• British• Covent Garden
This quintessential Soho spot is all about delicious modern British and European dishes served from its comfy and historic dining room.
Dean Street Townhouse is one of those Soho institutions that’s been around for centuries, and played host to the great and the good of this iconic London neighbourhood. Since 2008 it’s been owned by the mega-successful Soho House group, who operate members’ clubs and restaurants in leading cities around the world.
While the dining room here isn’t old-fashioned, it definitely pays tribute to its rich history: deep red booths are the perfect place to while away a few hours on a long lunch, while its marble counter (with some seating available) and historic art and photography on the walls make it feel like the true Soho icon it is.
One look at the menu confirms that food here is proudly British and simple, although it still feels refined. Ham, egg and chips is a light bite that’s sure to please, while richer dishes like pork cheek with mash and carrots complement lighter salads and grilled vegetables. A brunch menu is always worth popping in for if you’re in Soho on the weekend with an hour to spare.
As restaurants go, Dean Street Townhouse fits the bill for almost any occasion that you can throw at it. It’s a plush British restaurant in Soho that feels like you’re sitting in the lounge of a private members’ club, with a long bar and loads of comfy leather booths and armchairs.
It looks great, but Soho House's new signing has a slight flaw. Shame it's the food…
While it’s nothing particularly outstanding, it’s elegant, slap bang in the middle of Soho, open all day and the food is always decent
The first sight of the gorgeous little thing, plump and roasted to a raw umber colour, is always worthy of a gasp – and our brace looked magnificent.
Unenthusiastically I ordered twice-baked smoked haddock soufflé. It was the size, hue and shape of a crème caramel, drenched with a buttery chive sauce, and was absolutely gorgeous, soft and light as a dream, while the smokiness of the fish came through robustly.
DST is buzzing from open until close across a series of Georgian-era rooms, and the menu cossets and comforts with well executed classic British dishes.
You get all of the feeling of being somewhere a little hip – even sultry, with its dark decor, velvety armchairs next door and low lighting – without the frustration of nibbling away at unsatisfyingly artistic cusine.