There’s an air of no-nonsense boozer about this pub restaurant, situated within a hydrangea’s throw of Columbia Road (Sunday) flower market. Yet the food served at the bar and in a light-upstairs dining room is right up there with the very best of modern British. Chefs Tom Harris and Jon Rotherham have put a stylish slant on the potted shrimps, devilled mussels, pies and pork chops they cooked when at St. John. Everything is quality, though it’s difficult to avoid beef and barley buns with horseradish cream, and the brown butter and honey custard tart. Excellent Sunday roast — one of the city’s best — too.

Originally only accessible to those who could get to this literal old school dining room in Shoreditch for a weekday lunch, Rochelle now opens for breakfast and lunch every day, and on Thursday to Saturday evenings too. Dishes like braised lamb, mint and peas, mushroom quiche, and strawberry ice cream sound plain, yet they compel loyal diners to return again and again. Simple, classic and joyful — a light touch nose-to-tail.

Top of many people’s list (whether headed “British” or “London in general”) and for good reason. There’s been a chop house on this Farringdon Road site since 1869, and there’s a nod to that heritage in that it’s still possible to choose a simple but outstanding chop or steak to go with *those* confit potatoes. Yet it’s much more, too, with the evening menu and snacks in particular an enticing and innovative representation of British produce, occasionally glittered with other world class ingredients. Some grumble about the upright benches (like church pews) in one half of the restaurant, but really the only legitimate complaint is that it’s practically impossible to choose just three dishes.

Much of what is considered ‘British food’ is derivative of this restaurant. In part that’s because the long list of chefs and front of house staff who’ve worked here, at the Spitalfields outpost Bread & Wine, or in the bakery. But the nose-to-tail ethos, noun-laden blackboards and love of unglamourous items like faggots, Welsh rarebit and dandelion now spreads far beyond Fergus Henderson’s direct protégés. It follows that everyone should pay their respect to the original at least once. Settle-in to the austere white-walled restaurant for a plate of langoustines and mayonnaise, then hare and trotter pie, and perhaps a classic British pud; or take lunch in the cathedral-like bar and bakery area — bone marrow and parsley salad; devilled kidney’s on toast; Eccles cake and Lancashire cheese to finish.

Battered haddock, mushy peas and a pun of a name — what’s more British than that? The chips are the real draw here as they’re fried in beef dripping, assuring both crunch and deep savouriness. Take-away is an option, but it’s better to stay and enjoy an iconic formica and vinyl decor that has been untouched for years. Debatable whether their claim to ‘the tastiest fish and chips in town’ stacks up, but a strong package nonetheless.   

The Rosewood Hotel’s buffed and slick salon-style restaurant has always had a British edge — charcuterie from each corner of this Isle (and not beyond), local meat and fish, a textbook main-course-and-sides offering, and even London’s largest collection of gin. But then executive chef Calum Franklin started experimenting with pastry, and a refreshingly unmodish niche was found. On Wednesdays there’s a superlative beef Wellington, whilst other meat-filled suet puddings and extraordinarily detailed hand-raised pies are rolled out each day. Classy stuff.

Though the menus are ornate, tablecloths starched, seats padded and service proper, there’s no stiff upper lip at Quo Vadis, whether in downstairs restaurant or private club on the floors above (indeed, a notable cocktail menu means things can get quite loose.) Chef Jeremy Lee’s food is always seasonal in both ingredient and mood, and mixes treat with comfort in equal measure. It’s essential to leave room for pudding — few places cover the classics better, and Lee’s fondness for combining the triple threat of cream, ice cream and custard on the same plate is to be applauded. And the chef’s eel sandwich is one of London’s unmissable creations.

An historic City institution with a unique service model, Sweeting’s primarily seafood-based menu is plainer than price point suggests: think oysters, cod’s roe on toast, catch of the day served with minimal fuss (though lobster mash is a side option) and spotted dick for dessert. Regulars tend to wash that down with 1er cru Chablis, or a solid silver tankard filled in equal parts Guinness and champagne (a “Black Velvet”). NB. This is among St. John co-founder Fergus Henderson’s favourite London restaurants, in case another class of recommendation were required.

No experience is more authentically East London than an pre-dawn visit to the café at the city’s wholesale fish market. Order fried scallops and bacon between cheap white bread, and wash it down with milky builder’s tea served in a polystyrene cup (not just because the coffee is undrinkable.) Arrive early, mind, as by 7 a.m. things are winding down and some of the atmosphere is lost.

Heston Blumenthal’s shrine to historically-inspired British cuisine continues to impress, holding two Michelin stars and a dizzying spot on the World’s 50 Best list because it serves precise and innovative food with élan. Exquisite chicken liver parfait Meat Fruit is an essential order for the table. From there, each dish is dated and rooted to food from centuries ago. In that context it may come as some surprise that the flavours involved seem to take a global outlook, but then — yeah, actually — Britain did once too.

Set in a rustic railway arch in Bermondsey, this humble-looking kitchen and bar presents some of London’s most flavourful food. There’s a certain French-ness, from baguettes through terrines and the provenance of natural wines on offer. But then techniques and traditions from across the channel pervade British cuisine, and the essence of the food here is that of so many restaurants on this list: seasonal vegetables, rich heritage-breed meats, local farmhouse cheeses. Save for its extraordinary cooked ham, the menu (scrawled on one blackboard, of course) is never the same. Recent highlights include carrot, crab and monk’s beard broth, oyster fritters with laverbread mayonnaise, and a celeriac and Ardrahan pie.