The Latchmere is part of a small chain of South London pubs, most of which lie south of the river. It’s a spectacular building, showing some of the modernity that that has kept real ales and seafood boards relevant. Call it contrived, but there are mighty burgers, steaks, and decent fish and chips — as well as the opportunity to go full ‘gastro’ with dishes like porcini and ricotta ravioli with walnut pesto on offer. Meat is sourced from its own farm in Hampshire; the atmosphere is warm and unpretentious. It’s cheery stuff, with a large beer garden when the weather’s good.

Nutbourne like its sibling restaurants The Shed, Sussex, and Rabbit, is casual and eclectic, with religious devotion to top produce. The cuttlefish crackers with whipped cod’s roe are close to snack nirvana; the Tamworth pork chop is earthy next to sweeter bits of barbecued cherries and walnuts. Nutbourne is well on the way to measuring up to its elders, with a heated terrace offering some outdoor dining space.

The Humble Grape in Battersea is one of three across London. It’s accessible, but also impressive — perhaps even to those who name drop Dagueneau and order 2001 Riojas. This particular wine bar should also shout a little louder about its food. Skip the mains, but order a bottle and go all in on the snacks and small plates: the selection is credible. Grilled peaches are warm and fragrant, snuggling with ricotta; the pork and beef meatballs hit it off immediately with a glass of Barbaresco; there are superlative cured meat plates.

Augustine Kitchen is every bit as rich and delicate as the region it celebrates: Evian in the French Alps, where champagne and quenelles of things whose prices are best left unknown are scooped up, feet still attached to skis. Finely tuned pâté and pastry aside, the restaurant is dainty and delightfully outfitted. It serves up girolles en masse, bouncy pieces de cod and langoustine covered in buttery sauces and/or hidden in tartlets. There are good wines, good cheeses, the place is leafy and the prices reasonable. By all accounts, a hidden gem.

Holy Cow, to go out on a limb, might be Battersea’s best restaurant. The food is spicy and authentic considered, miles and miles away from any middling mediocrity (and indeed, central London.) The parbat lamb is thick with courgettes and garlic, aromatic and sensuous; the murg dhansak properly fragrant and tangy; the biryanis taste like the ones found just north of Delhi.

Over by Clapham Junction, Kaosarn is a classic Thai BYOB, and the supermarket across the road makes things easy for the disorganised. The deep-fried soft shell crab is everything one wants to accompany a Chang beer: salty and crisp, batter so light it barely hides the seaside tenderness within. Noodles are mountainous and usually loaded with garlic, the Moo Ping (pork skewers), fragrant and sweet with palm sugar. Satay sauce will be everywhere — and there’ll be a need for a second pot.

Another Battersea brunch spot, yes — but what sets this place apart from every other one in the constituency are its laptop restrictions (they’re only allowed at the bar) and a menu of big-hearted offerings: sourdough French toast, scrambled eggs with creme fraiche and lemony massaged kale, hickory-smoked beans on toast, thick yogurt with homemade granola with aromatic pine honey. The three-cheese toastie (Montgomery, Keen’s Cheddar and Ogleshield) is a textbook winter warmer.

Earth (or SW11, anyway) has nothing to show more fair than Antonio Pellone’s pizzas. His margherita is great, his cornicione blistered and his dough both light and digestible, but it’s the second menu of sauceless white “gourmet” pizzas where he shows his mastery. Inventive and playful, they’re one degree away from trad but flawlessly executed. A small terrace, too, for outdoor dining.