London Restaurant Recommendations 26 Trivet: Honest Cooking That Outshines the Stars, Even If I Don’t Fully Buy Into the Michelin Game
In London’s crowded and competitive dining scene, Trivet is one of the rare restaurants that genuinely stands out through an extraordinary quiet confidence. Tucked away on an unassuming street in Bermondsey, it doesn’t seek attention through theatrics or trends, but instead offers a sincere, thoughtful experience shaped by precision and purpose.
The restaurant was founded by chef Jonny Lake, formerly Executive Head Chef at The Fat Duck, and sommelier Isa Bal, a Master Sommelier of exceptional repute, after years at the pinnacle of molecular gastronomy, the pair left to open Trivet—an à la carte restaurant free from the structure of tasting menus, where diners are given the freedom to choose. It’s a deeply appealing concept: simple, personal, and quietly radical in today’s fine dining landscape.
Although I don’t entirely agree with Trivet’s two-star rating from the Michelin Guide—it’s fair to say I have my reservations—the award didn’t surprise me. Michelin in London is, in many ways, a curious game. Friends who know me will understand how I feel about certain two- and even three-star establishments. But setting the stars aside, Trivet’s cooking is worth paying close attention to.
One of my favourite dishes on the menu is the drunken lobster noodles. It appears comforting and mellow, but it’s layered with Japanese technique and nuance. The broth is made using roasted lobster shells and dashi, then finished with white miso, bringing a savoury depth and a gentle fermentation note that lingers on the palate. It’s a dish I find myself wanting to return to.


Equally memorable is the inventive Hokkaido potato mille-feuille. Inspired by Jonny's trip to Japan, the dish takes the humble potato to a new place. The caramel is made using potato peel, imparting an earthy bitterness; the filling is a ganache made from white chocolate, sake, and potato purée, delivering richness without excess. It’s served with delicate sake and butter gelato—a clever and deeply satisfying finale. This is not a sweet course that tastes nice—it resonates emotionally and intellectually.
Even something as humble as the bread receives serious attention at Trivet. They serve sourdough from Coombeshead Farm in Cornwall. I prefer my sourdough quite sour, and this one truly delivers: dark, crusty, and deeply fermented, with a moist and chewy interior.


Trivet is special because it doesn’t try to dazzle with culinary fireworks. Instead, it offers a kind of culinary philosophy—one considered, quietly expressive, and rooted in substance. Japanese ingredients and techniques appear throughout the menu but are never used as gimmicks. They’re seamlessly woven into the chef’s language, reflecting experience rather than appropriation.