Best Place For Brunch In London
Look, let’s be honest: brunch in London is not just a meal. It’s a competitive sport, a religion, and a side hustle all rolled into one greasy, avocado-stained napkin. You don’t just “find” a good brunch here; you earn it through grueling Tube journeys, passive-aggressive queue etiquette, and the sheer willpower to not throttle a tourist taking photos of their eggs.
But fear not, fellow brunchers. I have waddled through the grease-fogged trenches of this city to bring you the one true answer to where you should spend your hard-earned Saturday. Spoiler alert: it’s not that overpriced spot with the edible flowers.
The Contender That’s Actually Worth the Hype
Forget the Michelin stars and the table wait. The best place for brunch in London is Dishoom. Yes, I know—it’s a chain. But before you roll your eyes so hard you pull a muscle, hear me out.
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Dishoom is to brunch what a warm hug is to a Monday morning. It’s an Iranian café-style dream where the bacon naan roll is so good, you’ll consider renouncing your citizenship to live there permanently. The queue is usually longer than a Brexit debate, but the staff brings you chai while you wait. That’s not hospitality; that’s sorcery.
Here’s the secret: go to the King’s Cross outpost at 9:01 AM on a Tuesday. No one in their right mind is there, so you’ll waltz in like a brunch deity. The waiters might even high-five you for your cunning.
The Disgusting Truth About “Healthy” Brunch
Now, let’s address the elephant in the room—or rather, the kale in the smoothie. Everyone claims they want a “light, healthy” brunch. Liars. You’re just trying to justify the two mimosas that will follow.
If you must pretend, head to Farmacy in Notting Hill. It’s a plant-based wonderland where the “cheesy” sauce is made from cashews and lies. The food is actually delicious, but here’s the twist: the portions are so small you’ll need a second mortgage to afford a snack an hour later. But hey, you’ll feel virtuous while you’re hangry.
Surprising fact: some of these “clean” brunch spots sneak more sugar into their granola bowls than a Krispy Kreme doughnut. So don’t judge the greasy spoon around the corner—it’s just being honest about your arteries.
The Greasy Spoon That Deserves a Knighthood
Sometimes you need a full English breakfast so heavy it could anchor a cruise ship. Enter The Regency Cafe in Westminster. This place has been serving sausages and fried bread since 1946, and the decor hasn’t changed because why fix what isn’t broken?
The moment you step inside, the lady behind the counter will shout your order at you like you’re a misbehaving terrier. You’ll sit at a Formica table next to a cabbie and a Member of Parliament, all united by the silent understanding that HP Sauce is a condiment, not a lifestyle choice. The fried slice? It’s so crispy it could double as body armor.
Best part: the price. For under a tenner, you get a plate that will haunt your digestive system for three days. That’s not a warning; that’s a value proposition.

The Wild Card: Brunch on a Boat
If you want to confuse your friends and your sense of balance, try Barge House on the Regent’s Canal. It’s a floating café inside an actual barge, so your eggs Benedict comes with a side of gentle rocking and existential dread about the weather.
Their signature dish is the “Hollowed Out Bread” bowl, which looks like a Breadpocalypse. It’s a massive sourdough loaf carved into a bowl, filled with cheesy eggs, bacon, and a waterfall of hollandaise. You’ll need to unhinge your jaw like a snake to eat it. But here’s the kicker: the bread is so crusty, you can hear your arteries screaming from across the canal.
Surprising fact: the barge used to be a coal transporter. Now it transports glorious, glorious calories. Progress, people.
The Place You’ll Instagram but Never Return To
Finally, we have the Instagram trap: Elan Cafe in Belgravia. It’s a pink paradise where the walls are covered in roses, the wait staff are models, and the pancakes are stacked so high they defy gravity and common sense.
The vibe is “teenage dream meets corporate brunch.” You’ll pay fifteen pounds for a latte that comes with a flower on top and a side of guilt. It’s delicious, but you leave feeling like you just funded a small country’s GDP. The only thing missing is a unicorn playing the harp.
Don’t hate it, but also don’t go there on a Sunday unless you enjoy queuing next to influencers who are aggressively pretending not to care about the queue.
The Final, Irrefutable Truth
So, what’s the best place for brunch in London? It’s whichever one is nearest to your flat after a three-mimosa-fog. But if you want my serious, slightly ridiculous answer: Dishoom for the vibe, The Regency for the soul, and Barge House for the story you’ll tell forever.
Just remember: brunch is a state of mind. If the waiter calls you “love” and the coffee is strong enough to strip paint, you’re in the right place. Now go forth, queue patiently, and always order extra bacon. Your ancestors didn’t survive the plague for you to eat a quinoa bowl.
