, pasta, steaks. Nothing on the list sounds ambitious, which is almost the point, because the kitchen brings enough craft to the familiar stuff that it lands harder than you'd expect. Service is friendly without making a production of it.

A converted salt house in Sidford that's been feeding people long enough to earn the word "institution" without embarrassment. The dining room splits between the Abbots Den and the Garden Room, and the menu moves from small plates into straightforward, classically grounded mains. Afternoon tea is on if you're passing through, and a handful of bedrooms means you can stay and properly explore Devon rather than just driving back in the dark.

A coaching inn that's been around forever, with a glass-covered courtyard that makes a sunny afternoon feel like a good idea. Inside, the dining room runs modern and unfussy, with a seasonal à la carte and tasting menu that lean into colourful, well-composed plates. The attached deli and wet fish shop give you something to carry home, which softens the blow of leaving considerably.

A riverside brasserie beside Hammersmith Bridge, with a menu that leans British but doesn't make a religion of it. The kitchen works quality produce from land and sea with real care, and a dedicated section for oysters and shellfish gives the whole thing a slightly coastal lean. On your way out, Sam's Larder sells provisions, which is either very convenient or dangerous depending on your level of self-control.

A 12-seat chef's counter so clandestine that the address only arrives 24 hours before you eat and a sign goes up outside just 20 minutes before service. Caroline Martins runs a Brazilian tasting menu here, greeting guests with real warmth and a parade of dishes built around the flavors she grew up with. Wear something you feel good in; the room is intimate enough that you'll be part of the performance whether you planned on it or not.

A stone pub in a pretty market town where three low-ceilinged dining rooms go by "snugs," which turns out to be exactly right. The menu leans into the Dales, with lamb and other local ingredients shifting by season, and the kitchen's approach is confident and unfussy rather than showy. Two country-chic bedrooms upstairs mean you can commit to a second round without worrying about the drive home.

Sixteen covers in a snug Lyme Regis dining room, with a chef who grew up here and cooked his way back. The menu is Modern British with flashes of Italian running through it, unfussy and direct in the way that only confident cooking tends to be. The Michelin Guide has it selected. His partner runs the floor with the ease of someone who enjoys the work, and together they make a small room feel like exactly the right size.

Bright paint, papel picado, and a room loud enough that you'll lean in closer than you planned: this is a Mexican restaurant drawing on time the team spent in Mexico City, Yucatán, and Oaxaca. Tacos, tostadas, and flautas anchor the menu, with regional detours like Oaxacan barbacoa lamb shank earning their keep. The cocktail list is long, the bottomless weekend brunch is the kind of thing people book twice, and nobody here is eating quietly.

A Neapolitan family runs this Italian restaurant out of a substantial Victorian building in an Anstey suburb, the contrast between the ornate exterior and the sleek, mildly glitzy interior being very much part of the charm. The open kitchen pass lets you watch the cooks, which pairs well with the kind of warm, unguarded service that makes a place feel like someone's actually glad you came.

A Japanese restaurant in Moseley where the meal can end with a dessert set on fire at the table, which feels like a reasonable way to close things out. The menu covers a lot of ground, from sushi and sashimi to tempura and robata-grilled cuts, so this is the kind of place where a group with different appetites tends to work well. The room runs busy most nights, which tells you something about how the neighborhood feels about it.

A Palladian country house hotel tucked down one of Painswick's narrow lanes is an unlikely home for a brasserie, yet here we are. Sauce keeps its plates uncluttered, which takes more confidence than it sounds, and the beef Wellington with its deep Madeira reduction is the kitchen making a clear argument for restraint. The kind of room where Cotswolds weekenders feel they've found something, and they're not entirely wrong.

The chandeliers alone make a statement, and the rest of the room follows through without apology. This is a grand hotel dining room in the classic sense, French and British cooking served alongside Dover sole, beef Wellington, and caviar for those in the mood. Celebratory couples fill most of the tables, which suits the tone perfectly. Wear something you'd feel odd spilling on.

Named after the chef's childhood home and meaning "speckled rock," this small, simply furnished sharing-plates restaurant in Portree looks out toward the mountains it's named for. The kitchen leans on whatever the Isle of Skye provides, which turns out to be quite a lot: meat from the hills, seafood from the harbour just below. Service is chatty and warm, the kind that makes a small room feel like someone's front parlour.

Shelves lined with house-made pickles, spice jars, and infused oils run along the room, telegraphing exactly what Ramael Scully is doing here. The chef's own globe-spanning biography, Malaysia, India, China, Australia, lands on the plate in a way that reads coherent rather than restless. A tasting menu or a sharing-style à la carte, both built around punchy, layered flavours you'd struggle to place on any one map.

