I think Chris Pople and Grace Dent do the best jobs of writing about restaurants, and I don’t want to fog up your internet.

But. I do like eating dinner and I do have some #opinions. So, this is my top howevermany, in no order. Many of them are near where I live – that’s life.

The noodles are like silk – thick, slurpable noodlesilk. I would rather catch my finger on a mandoline than use the word “unctuous” but if that weren’t the case I would use it here.

Numara Bos Cirrik (the one on Stoke Newington High Street, N16, NOT the one on Stoke Newington Road, in Dalston! Beware!)
This is very close to my home and after four years I can barely walk near it without urgently needing to go inside. People have other preferred Turkish joints, but they’re wrong. I like to fill my table with mucver (courgette patties), yogurtlu sis (cubes of juicy lamb on yoghurt) and chicken wings. The pomegranatey onion salads are dynamite, and free.

The neighbourhood dream, and never a dull mouthful. Once, they went bananas for a romesco sauce I wasn’t super keen on and Vic and I nearly fell out about it. Otherwise, FLAWLESS.

Bob Bob Ricard
I haven’t pressed the champagne button. But nowhere makes you feel more fancy, except maybe…

Le Gavroche
How silly that I’ve ever been here. I ate Souffle Suissesse and felt like the Queen. It goes in this list even though I’ll probably never go again.

Silk Road
Nothing original to say . That aubergine! Once you know, you know. The only reason to traverse the whole bloody city.

They are doing cool stuff here – their flavour combos make me feel sort of giddy. Lemon sole, daikon, citrus butter, liquorice. Smoked eel, pear, beetroot, horseradish, cream. Yum, yum, yum, yum, yum.

Burger and Lobster
Yes! We’re bored of burgers (I’m not), and yes! You can get brioche buns at any old dive these days. But there was a time when you couldn’t, and I am old enough to remember it. Still, these are the BEST buttery buns I’ve met that are stuffed with tip-top lobster and drizzled with lemon butter. So there!

Mates, this place is absurd. For £16 a head, the “Kerala feast” is a mindblowing parade of vegetarian curries. Proper joyful dinner.

My boyfriend Rich and I know what we like and what we like is proper fucking pasta.

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