Leo’s Top Restaurants for 2026

If there’s one thing I pack before every trip—no matter how short—it’s my appetite. As many of you know, I have a not-so-secret rule: in every town I visit, I make it my mission to dine at a minimum of two restaurants that spark curiosity, promise flavour, or simply look too good to pass up. The past year has been rich with such moments—unexpected discoveries, quiet neighbourhood gems, and a few grand surprises—and I’m excited to finally share the ones that truly stood out.

Now, let me be clear: I’m not a food critic with a press pass or a hidden agenda. I don’t receive invitations, I don’t take freebies, and I certainly don’t give restaurants a heads-up that I’m coming. That’s half the fun. I want what everyone else gets—a table, a menu, and a first impression. What I write comes from genuine experience, whether it’s a joyful surprise or a quiet letdown. And no, I don’t do stars or points. Instead, I’ve adopted a classic Roman-style rating system: thumbs up or thumbs down. It’s simple, honest, and leaves no room for ambiguity.

One of my favourite moments this year happened in a small town bistro where, after an absolutely spectacular meal, the chef came over to ask how everything had been. When I said I’d write a review, he chuckled and said, “Only if you promise to be kind.” I replied, “Only if you promise to keep cooking like that.” He smiled. No promises were made—but let’s just say he earned his thumbs up that night.

This year’s selection of restaurants is a little closer to home, with many of my favourites found in the sun-drenched south of France, where I’ve spent more time lately. But proximity doesn’t mean predictability. These places impressed me with thoughtful cooking, local ingredients, warm hospitality, and, in some cases, a total surprise hidden behind an unassuming façade. That’s the thrill of dining out: you never quite know when a quiet Tuesday night will turn into something unforgettable.

And here’s where you come in. I’m always on the hunt for the next great spot, whether it’s tucked away down an alley in Paris, perched beside a lake in Switzerland, or sitting quietly on a corner in your hometown. So if you know a place I should try—a restaurant that deserves its moment in the sun—send it my way. I’d love to visit, taste, and share it with fellow food lovers.

These reviews are not just about the food, but about the experience—the people, the place, the unexpected delight of a dish that surprises you. I hope you find some inspiration here, maybe even your next favourite dining spot. And as always: come hungry.

Le Petit Cadet

Tucked along the lively Rue Cadet in the 9th arrondissement, Le Petit Cadet is the kind of Parisian bistro that locals guard jealously and visitors only discover if they’re lucky. From the moment you step through the door, it’s clear: this place is the real deal.

The atmosphere is everything you hope for in a Parisian neighbourhood spot—bustling but unhurried, with a cozy, lived-in charm. The room hums with conversations (in French, mostly), and the clink of glasses, all wrapped in that golden-hour lighting that seems to fall naturally on good food and better company.

We were immediately welcomed by the charming staff, who struck the perfect balance between relaxed and attentive. Friendly without fuss, they offered thoughtful wine suggestions, answered questions with a smile, and made us feel like regulars—even though it was our first visit.

The menu is a love letter to French cuisine. Think classics, but with just enough flair to keep things interesting. Rich terrines, seasonal vegetables dressed with care, and mains that speak of tradition—duck confit, steak frites, roasted fish with beurre blanc—all cooked with quiet confidence. Nothing feels overworked. Just well-sourced ingredients, well-handled.

The wine list is equally considered, offering a well-curated mix of familiar regions and a few lesser-known treasures. Whether you’re after a supple Burgundy, a crisp Loire white, or something skin-contact and funky from a small producer, Le Petit Cadet has you covered—without the sticker shock.

What really sets this place apart, though, is the feel. No gimmicks. No tourists waving guidebooks. Just good food, great wine, and the low hum of a neighbourhood that still knows how to eat well.

In a city overflowing with bistros, Le Petit Cadet quietly rises above the noise. If you’re after a genuine Parisian dining experience—unpretentious, unhurried, and delicious—this is your spot.

Le Pêcher

10 avenue Général Doyen, 74290 Veyron-sur-Lac, France

Tucked into the quiet charm of Veyron-sur-Lac, just beyond the postcard edges of Annecy, Le Pêcheur is one of those rare places that feels utterly untouched by pretension—and yet delivers a meal so fresh, so honest, it lingers in your memory long after the table’s been cleared.

This is lakeside dining at its most unfiltered and authentic. The menu is tight, the ingredients local, and the cooking—quietly confident.

