Like most things in my life, my relationship with the City of London is complicated. If you asked 20-year-old Faith to describe her father’s hometown of London or broader England, themes of bad bland food, curmudgeonly relatives, nauseating car rides, and the pathetic ruins of castles would be her top five complaints.
However, this imagery would be based on an itinerary thrusted upon her childhood self. See, what 20-year-old Faith didn’t realize was that she had never truly seen London or England. She saw family. And sporadically thrown in between those relatives would be an array of stones that could have perhaps formed a castle––and a mediocre one at that.
My formerly impressionable young mind’s opinion was formed by stays at Nanny Lucy’s, my Irish grandmother. In this formerly wifi-less household, my loving, doting Father would jokingly(?) tell us that if my sister and I ever went missing, we could be found buried in Lucy’s backyard. While accustomed to my Father’s humor, the Irish-British signaling of love was new. Practically raised by our kooky, affectionate Dominican grandmother, Abby, we didn’t understand that YELLING and DEMEANING us was Lucy’s love language.
As you can imagine, England quickly became tied to my dysfunctional relationship with my grandmother and extended family. With no emotional comfort, I sought out food. After all, Abby’s succulent ropa vieja always brought a smile. But Lucy’s culinary expertise started and ended with boiled cabbage. So, when we went out to dinner, I scanned the menu for a burger. Yes, both young and old Faith always LOVED burgers. However, rather than being comforted by the juicy drippings of a burger ... Well, let’s just say I continue to have vivid nightmares about the “burgers” I tried on those trips (cut to a decade later, I learned that my lovely beef burgers were probably used horse meat).
So, by the time I reached high school, I loathed London. After failing to get excused from the 9th-grade trip to London, I ventured on a week-long excursion with all of my closest bullies. While I now have the fond memory of boating on the Thames, taking the first picture with my best friend, Bryley; I focused on how I was forced to go on the London Eye despite my disdain for rollercoaster (and being trapped in a small bubble with MY BULLIES). We continued doing more touristy things that I never did on my family trips. Unshockingly, at the end of the trip, my opinion of the city and country remained unchanged––even after actually seeing the city for what could have easily been the first time.
Despite everything I believed about London, I had the brilliantly questionable idea to live with Nanny Lucy for multiple months (after not seeing or speaking to her in four years) following my semester abroad in Italy. While I believe the knowledge of her wifi-ed house soothed my worries, I genuinely have no idea what I was thinking or expecting. But what I was not expecting was London’s food scene.
For the first in 12 years, I survived a trip to London with my father, as he no longer has the power of dictating my total itinerary. I chose which cousins and relatives I want to vist, the places I wanted to see, and most importantly, the foods I want to eat.
There is probably one person in this world who is more food-driven than I am, and that is my cousin Sophie. My lovely cousin has this magical talent of finding every good eatery in London; she’s also lucky enough to have eaten at most of them. In fact, her guidance (and sometimes wallet) is why I have been fortunate enough to eat at these delicious restaurants. She and her fellow vegetarian brother and vegan sister have even gotten me to eat at a vegan Chinese restaurant. No, it didn’t make the list, but the food wasn’t half bad.
So, if you are ever in the City of London, I suggest you listen to Faith’s Takes and Sophie’s Choices and eat at some of our favorite eateries…or should I say our favourite eateries?
When I visited Sophie on my most recent trip to London (June 2024), the stars truly aligned to eat at Berenjack, specifically at their Borough Market location. Bright and early one Tuesday morning, Sophie asked if I was still free for dinner that night. After confirming, she adorably asked for my opinion on restaurants and cuisine. And, as the unhelpful younger cousin, I batted my eyes and said, “I trust your recommendations…you have yet to steer me wrong.”
A whopping four minutes later, she found a reservation at a Michelin Guided Iranian restaurant she had been dying to go to. It even had average London prices (something that would be impossible in the almighty New York City).
When we arrived at 5:30, we sat at the counter, looking out at the kitchen. Despite the beautiful interior, the hypnotic motions of the kitchen staff and our stimulating conversation distracted me from taking photos of the building. Thankfully, the eye-popping colors and the aromatic food sparked my need to take pictures, capturing our delectable meal.
