Marylebone is one of those central London areas (also looking at you Mayfair and Fitzrovia) where your overriding association is big houses, big buggies, and a big old bill wherever you eat or drink. That last part may be true of a lot of places around here—you certainly have a wide choice of restaurants that use tweezers to assemble your food—but there are also lots of great, good-value ones too.

Unrated: This is a restaurant we want to re-visit before rating, or it’s a coffee shop, bar, or dessert shop. We only rate spots where you can eat a full meal.

We get teary-eyed whenever we think about this romantic Lebanese restaurant on Blandford Street. The rustic walls and candlelight make it charming enough that we’d probably fall in love with Severus Snape if he took us to dinner here. The cosy front section of Fairuz teeters into ‘accidentally dipping your pitta in the next table's moutabal’ territory, which is fine if you’re in a group. But if you’re hoping to seduce someone over creamy aubergine fatteh, head there early to snag a seat in the hidden-away back corner.

More spacious than the Soho original—with a couple of outdoor tables for sunny days—Hoppers in Marylebone serves some of the best Sri Lankan food in London. Things like bone marrow varuval and kothu roti are reliably excellent, and you should get involved in their drinks menu. The Ceylonese ice tea is flowery and the pandan Negroni is one vermouth remix we endorse. Set over two floors, there’s a big, bright, slightly corporate-feeling space upstairs, and a more romantic underground seating area with alcoves and larger tables.

The oldest of old-school sandwich shops, this century-old deli will do anything you like. You’ve got old friends like coronation chicken, a variety of cheeses on offer, pastrami, and all manner of sandwich mixes to peer into under the counter. We like to keep things classic with the egg mayo, anchovy, and chive combination on springy white bread. Inside it’s a mix between a caff, a deli, and a kind of Ye Olde Chutney Emporium. There are half a dozen or so tables plus a little counter, and it’s first come first served.

At this walk-in-only, NYC-style pizza spot, exposed brick and chequered tablecloths transport you to the streets of Williamsburg. There's a dimly lit lamp on each table, a projector plays The Sopranos, and diners fill the buzzy, industrial-looking room, dipping chewy margherita crusts into fiery scotch bonnet sauce, and getting messy with a sweet onion jam-heavy mushroom slice. If you’re only getting one pizza, it should be the marinara with pools of stringy, creamy stracciatella.

Royal China Club on Baker Street is a Cantonese institution where the hoisin-stained white tablecloths can bring back all kinds of memories. The lengthy dim sum menu is legendary for good reason. It ranges from the familiar (prawn cheung fun, say) to the fancy (crispy rolls with scallop and foie gras), so don’t be surprised that it can easily add up to west London club prices. That said, it’s worth it for a special meal centred around special cheung fun.

Cavita on Wigmore Street is one of those restaurants you want everyone to see you at. Ideally while engaged in a hilarious conversation with a fabulous friend and drinking just the right number of spiced watermelon margaritas. Hint: enough that you get a little Pinterest mom over all the lovely ceramics, not so many that you try to chat up the beef shin quesabirria. Don’t write this place off as just a gorgeous foliage haven though—the Mexican food is excellent, the service is friendly, and if it's on, splitting the whole grilled octopus is a must if you’re rolling with a group.

No restaurant in Marylebone sums up the area better than Trishna. It’s an absolutely delicious, eye-wateringly expensive Indian restaurant that appears to be casual, but isn’t really. It’s Gymkhana’s sibling, but more seafood-y. The whole Dorset crab is excellent, as are the tandoori lamb chops, but just be wary that things add up here. Come for a special occasion or even better, when it’s not on you.

This Thai-influenced restaurant feels ready to be listed on The Modern House, and the mahogany room is full of Tucci lookalikes drinking sunflower seed Old Fashioneds. Beyond the polished room, AngloThai has a set tasting menu that changes seasonally and is full of unusual combinations: moreish smoky grilled flatbread comes shining with yeast butter and brilliant charred red kale. This is Marylebone, so invention is paired with decadence, like the knock-out coconut ash cracker served with crab and caviar. It’s a dish that’s worth a visit alone.

This Mediterranean restaurant prides itself on lavish decadence that could seem vulgar if the extortionate food wasn’t so goddamn delicious. The room has a warm amber hue and it’s hard not to lean in from the very first bite of moreish pan con tomate. Flavours at Lita don’t introduce themselves—they charge like an elephant with a thirst for Old Fashioneds and salt. The move is to share some smaller plates at one of the many lively counters, and go for a Galician beef rib or a whole turbot in a group. Just try not to think about the bill.

Carlotta is unapologetically over the top. Big booths, big ego, big diva energy. This Italian spot is busy with people taking pictures of themselves in all the mirrored surfaces and the more-is-more space. Some of the dishes are hit and miss, so our go-to is the creamy fettuccine alfredo al tartufo for two. But the dramatic interiors and bathroom taps straddled by a virgin Mary statue are a not-so-subtle hint that you’re not really here for the food—it’s a Big Mamma spot, after all. Just make sure you don’t leave without trying the wedding cake.

Given our love of cheap wine and trips to the Waitrose alcohol aisle, our favourite acronym is BYOB. Bringing your own booze is exactly what you can do at this Persian restaurant hidden on Crawford Place, which makes this place perfect for an affordable Marylebone dinner where you can still get joyously tipsy. But even without all that, it also serves truly enormous flatbreads, juicy kebabs, and tender lamb that yes, you absolutely should dip in the shallot yoghurt.

Filipino bakery Panadera is an excellent reason to tackle Bond Street tube station. There isn’t much room inside the bright, white space to perch, but the sturdy takeaway packaging means getting it to go is a legitimate option. And it’s worth it for some of the best sandwiches in London. The sweet pandesal bread is toasted but soft, and the fillings are creative and perfectly executed—our go-to is the corned beef hash.

The moussaka at Opso is a thing of béchamel wonder. It’s a deconstructed take on traditional moussaka, involving a foundation of grilled aubergine, layers of braised beef ragu and béchamel, and topped with—insert sentimental tear here—crunchy potato crisp slivers. It is undoubtedly the standout dish at this upmarket Greek restaurant, but the tzatziki, cherry-topped desserts, and tableside truffle lamb shank show are all instant crowd-pleasers too.

Marylebone’s premier Viennese brasserie feels like it’s from another time. Gold-framed portraits of men with moustaches and women in cocktail dresses hang from semi-tiled walls, the toilet doors have a little golden curtain rail, and any number of things feel like they could happen in this room—from a murder to marriage. What most people are here for is gold-hued and crispy: Fischer’s schnitzel is a flat, crisp piece of meat, big enough to throw around the park on a sunny day, and it’s best paired with chips.