We began with the accras—light, golden fish fritters that arrived piping hot, their crisp edges giving way to a soft, herby interior. Each bite held the flavour of the lake, kissed with a little spice, and paired beautifully with a zippy aioli. Alongside came the breaded calamari: tender, never rubbery, with a coating so crisp it practically shattered, and none of the grease that too often weighs such dishes down. They disappeared fast. The trout tartar was a standout—cool, silky, and delicately seasoned. You could taste the quality of the fish itself: bright, fresh, and absolutely singing with subtle acidity and herbs. It was the kind of dish that reminds you how little good ingredients actually need. For mains, we naturally gravitated toward the trout, caught locally and cooked with reverence. Served simply—skin crisped, flesh just barely opaque—it was a dish of elegant restraint. The salted fish, on the other hand, brought a bolder, more rustic note to the meal. Richer, more intense, with a satisfying chew that worked beautifully against its bright, garlicky accompaniments.

The view of the lake didn’t hurt either. As the sun dipped behind the hills and the water turned silver-blue, the entire scene became quietly magical—no fanfare, no filter, just nature and good food in quiet conversation.

Service was warm and informal, with just the right amount of care. You get the sense the people here truly love what they do—and it shows on every plate. Le Pêcheur doesn’t shout. It doesn’t need to. It serves fish the way it was meant to be served: fresh from the water, cooked with care, and shared with good company.

The Goat on the Roof

1 Bridge St, Newbury RG14 5BE, The United Kingdom

44 1635 580015

Hidden away in the heart of Newbury, The Goat on the Roof delivers an experience that is equal parts theatre and pure culinary joy. Dining here feels less like a meal and more like discovering a well-kept secret—a rare gem where every detail has been finessed to near perfection.

We were a party of four and opted to share generously across the menu, and it’s safe to say: everything dazzled.

To begin, the Barbed Dart was an intriguing and perfectly balanced bite—sharp, clean, and imaginative. The Fish Gilda, meanwhile, brought bold, briny flavour with exquisite precision; the anchovy and olive harmony was deeply satisfying.

Then came the mains, and this is where The Goat truly flexes its muscle. The Brixham Plaice was buttery and delicate, resting on a subtle, fragrant sauce that let the fish sing. The Ox Cheek was slow-cooked to perfection—tender and rich without being heavy, a masterclass in texture and restraint. The Pork Belly was just outrageous: shatteringly crisp skin giving way to soft, deeply flavoured meat with a lick of something sweet and acidic to cut through.

Our sides elevated the whole affair. The Crispy Potatoes were borderline addictive—golden and crunchy, generously seasoned, with a fluffy interior that could convert even the most indifferent diner. And let’s not forget the Daily Bread, which arrived warm, pillowy, and accompanied by what can only be described as the kind of butter you want to write poetry about. Desserts kept the bar high. The Basque Cheesecake was the best we’ve had outside San Sebastián—lightly charred on top, airy inside, and deeply creamy. The Lost Bread (a luxurious twist on French toast) was almost dessert-as-theatre, with custardy richness and a caramelised crust that dreams are made of. We finished with Fudge, and by then, we were completely seduced—soft, dark, and just the right hit of salt.

Our bottle of Dominion Del Carabo—rich, structured, and slightly wild—paired beautifully with both the depth of the mains and the indulgence of the desserts. A perfect choice for the table.

The service was warm, thoughtful, and relaxed—just attentive enough to make you feel taken care of without ever feeling intruded upon. The room itself walks the line between rustic and refined, with enough charm to make you feel like you’ve discovered somewhere truly special.

In a town with its fair share of eateries, The Goat on the Roof rises high above the herd. This is food with soul, made by people who care. We’ll be back. Soon.

Tucked just off the charming streets of Montpellier’s city center, directly across from Comme un dimanche sous le figuier and steps from the Église Saint-Roch, Le Weilai has quickly become one of my favorite culinary discoveries of the year. From the moment we stepped inside, we knew we’d found something special. The space is modest and inviting, and notably filled with locals and Chinese diners alike—always a good sign when you’re seeking authenticity.

The food? Outstanding.

We started with the homemade dumplings, which were perfectly seasoned and delicately folded—clearly made with care and precision. The tea-smoked pork belly followed and was a table-wide hit: rich, fragrant, and melt-in-your-mouth tender with just the right balance of smoke and spice.