After we each ordered the prefix, we each picked one of the two types of bread: a sangak (a pebble-baked wheat flatbread with sesame seeds) and a barbaric (a clay-baked flatbread, also topped with sesame seeds).
The hard part came when choosing our dips and spreads. With seven options, we had to somehow dismiss 5 amazing dishes to order our selections. We selected mast o khiar, a superb strained yogurt with cucumber, mint, and green raisins. This felt similar to a tzatziki sauce, but the dark forest green of the mint reduction or oil (I am not sure which) elevated the dish to new levels.
Our second side was the hummus e Khanegi, composed of black chickpeas, sunflower seed tahini, walnuts, and somagh (also known as sumac, it is a dark red spice that comes from red berries of the Rhus Coriaria bush). Black chickpeas are denser than their white counterparts; as a result, black chickpeas taste more nutty. Unexpectedly, the black chickpeas created a more vibrant taste and imagery. Unfortunately, my eagerness to eat and the slightly cramped counter space removed the opportunity to take individual close-ups of these delectable dips.
For my main course, I selected the jujeh kabab, boneless chicken breast, saffron, lemon, yogurt, and grilled tomato. In turn, Sophie got the special vegetarian option, Ghaimeh Bademjoon, an eggplant (or aubergine for those who speak British) stew with black lime, yellow split peas, and grilled tomato.
While I am not a big fan of lentils, eggplant, or stew, I ventured outside my tastebuds’ comfort zone and tried Sophie’s dish. And while I maintain that I’m not a big fan of stew or lentils, my previously strong dislike of eggplant lessened…in fact, the aubergine was quite enjoyable.
Stuffed to the brim, we ended our dining at Berenjak in Borough Market. Unfortunately for our family, we took our amazement home, reminiscing about the textures and flavors of each dish on our lips mere hours earlier.
Berenjak is not only a Michelin-starred restaurant but also a top pick in Faith’s Takes and Sophie’s Choice.
If you’re looking for something more casual than Berenjak and wish to save without sacrificing the taste, Koya in SoHo is the perfect place. Situated in the heart of London, Koya is a must-eat—that is, if you can get in.
As they don’t take reservations, your chance at eating one-of-a-kind noodle dishes depends on your luck and patience. On a pre-West End show meal with our other cousin, William, we arrived just in time for them to open their doors for the dinner rush. And an hour later, as we left, we witnessed a line of locals waiting to be seated.
Thankfully, without having to wait, nothing was in between me and my simple yet spectacular noodles…except the waiter and cook. Koya udon noodles are unlike anything I have had in the States. Long, thick, bouncy, and perfectly chilled, my go-to order of Zaru Gomadare (Zaru Udon with sesame sauce) packed a dubious amount of flavor despite the minimal ingredients. The serving of noodles comes topped with slivers of dried seaweed and a side of scallions. These greens easily expand the original flavor palette.
Having to travel over 3,000 miles to get my favorite udon noodles, I have been stubborn and have only tried the sesame udon found in the Hiya-Hiya, or cold noodles with cold sauce to dip, section of the menu. I have eaten their chicken kara-age (Japanese fried chicken), and let’s just say it was nothing to write home about (literally).
Between missing Koya Soho and a general lack of experience with Zara Udon in the US, I volunteer as tribute. The mission? To find a comparable restaurant in New York, for me, you, but most importantly for Sophie and her siblings. Like me, they need to be bribed with good food (and lovingly called out on the internet) to visit the States and their favorite Duggans. But back to the restaurant at hand, for locals and travelers, Koya consistently delivers simply excellent noodles; that’s why it’s on Faith’s Takes and Sophie’s Choice.
Like my own customized Eater list or a modern-day Zagat, I ask Sophie for the best cheap eats in London. Time and time again, she delivers. Lina Stores was her first-ever personalized recommendation; it’s the restaurant that started it all.
After three months of studying abroad in the Umbria region of Italy in 2022, my bar for quality Italian food had never been higher. Between the overall higher quality of fresh foods in grocery stores and the obvious raised standards of Italian cooking, I was living or eating my best life.
So when I walked into Lina Stores for Italian, I was, at best, prepared to have some pretty decent Italian and, at worst, prepared to turn my nose up at it. This was, of course, before I understood what Sophie’s Choice truly meant.
