This popular scruffy Soho institution is named after the legendarily cantankerous owner of the adjacent antiquarian print gallery. Edmunds annexed what was a Dutch wine bar, where he liked to sit and eat his lunch everyday, when it went bust back in the ’80s. Under his ownership it offers quality helpings of classy, well-executed, simple seasonal comfort food, like the best gastropub grub but better. Candlelit at night, it’s regularly name-checked as one of London’s most romantic tables, although those who do so probably sit upstairs in the comparatively capacious but still cosy ground floor dining room, as opposed to the beyond bijou basement. You’ll need to book to bag a table and, irritatingly, they only take reservations seven days in advance. The service is pleasingly spunky and the well-assembled wine list is big on choice and low on mark-ups.