Why London's coolest new openings are hiding in plain sight

We’ve all been there. You type in the address and postcode of the restaurant. You’ve studied the menu religiously. You’re excited about what’s to come, already imagining the meal: delicately tossed salads, luscious plates of pasta, and slivers of tuna crudo swimming in olive oil, flaky salt and capers.

You set off on your merry little way, and when Google says you’ve arrived, you look around, confused. It says you’re here, but there’s no sign of the place. You walk up and down the street a few times. You couldn’t have missed it, could you? You double-check the address. It says you’re standing in the exact spot, but still, no restaurant.

You wander, backtrack, and triple-check the postcode. This should be the place. Still nothing. You frantically search for photos, glance at your phone, then look up, trying to match the reference. You’re flustered. You’re already late, after walking an extra 5,000 steps trying to find this place for the past 20 minutes. And then you spot it. It’s been hiding in plain sight all along. A nondescript or even non-existent shopfront, quietly tucked away, that you’ve passed three times already. 

There was a time when a bold neon sign, a giant logo or a colourful awning was a rite of passage for any restaurant trying to make its mark. Now, London’s latest wave of new openings and hottest drinking spots are shifting towards simplicity. Less is more, or in this case, less is nothing at all. More bars and restaurants are ditching obvious signage altogether, instead opting for mystery, minimalism and the power of word-of-mouth. 

Some are purposefully hidden, like Rochelle Canteen, marked only by a wall and a buzzer in Shoreditch. Step into the garden at Arnold Circus, and the noise of the city softens, and you're welcomed like an old friend arriving for supper. Or Clerkenwell’s Sessions Arts Club, where you enter through a secret red door, bundle into a tiny lift to the fourth floor, and are transported to one of London’s most beautiful dining rooms that was once a former judges' dining room. Others simply skip exterior branding altogether. It’s a move that creates a sense of exclusivity, sparks curiosity and offers a quiet thrill of discovery for those in the know.

Take Dumbo, for example, the Parisian burger brand that opened its first London location last month on Bethnal Green Road at the top of Brick Lane in East London. With a barely-there sign and bare-bones interiors, it’s the classic blink and you’ll miss it type of place, yet it’s already drawing queues for its frilly-edged smashburgers thanks to its reputation, social media hype and word of mouth buzz. 

“It’s more about intrigue,” Charles Ganem and Sam Nataf, co-founders of Dumbo, explain. “The minimal look creates a bit of friction in a good way. People stop, look and ask questions. It invites contact, curiosity and even conversations with others outside. That’s what we’re looking for: interaction.”

It all comes down to being intentional and considerate rather than parachuting into a neighbourhood without considering the community and local surroundings. That was the approach taken by wine bar and restaurant Oranj, which opened in 2022 in a former stable building on Bacon Street, a quiet back alley just off Brick Lane. With its discreet frontage marked only by a simple orange ‘O’ on a black background and limited visibility from the street, it’s not a place that relies on footfall.

“We focused on creating a destination through natural wine and chef residencies that those in the know would seek out intentionally,” says Jasper Delamothe, founder and director of Oranj. “We sometimes have guests arrive a little flustered as they’ve not been able to locate the door straight away. We give everyone a warm welcome, and they soon settle in for a great evening. In general, I think the lack of loud signage creates a certain intimacy with the people that make it to your spot.”

Understated minimalist interiors, concise set menus, combined with sleek fonts and distinctive logos, are becoming increasingly common across London’s food and drink scene. These are the kinds of places Dua Lipa might post about in her next photo dump, simply captioned “girl dinner” with a knife and fork emoji. Or they’re the soon-to-be-hyped spots where you’ll see Jesse Burgess from Topjaw filming his rapid-fire questions outside, soon followed by a stream of influencers and food people piling in.

You don’t have to be a celebrity or a food person to know where to eat and drink in London these days, but it certainly adds aura points to measure how cool you are and helps fuel the “if you know, you know” dining hype. With the ongoing cost-of-living crisis, inflation and rising rents, dining out is becoming less affordable. As a result, people are eating out less, but when they do, they want it to feel like a unique and special experience. Diners are increasingly drawn to thoughtful, personal and memorable experiences over fancy, impersonal ones that lack story and substance. People are spending more wisely and eating more intentionally. A recent New York Times piece highlights how restaurant design and branding have become just as important as the food itself. Writer Priya Krishna notes, “A decade ago, the country’s most buzzed-about restaurants were largely defined by the ambition of the food and the credentials of the chef. Now, they’re all about atmosphere and appearance.”

For many, dining out is still a treat, but increasingly, it reflects personal values and lifestyle rather than pure indulgence. This is the case with Goodbye Horses, a wine bar and restaurant housed inside a handsome Victorian building in De Beauvoir Town, a north London neighbourhood known for its leafy residential streets. The space is an object lesson in beauty through restraint. Inside, it offers a sanctuary-like calm, drawing inspiration from British folklore and Japanese folk art, with no industrial copper pipe, in-your-face branding or sign in sight. The atmosphere is distinctly pared back, featuring limewashed white walls, rustic wooden tables and chairs, and a striking pastel mural by artist Lucy Stein that takes centre stage at the bar.

“I would like to say it [not having a sign] was all part of a grand strategy, but I fear the reality is that we were just too disorganised to get planning permission for a sign!” laughs co-founder Alex Young, who opened Goodbye Horses last year, with his business partner George de Vos. “It’s meant to feel like stumbling into a dream mid-scene. There's an element of surprise, and that's something we also sought at our ice cream parlour, The Dreamery, just across the road.” 

These third spaces, where we eat and drink, are living, evolving places that we often take for granted. They're there when we need a break, when we're feeling low or hungry. They offer a sense of newness, yet still feel familiar. “We’re not trying to define a guest's evening too tightly. Food and wine are part of the experience, but they’re not the whole,” Young explains. “Generally, we’re seeking depth. It’s more about rhythm, attention, atmosphere – the invisible frame that holds a place together.”

So, what does this say about the way we eat and drink today? How does this signal our tastes? According to Delamothe, it’s about stripping things back to the essentials and letting the food and wine speak for themselves. “It’s not about exclusivity,” he explains. “It’s about creating something special – and allowing it to be discovered.”

The rise of restaurants with little or no signage has evolved alongside how we find places to eat and how we dine today. Discovery now comes from endless scrolling rather than chance encounters. It’s nearly impossible to go anywhere without a personal recommendation or prior vetting. So many restaurants thrive not on traditional advertising, but on social media buzz and word-of-mouth, signalling a shift toward visual and experience-driven marketing.

Despite the uncertainty in the industry and ever-changing restaurant trends, the team behind Dumbo remains optimistic about their stripped-back approach. “We just want the attention to go where it matters: the food. No distractions, no noise, just a great product made right. It’s helped us stand out because it feels different. Most fast-food places try to grab your attention; we prefer to let people come to us,” they explain. “That said, we wouldn’t call it minimalism for the sake of it, but it’s more about essentialism. Creating spaces that feel natural, timeless and functional.”