Eating with Celia, my fake cousin, we started our meal with drinks and an appetizer to share. While Celia got a glass of white wine, I tried one of their homemade juices, a refreshing blackberry and sage shrub. We then decided to share a Panzanella (an Umbrian summer salad). Unfortunately, the dish came when I was away from the table, between a hungry Celia and the eye-popping dish easily, Celia couldn’t bare waiting for me. I returned to a half-eaten dish, with nary a photo taken. So, while I can’t describe the intricate colors of the dish, I can report that the flavors forced Celia to finger-lick the plate.
Celia proceeded to order the gomiti e piselli, or elbow pasta with pea and pancetta. In turn, I truly tested the quality of Lina Stores by selecting the Tagliolini al Tartufo e Parmigiano (truffle and parmesan pasta). While truffle pasta is from Northern Italy, truffles are commonly found in the Umbria region. Having had an almost infinite supply of truffle products, I was prepared to be disappointed. But once the dish arrived, and I gazed upon the dish, smelling the melted cheese and aroma of the truffles, I was sold. After trying the pasta, I remember declaring that Lina Store makes the best truffle pasta outside of Italy.
We ended our meal with a Bignè al Pistacchio, a puff pastry filled with pistachio cream. This dessert proved how more of the Western world can successfully utilize pistachio cream (and should do).
Lina Stores undoubtedly brings a taste of Italia to the hustle and bustle of London, as such, it is highly ranked on Faith’s Takes and Sophie’s Choice.
London’s Dishoom is a Bombay-inspired restaurant that mimics the popular Irani cafes throughout Mumbai in the 1960s. Despite having nine locations throughout the city, long lines are often found outside them. Between the long lines, hard-to-get reservations, and the word on the street, I believed Dishoom was unattainable for a young college student.
But two years after first learning of this must-eat Indian restaurant, I finally got to dine at the King’s Cross locations. With no reservation, I got there 20 minutes prior to my friend, Cecilia's, arrival to get in line. Almost immediately before her arrival, I was seated and handed the largest menu I had ever seen.
Often, when restaurants have extensive menus, it’s a red flag. But at Dishoom, it shows the kitchen staff's wide range of skills. We first started with drinks: an oat chai tea (which comes with free refills and a Sophie Choice) and a mango fennel lassi. Shockingly, I felt the lassi wasn’t thick enough, and the flavor was a tad muted.
But there isn’t a bad thing to say about our actual meal, which contained garlic naan, Chicken Ruby, and Dishoom Chicken Tikka. The Chicken Ruby was a proper curry dish composed of a silky makhani sauce. The Dishoom Chicken Tikka is based on a family recipe, replacing yogurt with sweet vinegar and seasoned with ginger, turmeric, garlic, and green chili.
These meat dishes are not on Sophie’s Choice. I had to go with somewhat safe choices, as shortly after my arrival, my stomach got mad at me, and I was not brave enough to test its limits. But on my next return, I plan to order a signature Dishoom dish, the House Black Daal, the Okra fries, and for dessert, Basmati kheer (caramelized basmati rice pudding with vanilla-infused coconut milk, cardamom, and cashews, topped with a blueberry compote).
Delivering a wide variety of spectacular Indian food, the word on the street undersells Dishoom, so it must be featured on Faith’s Takes and Sophie’s Choice. And luckily for all New Yorkers, Dishoom has just opened a pop-up in Brooklyn. And if I weren’t familiar with the London prices, I would be there in a second…plus, it’s in Brooklyn, the journey to London is shorter.
Honorable mentions:
If you love CINNAMON BUNS, please go to Buns from Home. If you want to discover new types of buns, still go to Buns from Home; they have countless unique flavors.
Exploring Notting Hill? As you should. Say hi to Julia Roberts and the pancakes topped with a berry compote at Bluebelles of Portobello Road. (Please note: technically not a Sophie's Choice.)
Closing:
Thank you, dear reader, for making it to the end. You have my deepest apologies and sympathies, as you are starving and craving food from restaurants only located in London. Please trust me; I understand your pain and have carried it with me for two years. Please feel free to reach out if you need to commiserate with someone who knows your pain.
And, as always, thank you Sophie for your amazing choices.
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