Barrafina

Twenty three stools around a marble and steel counter are the entire seating plan at the original Dean Street branch, and that scarcity is by design. Barrafina does not take bookings here, has never pretended to, and the queue that forms along the street most evenings is simply the cost of admission to what has been one of London’s best Spanish kitchens since 2007.

Watching the chefs work the open kitchen a few feet away is half the appeal. The tortilla, soft and barely set in the middle, and the ham croquetas are the two dishes that appear on almost every table, alongside a daily changing list of specials built around whatever seafood arrived that morning, often grilled langoustines or a whole turbot to share.

The pace at the counter is brisk. Staff know the rhythm of a solo diner grabbing a quick plate versus a couple settling in for a full meal, and dishes arrive as they are ready rather than in any fixed order, which suits grazing far better than a conventional three course structure.

Prices per dish are moderate, but they add up fast once the iberico ham and a bottle of Rioja join the table, and a proper meal for two easily clears eighty pounds. It rewards going with an appetite and a willingness to order more than feels necessary.

The honest caveat is the wait itself, which on a Friday evening can run past forty minutes with nowhere comfortable to stand, and the counter only format means no quiet corner table exists if that is what you are after. Barrafina has since expanded to several other London sites that take bookings, Adelaide Street and Drury Lane among them, so anyone unwilling to queue has an alternative, though regulars will tell you Dean Street still has the edge.