A hotel dining room perched above the Devon coast, Seacliff earns its keep with a terrace that looks straight out over the bay. The kitchen leans hard on local seafood, turning quality seasonal catch into colorful, composed Modern British plates. Service is the warm, unhurried kind you hope for in a place this size. A tasting menu with wine pairings is there if the occasion calls for it.

The chef cooks at an island kitchen in full view of the room, which sets the tone for a restaurant that keeps nothing behind the curtain. It started as a produce shop, and seasonal ingredients are still the whole point, turning up in clean, colourful modern dishes that taste like someone thought hard about what's good right now. They also do "dine at home" boxes for those who prefer their tasting menu in pajamas.

A former sweet shop with bow windows on the road between Margate and Broadstairs, Sète squeezes a restaurant, wine bar, and bottle shop into one small room without it feeling like a party trick. The kitchen leans on classical French technique but keeps things resolutely British and produce-led, with short menus on a blackboard that change constantly. Nothing is overworked, which takes more discipline than it sounds.

A former mews house in Mayfair, Silva takes its name from the Latin for forest and leans into that with a décor that feels genuinely leafy and calm. It runs breakfast through late night, which is rare for the neighborhood, so you might pull up to the window counter with shakshuka in the morning or settle into the bar with a margarita after dark. The menu has no fixed allegiance, just a quiet insistence on letting ingredients carry the argument.

Rye and sourdough arrive in a basket before anything else, which tells you something about the priorities here. This cosy Notting Hill restaurant channels Ukraine through its menu, from black pudding croquettes to beef dumplings bobbing in spicy broth. The chef's story is extraordinary, but the food doesn't lean on it, it just quietly makes the case. Warm, personal, and a little unexpected for All Saints Road.

Backlit sculptures dot the garden, and on a warm evening an aperitif out there feels faintly like drinking inside a curated countryside fever dream. Inside, a log fire and genuinely eccentric décor keep things cosy when the weather turns. This Modern British restaurant in the Chiltern Hills has been doing its own thing for what feels like forever, the kitchen leaning on good ingredients and punchy flavours, with a wine list someone clearly lost sleep over.

A small Modern British restaurant tucked into a Swansea suburb, run by two chef-owners who apparently greet you themselves, which sets the tone for what follows. The menu shifts with the seasons and leans toward seafood, with an à la carte or a tasting menu if you want the longer ride. Wine pairings are priced to encourage saying yes. The Michelin Guide includes it among its selected restaurants.

The open kitchen drives the energy in this compact Tooting corner restaurant, where the team runs tasting menus built around seasonal British produce with a thread of pickled and preserved things running through. It started as a pop-up and never quite lost that scrappy enthusiasm. Two menu lengths, all available in pescatarian, vegetarian, or vegan form. Keep an eye out for the occasional Burger Nights, which feel like a reward for regulars.

A barn-like room in Burnham Market with a mezzanine, an open kitchen, and a menu of small plates that changes often enough to make repeat visits feel like a different restaurant each time. Socius leans Modern British with a range of global nudges, and the vegetarian options are treated as full members of the lineup rather than afterthoughts. The name means "sharing" in Latin, so bring people you'll actually share with.

Fridges stacked with ageing prime cuts line the walls of this relaxed neighbourhood restaurant inside the Pontcanna Laundry development, so the menu leans heavily into steaks and house-made sausages. The room has faux-industrial bones, the cooking is ingredient-led Modern British, and the profiteroles come finished with a Cointreau chocolate caramel sauce that makes skipping dessert feel unwise.

The name is the concept: 14 lines, 14 courses, each one arriving with a story the chef seems genuinely invested in telling. This intimate modern French tasting-menu restaurant in Alnwick seats just eight tables, run by a couple who treat the room like a dinner party they've been planning for weeks. Classic French technique meets some clever preserved elements throughout, and dinner closes with a little parcel of "Elevenses" sent home for the next morning.

A wine bar and trattoria in the heart of Stockbridge where dropping in for a glass and some olives at the marble-topped communal counter is as legitimate a plan as staying for pasta and fish. The Italian wine list is long and almost exclusively from the boot, with the sommelier owner ready to talk you through it if you're the sort who enjoys being talked through it. Unfussy is the whole point here.

The dining room alone earns its keep: a soaring, light-flooded space in Somerset House's New Wing, once home to the Inland Revenue, which gives the whole enterprise a pleasingly unlikely air. Spring is an Italian-leaning restaurant where the kitchen leans hard on ingredients rather than fuss. The "Scratch" menu, built from what would otherwise be thrown out, is a smart reason to come on a weekday.

