30 things we love in the world of food, 2025

From a taste of Brazil in Manchester to the rise of the choc ice. “My food is like your grandmother’s, but far sexier,” says chef Paris Rosina, the first part perhaps unsurprising given she grew up watching the likes of Fanny Cradock, Keith Floyd and the Two Fat Ladies. After three years as head chef at cult London bakery the Dusty Knuckle, Rosina changed tack in 2021, showcasing her retro, comforting yet humble style of cooking at a pop-up, Let Me Fill You Up. “It was six courses and all about stuffed food,” she says. Dishes included cabbage rolls, stuffed chicken wings and jelly (“I love jelly”), with a burlesque show thrown in for good measure. A regular supper club, Come To My House I’ll Make You Fat, soon followed, and dinners at her London home have sold out ever since. “I’m still working hard, but now I can do whatever I want,” Rosina says. “And I like doing whatever I want.”.

Supper clubs are nothing new; chefs relishing independence and talented amateurs harnessing social media have been opening their homes to paying strangers since late 2008. “Coming from a non-professional kitchen background, I never imagined myself belonging in a restaurant,” says Ana Da Costa, whose Fat Tea supper club celebrating her Macanese heritage has led to restaurant pop-ups and events such as Meatopia. “Professional chefs often focus on the food itself, while amateur cooks like me bring a sense of warmth and familiarity.”.

James Ramsden rode the early supper club wave in 2010 with Secret Larder. This “led unintentionally to the last 10 years”, which meant opening restaurants including Pidgin in London (now closed). Since he moved to Yorkshire, Ramsden’s supper club – now called The Clock Barn – is back, and he has joined the growing number of chefs swapping professional kitchens for something more homely. “I love to cook but have zero desire to work day to day in a restaurant kitchen,” he says. “Now, once a month I do lunch and dinner for 20 people, which is nice and buzzy but seldom overwhelming.”.

Supper clubs scratch that professional and creative itch while offering greater autonomy over the food and working hours, and an element of certainty that a restaurant can’t. “There’s comfort in knowing how many people are coming to eat, that there’s one menu, and therefore how much money you’re going to take,” adds Ramdsen. But it’s not money that drives him: “If I crunch the numbers, it’s probably not worth doing, other than the fact I really enjoy it.”.

He’s not alone: last year also saw chefs Marc Johnston and Jonathan Mackle join forces for the roving Tumshie supper club in Glasgow; Rosina’s February supper clubs sold out fast and she has more planned for spring. “I just love hosting – everyone sitting in the kitchen with the music on and the candles lit,” she says. “As my friend always says, your food never tastes better than at your home.” Anna Berrill.

Paris Rosina. Miga, arguably London’s standout opening in 2024, launched quietly in May, with an inconspicuous Instagram page (which currently has only three posts) to match its minimalist interiors. Its name means “flavourful house”, and its star dishes include ox bone broth; beef tartare with egg yolk and Korean pear; and braised short ribs, a delicately sweet stew with pears and carrots, alongside sticky rice and tangy, crunchy homemade kimchi.

Miga is a family affair. Hyun Sang Ko moved to London in 1990, working in many of the city’s top Korean and Japanese restaurants. He runs the kitchen, with his three children front of house; their mother, Kyung Suk Lee, has another, very different Miga in south London, which launched in 2020. The latter, son Jae Ko says, is “neighbourhood auntie cooking”, with classic dishes such as bibimbap and Korean fried chicken.

The Hackney restaurant has a more modern approach, and Jae’s pride in his father’s cooking is evident: “My dad is the best Korean chef in London, and arguably one of the best chefs in London. [Hackney] is where the competition is. I want to be among the best, because I know my dad can stand out.”.

Inspired by the Korean cultural wave, or hallyu, spearheaded by its pop music and cinema, Korean restaurants are opening at unprecedented rates. In the US, Hyun Sang says, Korean food is “better than in Korea. Here, I don’t think so.” He is helping to change that. Tomé Morrissy-Swan.

From the Test Kitchen, a World’s 50 Best regular in her native South Africa, to London’s three-Michelin-star the Ledbury, Ash Valenzuela-Heeger learned from the very best during her first 15 years in professional kitchens. “I endeavoured to push myself, moving around, becoming a better chef,” she says, and those formidable skills are paying dividends at Riverine Rabbit.

Opened last January in the Birmingham suburb of Stirchley, and named after a native of South Africa’s Karoo desert, the 12-seat counter-dining venue was an instant hit. Valenzuela-Heeger cooks solo while her wife, Erin, handles front-of-house duties. Praise for the restaurant’s warmth (“We want it to feel like you’re being hosted at ours,” says Erin) and its small plates – such as crab muffin, brown butter hollandaise, pickled lemon and sea herbs; or bone-in skate with a yuzu buttermilk beurre blanc – soon reverberated beyond the West Midlands.