Anglo

Anglo is the sort of restaurant that rewards a little curiosity. Tucked away in Farringdon, it is small, cosy and smart without making a fuss about any of those things. A neon sign gives the entrance a flicker of personality, but inside the room is deliberately restrained. The welcome is polite, professional and chatty in the best way, and the evening settles quickly into the comfortable rhythm of a tasting menu. Even the British sparkling wine from Hampshire feels like a useful statement of intent: local, thoughtful and quietly confident.

The food is at its most memorable when it finds luxury in a familiar idea. Mushroom and cep custard had earthy depth, while the burnt leek tartlet was, as promised, a posh cheese and onion crisp. Warm sourdough with soft yeast butter and sea salt was exceptional — a 9.5/10 piece of bread that made restraint difficult. Wye Valley asparagus came with marjoram, turbot was clean and gently lifted by dill, and a mushroom burrata with pearl barley was so good that the whole table ordered it as an extra. Monkfish in coffee glaze and new-season lamb kept the menu moving between savoury richness and freshness.

Cheese on toast, cherry with hay ice cream as a cleanser, chocolate with yoghurt and strawberries with elderflower brought the meal home without losing its sense of place. Anglo does not need glitz to make a tasting menu feel special. It has a well-judged room, a generous wine flight and a team that understands the difference between attentive and intrusive. This is a lovely hidden gem, and the lack of theatre is part of its charm: the cooking, the conversation and the quiet pleasure of discovering somewhere good do the work.