A rustic wine bar tucked down one of St Ives's narrow cobbled lanes, well clear of the seafront chaos. The sharing plates lean into whatever's local and coastal, crab crostini and steamed clams among them, and the wine list rewards the kind of slow afternoon where you lose track of time on purpose. It has the easy, unforced warmth of a place that never needed to try too hard.

The bread comes from grains milled on-site, which tells you something about how seriously this hotel dining room takes its Scottish larder. Housed inside a country house at the edge of Loch Ness, the room is done in greens and browns that lean into the setting rather than fight it. The kitchen leans on garden vegetables, foraged mushrooms, and Highland lamb, while the wine list quietly champions English bottles over the usual suspects.

The front half is a cocktail bar with a resident DJ on weekends and a record collection to match; the back half is a cosy bistro where you order off a blackboard of steaks and fish. This Edwardian shop conversion on Church Road captures Brighton's relaxed, slightly bohemian mood without making a big deal about it. Plates come in small and large, the wine list leans natural, and the whole thing moves at a pace that feels like someone actually thought about it.

Part restaurant, part flower shop, because the couple who run it are a chef and a florist and that's just what made sense. Tucked into the City of London, Stem + Stem serves Modern British cooking built around sharp seasonal produce, with bright, colourful plates that occasionally feature an edible bloom or two. The flowers on the tables aren't decor borrowed from somewhere nearby; they're literally grown next door to the menu.

Floor-to-ceiling windows face the River Derwent, and a rear terrace puts you right above the water. This small Modern British restaurant sits at the bottom of a steep flight of steps off Dale Road, the kind of entrance that weeds out the faint-hearted. The kitchen cooks classic combinations with confidence rather than fuss, and the room has that easy warmth you get when the staff seem to like being there as much as the regulars do.

The counter seats overlooking the open grill are the ones to fight for at this bistro in Neal's Yard, a more relaxed offshoot of Restaurant Story. The menu runs to snail bolognese on toast and rotisserie chicken brined in bacon stock, which tells you this is serious cooking dressed down in casual clothes. Bold portions, a lively room, and enough technical confidence to make the whole thing feel effortless.

A bistro on the first floor of a building just off the main drag, with a low-key retro look that matches its no-fuss approach. The kitchen leans on quality local produce and solid technique rather than novelty, running a short à la carte alongside a well-priced midweek set menu and a blackboard of specials. Beef gets top billing, but the fish dishes hold their own. The kind of neighbourhood restaurant a city always needs more of.

Fire is the kitchen's main event at this intimate counter-dining spot on Bridge Street, where a small open kitchen puts the chefs close enough to hear the sizzle. The front bar does cocktails before and after, and the dining room feels like crashing a very good friend's private supper club. Ex-dairy beef gets a lot of attention, but the vegetable dishes hold their own alongside it. Listed in the Michelin Guide.

The chandeliers are made from repurposed wine and cocktail glasses, which tells you something about the room before you've even sat down. Sucre is a Latin American and Mediterranean restaurant set in a former concert hall in Soho, all high ceilings and ornate bones, with an open parrilla doing the heavy lifting on the menu. The team is genuinely charming, the flavors run bold, and the pre-theatre menu makes an evening in the West End feel almost affordable.

The heated terrace of this whitewashed harbourside seafood restaurant has views over Gorey that do most of the selling. The menu leans classic and local, with Jersey ingredients threaded through dishes that have been ordered here long enough to feel like old friends. Dressed crab on focaccia, a fruits de mer platter if you're feeling flush. The kind of place that has been pleasing people for years without feeling the need to apologize for it.

Sune (rhymes with "sooner," which is worth knowing before you ask) feels like a wine bar that quietly decided it wanted to be a neighborhood restaurant when it grew up. Around 14 sharing plates rotate on a fluid menu, built on simple pairings that don't crowd each other out. The room is small, the service is warm, and the kitchen in Hackney is the kind that makes restraint look like a gift.

The chef grew up in Phuket, and the menu reads accordingly: southern Thai cooking, the kind that leans harder on heat and fermented shrimp paste than the tourist-trail dishes most London Thai spots default to. It's a cheerful, colourful room on Caledonian Road that somehow skips the usual temple-screen décor, the staff are genuinely warm, and the house-infused gins keep the atmosphere tilted pleasantly toward festive.

A modern British restaurant perched above the Chapel Down vineyard, with a rooftop terrace that puts the vines directly in frame. The daily menu leans hard into local ingredients, and every dish comes with a suggested wine pairing, which feels less like upselling and more like the whole point. The team is genuinely warm, and the wine list, both still and sparkling, is exactly as long as you'd expect from people who grow the stuff outside.

