This century-old Marylebone deli will do anything you like when it comes to sliced and quartered sandwiches. Egg mayo with glistening anchovies, luminous coronation chicken, sizzling bacon with a squirt of ketchup—you name it, Paul Rothe will do it. Inside it’s somewhere between a caff, a deli, and a Ye Olde Chutney Emporium. Jars of jams, pickles, and condiments line the wall and there are half a dozen or so formica tables plus a little counter to call dibs on.

Daquise has the air of a dining room that hasn’t changed for half a century or so. Chandeliers hang and borscht is ladled into your bowl tableside at this wonderfully old-school Polish institution in South Kensington. Sitting in its grand, aged dining room—part tiled, part distressed, but wholly elegant—makes us wonder why this traditional ideal of a restaurant is no longer in vogue. Yes, the goulash is overcooked, so have the moreish hunter’s stew or a fail-safe schnitzel instead.

Of London’s many classic eating and drinking institutions, The French House is perhaps the most famous. Fondly referred to as ‘The French’ by its regular patrons and those who’ve watched one too many Guy Ritchie films, the Soho boozer-cum-devious upstairs dining room isn’t just a historical inclusion. Whether you’re sinking cidres downstairs or settling in upstairs on a Thursday—their imperious steak et frites day, FYI—you always feel a part of something a little secret and potentially sordid.

Few restaurants maintain the gold stamped guarantee of a good time quite like Quo Vadis. The Soho restaurant and members club is a homely institution that’s also home to two classics. One comes in the shape of Jeremy Lee, QV’s amiable head chef. The second is in the delicately poised shape of his famous smoked eel sandwich. It’s as good as everyone says, as is their bar, perfect for propping up with a martini, alongside the superlative chips, paté, pies, and ‘QV profiteroles au chocolat’.

Walk into St. John’s white-walled bar area, eyes closed and, when you open them, you’d be easily forgiven for thinking you’d walked into some kind of restaurant heaven. The Clerkenwell institution is London’s most famous British restaurant. Its ‘nose-to-tail’ cooking approach first defined by head chef and workwear icon Fergus Henderson is known the world over. Its pies are, quite simply, an experience that every person should have at least once in their life. In fact, the whole restaurant is.

When you’re at this Pakistani spot in Whitechapel, whether you’re seated at one of the big family tables or stood outside, you’ll feel like you’re here. Like you’re actually in London. It’s loud, it’s full of families, couples, friends who are making the most of the no corkage fee, and it’s been serving some excellent Punjabi food since 1972. There’s a lot to appreciate at this east end institution, not least the decently priced curries, grilled lamb chops, and sensational keema naan.

Look up, high above Wong Kei’s sign, and you’ll learn that before it was the Cantonese canteen and Chinatown institution it is today, it was home to a renowned Victorian wigmaker. What’s clear is that this was a noteworthy building then, and it continues to be a noteworthy building now. Without Wong Kei and its slapped-on-your-table wonton noodle soups and roasted meats bathing in sweet shining umami gravy, London would be a much poorer place.

Koya’s English breakfast udon bowl—that mixes the pig fat of a fry-up with a gooey tamago egg and shiitake mushrooms—is one of the great modern London dishes. The little udon bar first opened on Frith Street in 2010 and the standards of this Japanese spot remain very high indeed. Queues snake outside from lunchtime onwards and, come nighttime, the dimly lit counter is a corridor of hunched shoulders and constantly moving chefs.

Roll up to Sông Quê in a group on a Thursday, Friday, Saturday or, sod it, most nights, and you’ll find that approximately 90% of east London appears to have had the same idea. The reason being is that this now institutional Vietnamese spot on Kingsland Road is one of the best around. The cavernous pastel green room is full of noodles being slurped and bottles of Oyster Bay being cracked every night, but come by in the day and you’ll find a soothing space for one person lunches.

There are family-fun restaurants and then there’s witnessing E. Pellicci’s manager Nevio Jnr. hollering to his mum Maria in the kitchen that the man at table six is from Scotland and also, they’d like the full English with extra black pudding. A daytime Italian café in Bethnal Green that’s been open since 1900, this place runs on strong cuppas, fried bread, and banter. It’s high-energy hilarity where you can indulge in The Best Fry Up Of Your Life circa 8AM or a truly epic portion of lasagne.