Watching Jeremy Chan and his staff working in their open kitchen at Ikoyi, one of the top restaurants in London, is like watching a choreographed dance. Graceful and diligent, each team member seems to glide through service, producing food unlike anything I’ve ever had. The dishes here are described as “spice-based cuisine”, which Chan builds around British micro-seasonality, so it isn’t ascribed to any nation or the often reductive term ‘fusion.’
“I don’t like talking in the kitchen,” Chan says with characteristic focus. “If you’re playing in an orchestra, you’re not talking, you’re playing your instrument, so the less talking, the better.” Chan is lovely, but he is almost ninja-like in his attention to detail: “That is not because I want the atmosphere to be severe, but because I want the focus to be on the food. It’s like we’re playing an instrument and I want us to have fun doing it, but it’s high-level and timed to perfection.”
The result is stunning cuisine from a chef who has two Michelin stars for dishes that are constantly evolving: skate tempura, aged turbot with egusi miso and his signature jollof rice with lobster custard and crab salad appear at our table as part of the requisite set menu. Ikoyi is not somewhere you pop in for a quick lunch. It is a commitment of both time and money. “When I started, I didn’t have the skills to articulate my dreams as well as I do now when it came to the aesthetics of dishes,” he tells me. “Aesthetics are essential with food, not in the way that most people think; I don’t like food that looks like fine dining food. I like food that looks like sculpture, something bright, inspirational, abstract and enticing. And delicious.”
Born in Hong Kong, Chan is incredibly studious about anything he sets his mind to. He speaks six languages (mostly self-taught), and he moved to Princeton University for philosophy and the theory of languages as a young man. After deciding against a career in finance, he set his mind to food (a passion from childhood), and he embarked on a stage with Claude Bosi at Hibiscus, then Noma in Copenhagen and then Dinner by Heston.
When he opened Ikoyi in 2017, he did so with Nigerian friend and business partner Iré Hassan-Odukale (Ikoyi is the name of the neighbourhood where Hassan-Odukale grew up in Lagos). And, unsurprisingly, Chan furiously studied in preparation. “I made a plan almost like writing an essay,” he says, “though the learning is obviously a continual progression. I wanted to create a menu almost like a thesis for the restaurant. I articulate my feelings and my emotions and my ideas through food, and I’ve developed skills that are very personal to me.” Fast-forward to 2025, and Ikoyi has a new home on the Strand, where it moved to just two years ago. Two stars, legions of fans and a complex, ever-evolving menu must, I say, put immense pressure on Chan to constantly create new dishes that wow. “Everything on the menu today is very hearty and very rich and very textured, but the pressure I feel tends to lean towards returning guests who come often.”
The time spent on each dish is immense: “I’d say it’s a life’s work,” he tells me, laughingly. And, of course, there is the well-documented pressure on the hospitality industry across the country that comes from the Big B (Brexit), the Big C (Covid) and spiralling costs. Through it all, Ikoyi remains busy and well-loved, diners flocking back for Chan’s ethereal creations. Though he gets very little time off work, our conversation moves naturally to where he loves to eat when he heads out into the city he now calls home. And, given his highly-skilled creations, the restaurants he adores are, surprisingly, the antithesis of Ikoyi – most are pubs, all are seriously laidback, all are places to kick back and relax over a roast, and most are out of central London proper. “Going to Soho on weekends is brutal. It’s not fun. It’s like being in a competitive sport.”
“The sad thing about my life now,” Chan muses, “is I don’t travel as much because I’m always working. I love Hong Kong – I grew up there – but I just don’t know it well enough anymore, and I love London. It’s my favourite city. We may not be economically the most powerful, but I do feel it’s the most exciting place, and it feels very cutting edge in terms of design. I don’t even recommend my own restaurant to my friends because when I go out to eat, I don’t want a tasting menu and I want something really relaxed.” With that, Chan presents his five favourite eateries across the capital.
The Guinea Grill, Mayfair
“I have become really attached to pub culture. I used to turn my nose up at it and couldn’t understand why everyone was so obsessed with going to the pub, but I think Britain has a reputation for being a bit grey and gloomy, and pubs are really cosy places. I particularly love The Guinea Grill because it has a pub in the front and then a steakhouse in the back. It’s one of my favourite recommendations for people coming to London who want to see a great restaurant that’s not trendy, just really good. I sit in the main dining room, where they polish the cutlery; it's cosy and you're cramped up against other people. Go when it's grey or dark outside and order the Aberdeen Angus ribeye.”
Min Jiang, Kensington
“This Chinese restaurant on the top floor of The Royal Garden Hotel on Kensington High Street overlooks Kensington Gardens. It’s a different slice of London life. I look around the dining room and see Americans, Israelis, Nigerians, Chinese, French and Italians. It’s very multicultural, and many expat families come in for their Sunday Chinese dinner. There’s something very comforting about it, too. And the fact that it’s on top of a hotel reminds me of growing up in Hong Kong. I sit at the bar – preferably on a Sunday night when it's pitch-black and you can see the city lights below, and order shrimp dumplings and beef noodles.”
Theo's Pizza, Camberwell
“This little Neopolitan sourdough pizza place, just off Camberwell Church Street, is a hit with locals like me. I love the no-nonsense decor. I usually order the marinara pizza: just tomato and garlic with no cheese, and a spicy pizza with Scotch bonnet, salami and nduja. The pizzas are quick to come out, reasonably priced and I can get them delivered to my house, which is a bit dangerous. But it's a great little neighbourhood spot.”
The Camberwell Arms
“Everything at this lovely pub is cooked to look rustic but it's very thoughtfully seasoned. This is comfort food. There's a community feel – it's a pub worth travelling to for Sunday lunch because it has character. I go for a late lunch and sit by the window, on a table with a little candle looking out onto the street. The Sunday roast here is one of the best, and they do a great beef and ale pie to share. And great roast potatoes.”
The Watermans Arms, Barnes
“A friend of mine who used to be head chef at The Camberwell Arms runs this place. It looks simple, but the menu is very thoughtful, and the location (right on the river in Barnes) is lovely and cosy. Get a table upstairs by the window, or there's a great private dining room too. Red mullet with bay leaf sauce and oil is the dish to order.”