The best wine bars in London, according to our editors

Since 1152, when the future King of England Henry II married Eleanor, a Duchess of Aquitaine who brought a small place called Bordeaux to the association, England has been known for two things: its greed for the land and its thirst for wine. The land is gone, but the thirst remains, and wines from Britain’s former empire (and its competitors) still pour into London, making it a wonderful city to explore the world by the glass.

For example, if Bordeaux is still what you want, there are six vintages of the great Château Margaux by the glass at Clairette in Marylebone, which belongs, like the Castle, to the Mentzelopoulos family. A more 21st century option is 40 Malby Street, a natural wine bar. During my last visit, I discovered an excellent Beaujolais from Jérôme Balmet, a disciple of Lapierre and Lapalu, and a Monastrell from La Zafra, a microbodega from Alicante near the Mediterranean coast. Tables are shared; the small plates are delicious. They don’t take reservations, so come early. by Frank is to stay late. This bar hides beneath Maison Francois, a gorgeous double-height brasserie with the most lavish dessert trolley in London, but Frank’s prefers its fermented sugar. Here, you can harness yourself to a stool at the bright counter and peruse a wine list that begins and ends in France but travels a lot in between, all the while figuring out which bottles pair best with gougères or their excellent terrine. .

No self-respecting London wine lover would miss noble rot, in an old building in Clerkenwell. This haven of peace now has a younger brother in a legendary former haunt of ex-politicians in Soho, and both are dens of temptation: in addition to seasonal delicacies, there is an ever-changing selection of the types of wines that are generally not available by the glass, at generous markups. For something a little crazier, I fall into Luca Dusi’s fabulous vinotheque Passionate about wine, where the wallpaper is flamboyantly floral, the store shelves are filled with bottles, and the tiny kitchen produces great pasta to help limit the effects of another native varietal or unusual producer that Luca praises . More Italian than tricolor, he is perfectly at home in this parched, terminally ill city. The lands have returned to their rightful owners, and that’s fine, as long as they continue to send a share of their fermented grapes to London.

Nina Caplan is a London-based arts, wine and travel writer. his first book is The wandering vine: wine, the Romans and me (2018, Bloomsbury Continuum).