Nigiri arrives one piece at a time, and the room stays quiet enough that you notice. This is an intimate omakase counter in Merton run by a husband-and-wife team, moving through small otsumami bites before the sushi becomes the whole point. Chutoro, otoro, hamachi, scallop, each one handled with a precision that makes the format feel less like a trend and more like an argument. Sake pairings are on offer if you need convincing.

A chef's table counter upstairs handles special occasions, while the dining room below keeps things rustic and neighbourhood-warm, looking out over Southborough Green. This is the kind of modern British cooking where technique stays out of sight and the flavours do the talking instead. Seasonal desserts lean into unusual pairings without making a fuss about it. Small, personal, and run by a couple who seem to actually enjoy what they do.

A heated terrace with a retractable roof in Mayfair is either genius or a confession about English weather, and either way it works. This is a polished Indian restaurant spread over two floors, where the basement seats you close enough to the tandoor counter to feel useful. The à la carte leans generous and shareable, running from chaat and small plates through curries and biryanis, with tasting menus available for the more committed table.

The tacos here do the talking, which is good because the décor has very little to add. TAQ is a casual Notting Hill cantina where the menu is short and focused: fish tacos, carnitas, tostadas, quesadillas, and churros to close. The cooking is more careful than the stripped-back room lets on, which is either a pleasant surprise or the whole point, depending on how cynical you arrived.

The dining room inside the Grand Jersey Hotel looks out over St Aubin's Bay, which earns its keep as a view. This is fine-dining territory, linen tablecloths and all, built around Jersey produce: blue lobster, wild turbot, local Angus beef. The cooking leans classical but lets itself have a little fun with it. Bespoke wine flights are available if you'd rather someone else do the thinking.

The room looks like a gallery dedicated to Ukrainian ceramics, which is either a bold move or the most accurate possible preview of the food to come. This Shoreditch restaurant serves generous, share-friendly plates rooted in Ukrainian cooking, with a long open kitchen and a covered terrace out back. The pickled cherry tomatoes with lemon yoghurt have become the dish regulars argue over last rights to. A welcome addition to Curtain Road.

A red-brick pub in the Constable Country villages that has been around forever and looks freshly loved, all wooden beams and proper fireplaces. The kitchen keeps things simple on purpose, turning out the kind of food, a bowl of pea and mint soup, boulangère potatoes crisped just so, that reminds you why unfussy cooking is hard to fake. Rooms upstairs if you want to stay and wander the Suffolk lanes.

Bright red chairs against crisp white linen sets the tone at this formal Modern British restaurant, where the room reads like a place that takes dinner seriously without making you feel guilty about enjoying it. The cooking is ambitious and colourful, and the wine list leans deep on reds. Paul Askew also runs guest chef evenings and live music nights, so the calendar is worth a look before you book.

A tasting menu inside a 17th-century country house manor, where the format is a little different: you pick the starter, main, and dessert, but the kitchen controls everything in between. That negotiated structure keeps the cooking intricate without leaving you entirely at the chef's mercy. The 60 acres outside are worth a slow walk before you sit down, which gives you something to do with the anticipation.

A country pub on the edge of Windsor Great Park, where the venison on the menu may well have come from the deer you passed on the way in. The kitchen turns local and seasonal ingredients into properly composed, attractively plated dishes, with a lighter bar menu if you just want a pint and something good. The cheese trolley, stacked with British options, arrives like a small event. Quirky, charming, and a little tucked away down Surrey's winding back roads.

A stone pub in Gorran Churchtown that has been keeping its pine furniture and whitewashed walls looking suspiciously well-maintained. The menu runs from Scotch eggs and sirloin with chips through to more ambitious plates, most of it sourced from the Roseland Peninsula nearby. The room is bigger than the facade suggests, with a proper bar, a dining area, and space upstairs, and the service is the kind that makes you feel like you're not being a bother.

A sandstone inn in a village so picturesque it feels slightly unfair to the rest of Somerset. Inside, old beams and exposed brick sit comfortably alongside more modern touches, and the kitchen's personality comes through in the kind of Modern British cooking that actually earns its rusticity. The team runs the bakery next door, and the sourdough that opens the meal makes the case early. Rooms are available for those who find leaving inconvenient.

The dartboard is still up, and that tells you everything about this Oxfordshire village pub. The team behind The Lamb Inn at Little Milton took over and resisted every temptation to sand away the pubby edges, keeping real ales and a community bar alongside a kitchen that actually cares where its fish comes from. The Michelin Guide has taken notice. Wear what you'd wear to the pub, because that's where you are.