We stepped off the Piccadilly Line at Green Park, right on the edge of Mayfair and just a stone’s throw from Regent Street and Oxford Circus, two of the city’s main shopping arteries, constantly bustling with both locals and tourists. It’s ten a.m. and the rush hour has already passed: offices are full, and the cafes are packed with smart workers. In case it hasn’t been clear yet, we are in the city of the iconic double-decker red buses and the world’s most famous royal family: London, also renowned for being a culinary melting pot like no other. But we won’t get lost the city’s streets chasing faraway cuisines; instead, we’ll stay in one place where British cuisine is explored, with a glance towards the rest of the world.
Once we emerged from the Tube, with Green Park on our left, we spotted on the right an almost cryptic building, mainly made of semi-obscured glass divided by a thin line separating the two floors. The partially hidden sign reads “Hide” and the name is not coincidental. Opened in 2018, it earned a Michelin star just a year later. At the helm is chef Josh Angus, whose experience spans kitchens across the globe, supported by a multicultural team and a service running daily from breakfast to after-dinner. The restaurant is owned by the same people behind Hedonism Wines, a wine and spirits boutique located a few meters away, “in the heart of Mayfair,” and the synergy is immediately apparent: warm colors, a carefully curated atmosphere, and quality offerings set these two establishments apart from the rest.
We enter, curious, through a large wooden door and, as we pass the reception and leave our jackets, we immediately feel small, shrunk. The venue is structured on three floors connected by a majestic handcrafted wooden staircase by the London architecture and design studio Atmos, famous for using forms inspired by nature. It quickly becomes clear: we are inside a tree.
On the lower floor, in the basement, there is a speakeasy-style bar – the Bar Below – along with the wine cellar (tapping supplies from Hedonism as needed) and three private rooms, themed respectively on books, Kintsugi, and shadows, that can be reserved for a maximum of eight people and customized in atmosphere, menu, and service. Here, the air is damp, the temperature cooler than above, and the atmosphere somber: we are in the roots of the tree.
The ground floor is slightly airy: dark woods, sturdy lines, a constant tension between minimalism and visual impact. We are inside the trunk, in the Ground, and the staircase dominates the scene, with its majestic spiral guiding upwards; here there is a direct view of the pavement, starting to see the light. On this floor and the one above, the three main meals are served: breakfast, lunch, and dinner; reservations can be made online, with the option to indicate in advance whether you prefer à la carte dishes or the tasting menu.
Then we ascend to the upper floor, the Above, and it’s as if we find ourselves among the branches: the space feels more open, colors are lighter, and there’s a view over Green Park, as if we were the creatures inhabiting the tips of its trees. It’s no coincidence that many walls are decorated with leaves, flowers, and objects from the park this room overlooks, the result of a pre-opening team-building activity: the entire staff, as the “guide” explains, went out in advance to gather wild plants and unusual objects for inspiration, which were then incorporated into the walls.
Even before tasting any food, we’re already satiated from discovering all the details of this place, which at first glance seems minimalist but actually hides many stories waiting to be told.
At this point, we are shown to our seats, our table is round and positioned among the branches, in the corner between the two windows of the first floor. Not many restaurants provide this kind of service, but here breakfast has been served since the first day of opening. The flagship products are those created in the in-house bakery, which produces bread and viennoiseries, displaying them on the pass of the ground floor as if they were in a showcase: at first glance, you can notice the almost maniacal care the staff puts into their creation.
Beyond this, we can find a wide range of sweet and savory options: the staff – composed, precise, but never rigid – informs me that the only part of the menu not available in a gluten-free version is the viennoiserie. We opted for the Avocado toast with a herb dressing and smoked salmon: the homemade gluten-free bread is so similar to the regular one that I almost suspect it contains gluten, not due to lack of trust in the staff, but because of the high quality. My travel companions chose an Egg Florentine, a Coconut milk porridge with dates and tamarind compote, and the classic English Breakfast with smoked bacon, black pudding, pork sausage, roasted tomatoes, eggs, and toast. For drinks, our instincts and curiosity lead us to a green juice with cucumber, aloe vera, kiwi, and spinach, two teas (English breakfast and Earl Grey, almost due to cultural duty), and a soy cappuccino.
The service is devoid of theatrics: a brief yet thorough narration of the dishes leaving space for taste and experience. There is a clear respect for the ingredients, alongside a clear intention to situate them within a story contextualised by the very place we are in.
And the prices? For breakfast, more ethical than elitist, as if the intention was to make a taste of the place accessible to everyone.
We are in the heart of London, in a Michelin-starred restaurant, yet the bill leaves room for surprise: my cappuccino costs less than one bought à porter from the big chains.
Perhaps this is a perfectly worthy goal: making a high-quality experience accessible, creating and serving quality products, showing respect for them, but also for the guest. There is something captivating, yet in some ways disorienting, about sitting down in a Michelin-starred restaurant for the simplest meal of the day: it is performing a daily ritual in an extraordinary setting.
The line between routine and ritual becomes subtle without causing any sense of imposition: the room is elegant yet welcoming, the service is attentive yet unobtrusive; everyday life is simply elevated. Here one immediately feels at ease, almost disregarding the thought that at the same table where you enjoy your breakfast, just a few hours later, a well-dressed couple will be seated, spending hundreds of pounds on a tasting menu.
The charm of such a moment lies in the coexistence of two very different experiences without either losing authenticity. Hide is not just a Michelin-starred restaurant,it is a place of freedom, to be discovered little by little. A place that is a bit like the Crown Jewels: precious and silent, carefully and attentively guarded, hidden in plain sight.