One unexpected star was the lightly fried eggplant—crispy on the outside, silky inside, and so flavorful that even the eggplant skeptics at our table went back for seconds. But the showstopper was undeniably the whole fish with Sichuan peppercorns. Bold, numbing, spicy, and utterly addictive—it was a dish that had everyone reaching for more rice just to savor every drop of the sauce.

Service was warm and efficient, with staff happy to offer recommendations and explain dishes. But be warned: this place fills up fast, even on a weeknight. We saw several hopeful diners turned away while we were there. If you’re planning a visit (and you should), definitely book ahead.

Le Weilai is more than just a great Chinese restaurant—it’s a rare find in Montpellier, offering genuine, uncompromising Chinese flavors in a cozy setting that locals clearly treasure. Whether you’re craving dumplings, Sichuan heat, or just a comforting, authentic meal, this spot absolutely delivers.

Café Faune

13 rue de la République,
Montpellier, France 34000

04.99.58.28.96

Located at 13 rue de la République, just steps from the MO.CO. contemporary art centre, Café Faune feels like an extension of the creative energy that pulses through this part of Montpellier. With its sleek, minimal design and warm, inviting vibe, it’s the kind of place where you could spend an hour—or an afternoon.

Whether you’re coming for brunch, lunch, or just a well-pulled espresso, Faune delivers with style and substance. The menu leans fresh, seasonal, and Mediterranean, with a thoughtful focus on local produce and surprising flavor combinations that feel both modern and deeply satisfying.

The small plates and sharing options are where Faune really shines. Think: roasted vegetables with zesty herbs, beautifully composed salads, and creamy burrata with twists of citrus or spice. It’s food that looks like it belongs in a gallery—yet never forgets to taste amazing.

The drinks list is equally strong, with natural wines, craft cocktails, and teas or house-made infusions that pair beautifully with the relaxed-but-refined menu.

Service is casual but warm—this is a place that invites you to slow down and enjoy. Whether you’re seated inside the airy, light-filled interior or out on the terrace watching the city stroll by, Café Faune offers one of Montpellier’s most stylish and satisfying food experiences.

It’s not just a café. It’s a culinary escape tucked inside an artistic haven.

Léo Léo Restaurant

Twijnstraat 58
3511 ZM, Utrecht, The Netherlands

030-3031339

Tucked away in the heart of Utrecht, Léo Léo is one of those places that wins you over with charm, warmth, and surprisingly accomplished food. We went on a chilly winter evening, and the space had a cozy, Christmassy glow, with just the right amount of festive atmosphere to make the evening feel special.

The room itself is long and narrow—almost tunnel-like—which gives it an intimate feel, but also meant it could get a little noisy at times. The sliding front door was a bit awkward to manage, and we found ourselves laughing as we had to use our phone lights to read the menu in the low lighting. But those small inconveniences quickly faded once the food began to arrive.

The menu leans seasonal and thoughtful, with well-sourced ingredients and comforting flavours. One of us had the flat iron steak, served with a potato-celeriac mousseline and seasonal vegetables—a generous, beautifully balanced plate, cooked just right. A side of French fries with mayo kept things classic, and a glass of red Burgundy brought it all together with ease.

Across the table, the vegetarian dishes held their own. The celeriac with Café de Paris sauce, capers, and toasted seeds was bold, rich, and satisfying, while the smoked red beets with truffle goat cheese and pistachios offered a perfect balance of earthy, creamy, and nutty notes. A glass of Sauvignon Blanc was light and fresh, lifting the flavours without overwhelming them.

Everything was beautifully prepared, generously portioned, and priced with real fairness, which in a city like Utrecht, feels increasingly rare. There’s a sincerity to the cooking here—nothing flashy, just good food made with care.

Despite a few quirks in the space, Léo Léo is a spot we’d happily return to. It’s welcoming, unpretentious, and quietly confident—exactly the kind of place that makes you want to come back with friends. And let’s be frank: with a name like Léo Léo, I was pretty much guaranteed to love it. Any restaurant that shares my name clearly has excellent taste.

