The 32 Best Restaurants in London, As Chosen by Vogue

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Forza Wine and Lasdun

For years a relative wasteland of decent eating options, the Waterloo stretch of South Bank is now home to a double-header of delectable denizens, both in the Brutalist enclaves of the National Theatre. First, Lasdun. Named for Denys, the architect who conceived said enclaves, it’s basically the Marksman-on-Thames, flogging the beloved Hackney gastropub’s beef and barley buns, burnished pies, and brown butter and honey tarts. A bullseye (not least the charitably priced, £38 pre-theatre menu). Then, Forza Wine. Peckham’s second-favorite rooftop watering hole has been transplanted to the theatre’s northwest levels, natty plonk, and great Italian-ish small plates included.

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Mountain

Anglesey-born chef Tomos Parry’s Brat remains – more than half a decade since its opening – one of London’s piping-hot tickets. But he’s superseded himself with Mountain, a Soho classic-in-waiting that also offers flame-licked, ascetic, and wilfully rustic cooking that nods to both the Basque region and northern Wales (with a smattering of Balearic influences). There’s a spider crab omelette. Fresh cheese and raw prawns on toast. The head of a turbot. A new signature of Menorcan-style lobster caldereta (the crustacean long-braised and served in a terracotta pot), and an old one of Brat’s wicked smoked potatoes.

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Lulu’s

Wine shop, provisioners, and sandwich-slinging bolthole by day, bustling cave à manger by night, Lulu’s is the Lilliputian sibling of Llewelyn’s next door (sharing both chef and loo, plus a predilection for stripped-back, seasonal plates). The menu brims with pan-Euro gems—de rigueur gildas and devilled eggs; Cantabrian anchovies with preserved lemon; agnolotti stuffed with Jerusalem artichoke, then dusted with hazelnuts and parmesan—while the wine list offers perfect pours from interesting and unheralded European vignerons as far afield as Poland, Georgia, and Slovenia. Hammer a glass or three while sitting at the window counter, overlooking the cobbled Herne Hill Station concourse.

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Eline

This vaguely industrial wine store and French-ish restaurant in Hoxton is a familial affair. Chef Alex Reynolds and wine expert Maria Viviani met while working at Popham’s bakery; the bottle shop is named after their pooch Kimchi; and Eline herself was Alex’s food-loving French grandmother. So far, so winsome—but what’s zipping across the pass is serious stuff. Cured slivers of lamb and duck; pretty filled pastas; picture-perfect mains like a zhuzhed take on the bistro classic of duck à l’orange, with potato terrine and charred endive (the revival starts here). The natty bottles, meanwhile, are thoughtfully curated and mercifully affordable.

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