
Bradley's, Swiss Cottage: so much more than a beloved pre-theatre spot
Exceptional seasonal food at an affordable price, three courses from £27
Thirty-four years is a long time to run a restaurant. It's even longer to keep people coming back. At Bradley's in Swiss Cottage, Simon Bradley has been doing exactly that since 1992, and after spending an evening here, it's easy to see why.
It has long been the reliable answer for anyone eating before a show at the Hampstead Theatre, and it has the loyal local following to show for it. But it is so much more than a pre-theatre spot. This is proper London restaurant cooking at a price that deserves a far wider, and far younger, audience than it tends to get.
There is a lovely sense of continuity to the place. The cooking is confident, the welcome is warm and the dining room has the relaxed ease of a restaurant that knows exactly how it wants its guests to feel.
But there is plenty of energy here too.
The menu moves with the seasons, the kitchen makes the most of what's coming in from the local farmers market, and the set menu offers a particularly good way to experience what Bradley's does best. On our visit, that meant peaches and labneh, basil sorbet, girolles, broad beans, beautifully cooked sea bream, and a raspberry crème brûlée and gooseberry tart that we were still talking about on the way home.
The room
Inside, Bradley's is relaxed in a way that feels increasingly difficult to find in London. Warm wood, soft lighting, muted green walls and a garden at the back give it the feel of somewhere you can settle into rather than simply pass through.


The service helps with that too.
Ronald, the general manager, has the sort of enthusiasm for food and wine that makes you want to ask one more question before ordering. We spoke about the wines, the vegetables coming into the kitchen from the local farmers market and the restaurant's long history, and it quickly became clear that this isn't somewhere anyone is simply clocking in.
There is a genuine affection for the place here.
What we ate
Every meal here starts with bread, baked fresh that day, and that includes the set menu. It is worth mentioning because we nearly filled up on it.
There was a thick, blistered square of rosemary focaccia, alongside small raisin and walnut rolls that were far too easy to keep reaching for.
We also ordered a couple of extras from the main menu rather than the set one. The daily croquette came first, good enough to leave us fairly sure the wider list is holding a few more of those, and it set a dangerous precedent for the rest of the evening.

Then a bream ceviche with coconut, chilli, cucumber and coriander, served in a scallop shell on crushed ice. Cold, bright and properly refreshing, it was exactly what you want to eat on a warm evening.

The starters
The set menu was full of summer.
Prosciutto came with balsamic peaches, labneh, watercress and pickled radish: salty, sweet, tangy and fresh without trying too hard to be clever.

But the dish we kept talking about was the cantaloupe, watermelon and tomato with basil sorbet.
It sounds simple on paper. In reality, it was one of those plates that makes you stop halfway through and look at the person opposite you as if to say, yes, this is working. Different melons and tomatoes, all at their peak, with the basil sorbet slowly melting through everything.

A very good reminder that when ingredients are this good, a kitchen doesn't need to do too much with them.
The mains
The chicken breast came with cabbage, girolles, sweetcorn and broad beans, comforting without feeling heavy, with the earthiness of the mushrooms keeping everything in balance.

The sea bream was probably the standout of the evening.
Perfectly crisp skin, a bright sauce vierge with capers, tomato and courgette, and pickled fennel bringing a little sharpness to every bite. It was the sort of dish that disappeared remarkably quickly.

We also ordered a couple of sides, including a properly indulgent potato dauphinois and a fennel parmigiana baked with tomato and cheese until the edges had caught and caramelised.

If you're only ordering one, make it the dauphinois, the dish Ronald was raving about!
Dessert
Dessert was a choice between raspberry crème brûlée with a sesame tuile and the dessert of the day, which on our visit was a gooseberry crumble tart with ice cream.
The brûlée is a restaurant favourite, and it is easy to see why: a proper glassy top, a satisfying crack of the spoon, and a sesame tuile that shatters into it. It delivered exactly what you want from a brûlée.
The gooseberry tart was every bit as good in its own way. Sharp, buttery and not overly sweet, it tasted very much like gooseberries rather than a generic fruit filling. Sometimes that's all you really want.

The set menu
Bradley's offers three courses for £27 at lunch, while dinner is £30 for two courses or £34 for three.
The menu changes with the seasons, which feels very much in keeping with the way the restaurant cooks. On our visit, everything had that unmistakable sense of being exactly right for that particular moment in the year: peaches, tomatoes, sweetcorn, broad beans, girolles and gooseberries all making appearances.
It's food that feels considered but never overworked.
And that's perhaps the best way to describe Bradley's as a whole.
After more than 30 years, this is a restaurant that knows exactly what it is. There are no gimmicks, no theatre for the sake of it and no need to shout about what it's doing.
Just very good food, genuinely warm service and a dining room that makes you want to stay for another glass of wine.
Who should go?
We would happily come back for dinner on its own terms, with no curtain to catch.
Go with friends and settle in for the evening. Take someone on a date. Book a Saturday lunch and follow it with a walk towards Hampstead Heath. Or just go because you've been meaning to find somewhere new that feels like it has been there waiting for you all along.

We left wondering why we'd never been before. We won't be making that mistake again.