Bofinger

5-7, rue de la Bastille, 75004 Paris
01 42 72 87 82

Dining at Bofinger isn’t just a meal—it’s a step back in time, into the beating heart of old Paris. Founded in 1864, and known as Paris’s oldest Alsatian brasserie, Bofinger is a place where history lingers in every detail: the stained-glass dome, the glowing chandeliers, the polished brass, and the plush red banquettes. Just steps from Place de la Bastille, it’s an institution that has hosted everyone from heads of state to wide-eyed travellers—yet somehow, it still feels welcoming and alive.

I had the pleasure of dining here with two fabulous dear friends of mine, Kirsti and Patrica, whose wit and laughter matched the energy of the dining room. We weren’t the only ones soaking in the atmosphere—around us were suited Parisians discussing politics, tourists whispering in awe, and solo diners who looked like they’d claimed their usual table decades ago. The whole room felt like a set piece from a Parisian play: part restaurant, part theatre.

We opened with a round of oysters, briny and perfectly chilled, followed by a small platter of Burgundy snails, rich with garlic and parsley butter, served bubbling hot in their shells. The combination was classic, indulgent, and exactly what you hope for in a place like this.  For mains, each of us wandered into our own corner of French tradition. One friend chose the risotto with scallops, seared just-so and elegantly plated, delicate and full of flavour. Another ordered the sole meunière, which arrived with ceremony, filleted at the table and swimming in a pool of golden beurre noisette and lemon. I couldn’t resist the duck confit—crisp skin giving way to tender, falling-apart meat, served with golden pommes sarladaises that were just garlicky enough to be dangerously addictive.

To accompany it all, we shared not one but two bottles of Alsatian white wine, bright and mineral, the perfect pairing with our seafood starters and rich main courses. The wine flowed, the conversation followed, and we let the evening stretch on without rush.  And like the best of Parisian dinners, it all felt somehow timeless—a blend of history, great food, good wine, and a little bit of magic.

The service was polished and discreet, exactly what you’d hope for in a grande brasserie like this. Friendly without being overbearing, and effortlessly professional, they allowed the evening to unfold at our pace.  Bofinger doesn’t rely on reinvention—it doesn’t need to. What it offers is far more rare: consistency, character, and a sense that you’re part of something larger than yourself. A meal here is about more than what’s on the plate—it’s about being wrapped up in a piece of living Parisian history.

For anyone craving classic French cooking, a glass (or two) of wine, and a generous helping of old-world charm, Bofinger delivers. And I suspect it always will.

Bruder Küche & Bar

Windmühlgasse 20, 1060 Wien, Austria

43 664 1351320

Vienna is a city that reveres tradition, but every so often you find a place that feels completely of the moment while still understanding hospitality at its core. Bruder Küche & Bar is exactly that kind of discovery—confident, welcoming, and quietly excellent. I ate here one evening and left already thinking about when I could come back.

The room strikes an easy balance between relaxed and lively. Warm lighting, clean lines, and a low buzz of conversation give it the feel of a neighbourhood restaurant that locals genuinely love. Nothing feels forced or overly styled—it’s comfortable, energetic, and effortlessly cool.

I started with a beef tartare, beautifully seasoned and restrained, served with crisp accompaniments that added texture without stealing the spotlight. It was precise, confident cooking—clean flavours, no excess. This was followed by a roasted celeriac dish, earthy and deeply satisfying, lifted with herbs and a bright acidity that kept everything in balance. It’s the kind of plate that reminds you how exciting vegetables can be when treated seriously. For the main course, I chose a perfectly cooked pork dish, tender and rich, paired with seasonal vegetables and a sauce that tied everything together without heaviness. The cooking throughout felt thoughtful and assured—modern without being showy, generous without being overdone. The wine was just as memorable. I drank a Grüner Veltliner from a small Austrian producer, fresh and mineral with enough texture to stand up to the food, and later moved on to a light, elegant red from Burgenland that felt like exactly the right choice for the evening. The wine list is smart and well-curated—interesting, accessible, and very fairly priced—and the staff clearly enjoy helping you find something that fits.

Service throughout was warm, natural, and unpretentious. Attentive without hovering, knowledgeable without lecturing—the kind of hospitality that lets you relax completely and enjoy the evening at your own pace. What makes Bruder Küche & Bar stand out is how complete the experience feels. Excellent food, thoughtful wines, a buzzing room, and a team that genuinely cares. This is modern Vienna dining at its best: confident, relaxed, and deeply enjoyable.

If you’re looking for a place that reflects where Vienna’s food scene is right now—without losing its soul—Bruder is absolutely worth your time.

