Bone Daddies

Bone Daddies opened on Peter Street in 2012 as one of the restaurants that helped push London’s ramen scene beyond the handful of quiet Japanese basements that existed before it, and its Soho branch still runs on the same loud, high-energy formula more than a decade on: a rock and roll soundtrack playing at genuine volume, an open kitchen visible from most seats, and bowls built to be eaten fast rather than lingered over.

Founder Ross Shonhan’s tonkotsu broth is simmered for around twenty hours to get the depth the restaurant built its early reputation on, and the menu is deliberately short: a handful of broths from a comparatively mild soy ramen through to a fiery chilli tantanmen and an anchovy-spiked tonkotsu for people who want something more assertive and unusual, each topped with pak choi, a soft marinated egg and a choice of pork or chicken.

Bao buns and a small selection of starters fill out the rest of the order, but the ramen is unambiguously the point of a visit here. Portions are generous and the pricing sits in the middle of the market for the quality on offer, which is part of why the original branch has kept a loyal following through more than a decade of newer London ramen openings competing for the same crowd. Craft beer and a short list of Japanese whisky highballs are the default drinks order here, chosen to cut through the richness of the broth rather than compete with it.

The room itself is small, close-packed and genuinely loud by design, more suited to a quick, sociable dinner with friends before heading elsewhere in Soho than a conversation-heavy evening where you want to hear the person opposite you clearly.

The honest caveat: the volume and pace that make it fun for some diners make it exhausting for others, tables turn over fast which can feel rushed if you want to linger over a second bowl, and it is very much a bowl-of-noodles destination rather than a restaurant built for a long, relaxed evening in Soho.