Café Savoy

Linke Wienzeile 36,, 1060 Wien, Austria

43 14 30 33 04

Some places don’t need reinvention—they need preservation. Café Savoy is one of those rare institutions that understands exactly who it is and delivers that identity with quiet confidence. Dining here feels like stepping into Vienna’s grand café tradition, where time slows, conversations linger, and elegance is never rushed.

The room itself sets the tone immediately: high ceilings, soft light, plush seating, and that unmistakable Old World atmosphere that Vienna does so well. It’s refined without being stiff, classic without feeling dusty. Locals read newspapers, couples linger over wine, and visitors take it all in with a kind of reverence. This is a place that invites you to settle in.

The menu is a celebration of Austrian and Central European classics, executed with care and restraint. I started with a beautifully prepared beef tartare, finely chopped, well-seasoned, and served with all the traditional accompaniments—simple, confident, and deeply satisfying. For the main course, I couldn’t resist the Wiener Schnitzel, perfectly thin and golden, crisp without a trace of grease, served with classic potato salad that struck just the right balance of acidity and richness. This is comfort food elevated through precision rather than reinvention.

Wine felt essential here, and rightly so. I chose a crisp Austrian white, bright and mineral, which paired effortlessly with the meal, followed later by a glass of elegant red that encouraged lingering just a little longer. The wine list is thoughtful and traditional, with excellent local representation and fair pricing—exactly what you’d want in a café of this stature.

Service was polished and professional, with the calm assurance that comes from experience. Nothing rushed, nothing overlooked. Plates arrive when they should, glasses are quietly refilled, and you’re left to enjoy the moment.

What makes Café Savoy special isn’t innovation—it’s consistency, atmosphere, and respect for tradition. It’s a reminder that some of the most memorable meals come not from surprise, but from things done exactly right.

If you’re looking for a true Viennese café experience—one that feels authentic, elegant, and deeply rooted in the city’s culture—Café Savoy delivers beautifully. A place to return to, again and again.

SobreTablas

C. Colombia, 7, 41013 Sevilla, Spain

+34 955 54 64 51

In a city overflowing with tapas bars and traditional Andalusian kitchens, SobreTablas stands out as a restaurant that honours tradition while letting creativity speak with confidence. From the moment you step in, you feel that this is a place where each dish isn’t just served — it’s told, like a story unfolding right at your table.

The atmosphere strikes a perfect balance between elegant and relaxed. Warm wood tones, soft lighting, and polished service make it clear that this is a place meant for savouring both food and conversation. The staff are genuinely welcoming, knowledgeable without ever being pretentious — a quality that sets the tone for the meal to come.

We began our culinary journey with a salad of Iberian pork. This wasn’t just a starter — it was a statement. The pork was rich and nuanced, its fruity, earthy character elevated by the freshness of crisp greens. Every bite was a perfect balance of texture and flavour, a delicious nod to the extraordinary quality of Spanish pork.

Next came a dish that felt both rustic and refined: artichoke with truffles and an Iberian pork sauce. The artichokes were tender and earthy, their slight vegetal sweetness enhanced by the luxurious perfume of truffle. The Iberian pork sauce was silky and deeply savoury — the kind of sauce you’d wish to stir into absolutely everything. This dish felt like a lesson in restraint and richness, a pairing that spoke to culinary confidence.

For the main course, I couldn’t resist the tuna belly with toasted quinoa and almond sauce. Here was a dish that truly embodied the spirit of Spain’s contemporary cuisine: familiar ingredients reimagined with precision and heart. The tuna belly was buttery and melt-in-the-mouth, its natural oils given balance by the nutty crunch of toasted quinoa. The traditional almond sauce — rooted in Spanish heritage with bread and almond deeply woven together — brought it all home with a silky, gently spiced finish.

Throughout the meal we enjoyed excellent wine selections recommended by the staff — wines that echoed the personality of the dishes: vibrant, expressive, and beautifully paired.

What makes SobreTablas exceptional isn’t just the quality of its ingredients — it’s the way each plate is composed, as if it’s a chapter in a beautifully written story. There’s joy in the plating, intelligence in the flavour combinations, and a welcome sense of place in every bite.

For anyone exploring Seville beyond the expected tapas crawl, SobreTablas is a destination worth lingering for. It’s a place where tradition and innovation meet, and where you leave already imagining your next visit.

Bon Appétit !